When MIL ain't happy ...

ain't nooooooobody happy!!

I used to have a t-shirt that said just that ... with one very pissed off bunny on it. Oh where is it when I need it?

So what exactly started the tirade I'm about to relate to you?

I went to get something out of *my crisper drawer* in the fridge (yes, I keep stuff in there, stuff she knows NOT to touch - mayo, lunch meats, ,whatever) and the damned thing was STUCK shut. On further investigation, someone had spilled a sticky liquid (probably one of many drink boxes) all over the fridge and LEFT IT for someone else to clean up.

After an hour of cleaning, tossing out, and organizing the fridge has been reclaimed. Gone are her two dozen eggs with the sell-by date on the cartons of May 2011 and December 2010! Gone are six bread heels that got shoved to the back - behind her large inventory of drink boxes - and left to mold. Gone are three opened and GREEN packages of bologna left in their crisper drawer. Nasty shit, nasty. I've never seen so much waste in my life as what DIL creates. Sad ... so sad.

I'm sure she'll be furious once she discovers that I cleaned out her crap, too. Oh freaking well. My fridge, she's lucky she gets as much space as she does for six cases of drink boxes (two cases were actually empty and sitting in the fridge still) ... dozens of fruit cups and snack packs of puddings that I have collected and put in her drawer ... it was in my way, dammit. Now it's not!

Then I decided that since I was there, I'd tackle organizing the freezer, too. I don't have a shelf in the freezer, so stuff gets piled up and fast. I adapted a shelf from an old wire rack I had saved for some reason from my old freezer. Organized "hers" and "mine" - of course being the bitch I am, I gave her the smallest area (the ice bucket and trays take up a third of the space) and made a sign saying "Mom's food" and "DILs food" with another sign saying "any food placed in MY section I WILL EAT". I'm tired of her thinking she is going to move our (Single Sons and mine) stuff if it's in her way. It's my house ... my stuff ... your shit is in my way, then watch out. I'm FED UP!

And as long as I'm bitching ... what is it that she moved a large pot from the drying rack (in her way obviously) and put it on the counter - the cupboard for the pots is directly under where the pot sat on the counter. She's been half-assed putting dishes away ... cups in the dish cupboard, dishes on the counter, pans on the stove, strainer in the oven (plastic strainer - luckily I checked the oven BEFORE I turned it on or the house would have stunk to high heaven with the melting plastic) ... I could go on and on.

There's more left to do in the kitchen - like reclaiming my cupboards and counter tops (she can keep the largest pantry ONLY because it stores Grandsons food) ... and just too freaking bad if she's unhappy!

*****

Deciding I had earned a shower as my reward, I set my way to the bathroom. It's a nice chilly day outside, and a hot shower seems in order after my time in the kitchen.

What's this? HER laundry piled up, covering the heat vent? Hello? I grab it all, throw it on her bed ... oh, oops, there's clean clothes there, too! mybad ... I hope she figures out the clean from dirty ... if not, not my problem if she goes around smelling like stinky socks!!

Finally, I'm in the shower. I actually sit down in the tub and just let the shower water take my stress away. Well, for a few minutes anyway. DIL came home as I'm showering, so I didn't hear her come in. I lost most of the water pressure in the shower and could hear the washing machine below the bathroom fill with water. I'm pissed. Not even turning the shower water off, still wet I put on my robe, storm downstairs to the laundry room where I practically scream at her "Did you NOT hear the shower running?" "Yeah" ... "And you can't wait until the shower is off to start your damned laundry? How inconsiderate!!"  as I turn the washing machine off. "What are you doing? You're out of the shower I can do my laundry now" ... "NO YOU CAN'T ... I am not done with my shower" ... and I went back to my shower.

She's since stormed off. Don't know where she is. Don't care. She's probably called Married Son by now, complaining about what a bitch I'm being. He's already told me next time she does call him, he's going to tell her "you probably deserve it". He's fed up, too. And he can't stand his peace on the road being interupted by the selfish, inconsiderate, childish "it's not my job" brat he married.

And when she gets back I'm going to finish this argument with a review of the rules of the house. Starting with not abandoning her laundry for Single Son to finish, leaving utensils in the sink (she'll wash only the dishes, leaves utensils, cups and pots for me), not tossing MY stuff around if it's in her way and many many more bitches I have that have yet to be resolved after weeks and weeks of being the Mother In Law from Hell.

If it kills HER I will have total control of this house by the end of the month.

And I have begun to end every argument with "My house, not yours. My rules, not yours. Don't like it? You know where the door is. Feel free to use it".