AMOAD - V: In-law invasion

Ah, in-laws.

To be perfectly honest, Mark and I love our in-laws. Really we do.

We're each blessed with in-laws who are truly good and decent human beings. They're fabulous grandparents, active, vibrant retirees and just all round good people.

And most important, they respect boundaries -- both philosophical and geographic. None micromanages our parenting style (at least to our faces), drops in for unannounced visits, or pesters or harasses us in any way.

We've lucked out in the in-law department and we both know it.

That said, Mark and I both love the IDEA of hating our in-laws.

As we prepare for family visits, we jokingly announce we're 'going out for smokes' -- code for 'I'm ditching your ass.' We tease about locking ourselves in the liquor cabinet until they leave. And after their visits, as they pull out of the driveway to being their long drives home; we'll each do a happy dance, celebrating the departure.

What can I say? We love hating on our in-laws. It's like a hobby with us.

So when Mark told me he invited his parents over for Mother's Day, I dramatically rolled my eyes, threw a hand up to my brow, and collapsed backwards on my bed with fictitious angst.

"You've invited your mother, to my Mother's Day?" I asked.

"Yep."

"My Mother's Day. Your mother," I repeated.

"Uh huh," he said. "You got a problem with that?" he asked, grinning.

"Oh, no. No problem at all." I launched into full-on martyr mode. "It's just, you know, my one day to bask in the glow of awesome momness. It's just I hadn't really planned to share it with my, my, IN-LAWS," I seethed, sarcastically.

- - -

Fast forward nine hours. I've just returned home to a messy house and an empty pantry. Mark was still nowhere in sight and I was pretty certain my in-laws were en route.

I began to feel a twinge of real mom martyrness rise up into my throat. This isn't at all how I'd expected to spend Mother's Day. Not by a long shot.

I locked The Bigs out of the house and proceeded to give it a whirlwind-once-over. My in-laws have never once criticized my housekeeping -- not that I expected they would -- but I didn't want to give them a reason to start.

Just then, Mark pulled in, groceries in hand.

"Did you get a nap in?" he asked, innocently.

"Are you freaking kidding?" I asked. I proceeded to tell him about the crabby kids, the escaped pooches and the lightning-fast cleaning job. "And we've got less than a half hour before my in-laws arrive," I said, drawing out the word 'in-laws' for effect.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Holy crap. They're early. Dinner was nowhere near ready.

"I'm going out for smokes," I lied. "I'll be right back."


To be continued...