Robbed of the Weekend.

My wife and I were asleep last night by 9:30. The weekend…wasn’t. The downward spiral started Friday afternoon when my wife informed me that her parents (specifically mother) had invited themselves over on Saturday.

I was working a 24 with the Ambulance, so she knew we weren’t going anywhere and decided to monopolize the day.

The visit was atrocious, and filled with yard-sale purchased toys for the kids (which are neither asked for nor appreciated) and heading off what were, on the surface- attempts at being helpful and good-natured, but were really attempts to be controlling in one way or another.

We spent the day hiding the large box of cookies she brought for the boys, and ducking questions about why I left my job at the police department.

We finally had a weekend where I couldn’t go anywhere, so we might be able to get a little quiet time in, but had to host instead. Everything she does as a ‘favor’ has a motive behind it and at one point she even said “Oh, you don’t have to thank me.” – which means “You should thank me for all I’m doing.” 

So a quiet Saturday was shattered.

Sunday after I came off shift, we had to run to pick up a birthday gift for a party The Narrator was going to, while I took the car to a shop to find out why the hell it isn’t starting without being jumped. I suspected the battery, but the guy tested it and it was fine. The result? Nothing. I’m left with a car that doesn’t want to start by itself (starter and alternator are fine too) and no reason why. When we got home, My wife took The Narrator to his party while I dealt with the little one, who had skipped his nap the day before thanks to the forced surprise visit, and had woken up early that morning. As a result, he was miserable, though refused to nap for me. He ended up taking zero naps all weekend, which made for true hell.

After the party, The Narrator said he didn’t feel well. He sat at the dinner table and told me his head hurt and he felt barfy. This is a standard tactic he uses to try to get out of eating dinner, so I called B.S. and told him to eat.

…..a moment later he was throwing up everything he’d eaten at the party and was sick as a dog. And I felt like the world’s worst parent.

We packed everyone to bed early, and ourselves crashed extremely hard.

The alarm went off at 6:30 this morning and I was out the door for work twenty minutes later. I had to skip coffee at home and get a cup at a gas station, which was terrible.

If ever there was a Monday….this is it, and it had better not be indicative of how the rest of the week is going to go.

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