So...my DH gets a phone call from the MIL. She was just calling to complain that she had to start cooking again today. Isn't that nice....thanks for calling during my dinner time...bye..bye.
What is wrong with that..... the gentle reader is asking.....? Well....here it goes.
I come into town to visit my very ill and dying Grandmother. Not to be outdone the other Grandmother has called the family..."to settle up her accounts"...know...who said I don't come from classy dames? Anyway, walk into the In Laws place and what do I find waiting for us? The MIL in a cast....sigh.....of course this is after 2 weeks of pain and the martyr didn't want to spend the money on an x-ray. Yes, she does have 3 different health insurance carriers from the years the FIL worked for the Government. Anyway...it was to be a surprise! Hate to bust that little bubble, but the swollen blue foot and toes she has been talking about for 2 weeks....it really wasn't a surprise other than taking her cheap arse down to get an x-ray.
So guess who had the pleasure of cooking all weekend! I know...really hard to guess..but me! I will say this...I did not have to worry about dried chicken. These poor defenseless egg layers, that are past their prime, have graciously donated their bodies for the overcooked and dried out pieces of meat that could be used for wallpaper paste.
I made a lot of food, so they would have leftovers and would not starve or blow away in the dry wind of August in their little piece of heaven.
So we get the update that the food is gone.....and the chickens are running scared. I would be too...it is like me getting murdered by cannibals just to be overcooked! Then to have the man of the house slathering me in whatever sauce that may be handy to be able to eat without having the 911 operator to assist in getting a piece of my breast down his gullet. Isn't that a nice visual.
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