
Apparently, Dick decided to invite his parents over for dinner last night and I didn't find this out until yesterday afternoon. That left me only a couple of hours to figure out what we'd eat, go to the store, tidy the house, and prepare a meal fit for a king. Me, being the great Suzie that I am, somehow managed to pull it off.
Something else that boils my blood -- idle chit chat. I really don't care that my father-in-law knows everything and is willing to share his vast knowledge of all things worldly. I would rather get into the real meat and potatoes. I want to know why their son is the way he is. Did they drop him on his head as a child and if so, can I do it again to balance him back out? But no such luck there -- I just had to sit and endure Dick's father's tale of two shitties.
And last (but not least), it really burns my butt cheeks when it is obvious how much effort I put into creating a meal fit for even Jesus himself, yet when everyone is done, no one offers a hand in the clean up. You don't mind walking in my home, eating my food, boring me with your drivel, and you can't even put your dishes in the sink? Puh-lease!
This only happens once every other month or so (thank the lord of all things sanity). But tonight, we are definitely having TV dinners.