I will try my best to make this sordid tale short. Those who have read my past blogs know that I do not have the best relationship with my husband's family. Well, yesterday, everything came to a head. I'd have to go back over 30 years to explain the rift. Of course, that would take too much time, so I'll just go back to a typical incident that occurred last month.
Last month, 14 family members got together for a Sunday breakfast brunch at a fancy smancy hotel to celebrate a nieces (husband's sister's daughter) graduation from high school and her honor as the valedictorian. Fast forward through the brunch to time to pay up. Everyone had agreed to pay for their own brunch (26.95) and also split among the rest of us, the cost of the graduate's meal. Here's where the drama trumpet sounded. One of the cousins (husband's mom's sister's daughter), whom I'll call Miss B (for a number of reasons, but her name really does start with B) -- well she decides 26.95 + tax + 20% tip + her split of graduate's meal is unreasonable. BTW, she also has her teenage daughter there, so multiply the amount x 2. Anyway, they go round and round and there's a big argument, and my husband finally just picks up the bill, along with the money that had been collected and just pays the bill. It was $46 short. It's a long history with this cousin including her not paying her dues in family reunions and other family events, but always showing up and eating and partaking. By the grace of God, our family is in a good position financially, but it's the principle of the thing. I really didn't say much about it at the time because that's his family and it's what he wanted to do to keep the peace. And just a side note, this cousin drives a late-model luxury car and lives in a waterfront condo. I would have respected her more if she had said up front that she's a little short instead of eating the brunch, then poo-pawing the cost.
So yesterday the family got together for an outing at Six Flags Amusement Park. We had met earlier for lunch, some of the same ones that had been at last month's brunch, including Miss B. So as we were sitting in the restaurant and Miss B approached, I made a comment. Probably shouldn't have, but I do not appreciate the fact that my husband alone had to take up the slack for this moocher. So I made the comment as she approached: Moocher Alert. Now of course, I knew this would get back to her and it did. So later, at the amusement park, I was sitting down with a few other family members, and Miss B comes up and said I heard what you said about me. I just looked at her with my best "Yeah, so what" look, but I didn't say a word. And she says, “Why would you say that.” OMG, I'm thinking, she really wants a confrontation. Maybe it was the heat, but I said, “Well, it was just something I thought of when I saw you.”
By now, people at the table are probably sensing drama because they seem unduly interested, leaning forward, waiting for her response. And she said, “You mean like when I see you and think, 'Fat A**. So there it was, the silliness of 30 years finally hitting the fan. But guess what, I didn't skip a beat and even chuckled a little. I said, “Yeah, like that – only my condition is temporary. You, on the other hand will be a petty, no-class, sponge your entire life. It's why nobody in your own family likes to invite you to any pay-your-way function. It's your lot in life – you can't help it.” She mutters something unintelligible, except that I heard the Fat A** again. My husband finally comes up and tells her she was way out of line and reminds her that growing up, he used to have to defend her against those same type of taunts because she was an overweight teenager. And lo and behold, that sent her off boo-hooing that everyone is against her, etc, etc.
Sorry, I did want this to be a short vent – in fact, I'm glad I waited a day to write it, because it would have been more heated and rambling had I wrote it right after it happened. Turns out, we had a great time at Six Flags, I even got on three rides, Fat A** and all. Moral of the story: Don't sweat the small stuff – and baby, it's mostly all Small Stuff.
Edited to add this P.S. I take responsibility for starting this bickering yesterday. I could have kept quiet and not made the comment at the restaurant, but this is not the first time that my family has been the one to pick up the slack for her. And she's not once thanked anyone, and in fact, acts like it's our duty. THE END!!!!
Whew – thanks for letting me get vent. Now, this blog will self-destruct in 9, 8, 7 …....