In-laws coming tomorrow.
Long, exaggerated inhale. Aaaaaand exhale.
I try so hard to like them, I do. I try so hard to simply tolerate them, but even that proves impossible most days. I just don't get them or any of their hairbrained ideas of what is normal/acceptable/humane/appropriate/fillintheblank. And they treat me like a sacka crap, which I tend not to enjoy, especially after spending countless hours shopping for, then wrapping the *perfect* gifts for each of them after unsuccessfully swearing up and down that I will NOT be shopping for Matt's family this year (and seriously, if we have to buy Christmas presents for one more of my SIL's boyfriends, I'm regifting Christmas cookies and calling it a night).
And so tomorrow I will put on a happy face when they arrive at our door commenting on the weather (while Midas growls and snarls ferociously at them and I smile a victorious smile inside), grit my teeth when my MIL brings up "Matt's" money, and bite my tongue when she asks me if I made the pie crust myself (hell no?). And when Sunday afternoon pleasantly arrives, I'll thank the sweet Baby Jesus that it's all over. Until next time.