Pure unbridled fury

As I mentioned the other day, we had yet another stellar interaction with my lovely in-laws.

It's hard for me to write about them because, well, it's hard for me to put into words exactly how I feel about them - specifically my father-in-law. Well, anything that doesn't involve a bunch of venom and four-letter words. Not to mention that my husband, despite all the shit that they've done to him over the years, still loves them. He thinks the sun rises and sets on them. And that bugs the hell out of me.

My father-in-law (and from this point I'll be using FIL and MIL just for ease) is an alcoholic. A functioning alcoholic, mind you, but still. He also is one of the most verbally abusive people I have ever personally encountered in my entire life. How Joey ended up escaping from that house with any self-worth is one of the great mysteries of my life. The man literally has never said he is proud of Joey, or thanked him for all the money or things that Joey has given him, or complimented him on anything he's done (no matter how small). All he does is criticize, berate, and tear him down. It's painful to watch. And even more ironically, Joey is his favorite son. You should see how he treats my brother-in-law. No wonder the guy is so fucked up.

Joey's way of coping with it is pretty much ignoring him as a general rule. After our last visit when FIL told him that he was fat, I asked him how he could stand having his dad talk to him like that. "Babe, I haven't paid attention to shit like that since I was 13 years old." That is just so foreign to me that I don't get it. How do you get to that point with your parents?

On Friday, we had left town around 4:30 which conveniently (or not) put us about 20 minutes from his parents' house around dinnertime. He asked if I minded that they joined us for dinner, and in my usual attempt to be nice and let them see their only grandson, I acquiesced. I would end up regretting this. Apparently, FIL had been drinking for a few hours when they arrived at the restaurant. He and MIL waddled back to the table where we were sitting and Monkey Man was ecstatic to see them. See, he loves my FIL. He thinks that PaPa is like the best thing ever.

We weren't even there together five minutes when my FIL started with the picking. I guess he thinks it's funny or affectionate, but when you tell a five-year-old things like, "You ain't worth two cents, boy," over and over it goes past being cutesy and turns into saying things that are mean and that a child doesn't understand.

"I'm gonna disown you, boy."

"You ain't worth two cents, boy."

"I'm gonna kidnap you and take you to my house and make you work in the field."

And it went on and on and on for an hour. Now, I have some pretty big balls - I usually will stand up right away for things that bother me. However, with my in-laws it's a whole other story.

He scares me. Yeah, I could totally outrun the fat fucker and don't fear him doing anything physically to me. And honestly, I have had more evil thoughts about the man's demise than should be allowed and have probably guaranteed me a lovely condo in Hell. What I'm afraid of is what it would do to his relationship with Joey. He is the type that would totally disown Joey and forbid MIL from ever talking to him again. And no matter how much I hate that bastard, he is Joey's father. And I can't get in the middle of that.

In addition to that, I was raised not to disrespect my elders. Even when he has been at his worst, I have bitten my tongue into a bloody mess and eventually Joey ends up being the brunt of my wrath afterwards. It's not fair to him, but I can't bring myself to stand up to my FIL and tell him what a dick he is.

We made it through dinner and I didn't say two words the entire dinner. And when dinner was over, I took Monkey Man out to the Pimp Mobile and let Joey say his goodbyes. At that point, the only appropriate thing I could think of saying was Fuck You.

I waited until the drive to Charlotte to talk to Joey about it. Of course, in typical FIL fashion, he had waited until Joey was at the buffet before he said most of the comments - I swear he does that because he is either trying to bait me into saying something or he knows Joey will say something to him. Joey was appalled and promised to talk to his dad about the comments. And we will talk to Monkey Man and explain that what PaPa did was wrong and hurtful and you don't talk to people that way.

My point to him - I don't care if it's "teasing." You don't tell a child who doesn't know the difference that he's not worth two cents. Hell, you don't tell an adult that. It's disrespectful. Not to mention that I don't want Monkey Man, who idolizes his grandpa, to think that it's okay to talk to people that way. Because it's not.

And again, I feel like a bitch. For the past five years (since MM was born), my relationship with the in-laws has gotten increasingly tenuous. My tolerance of FIL's drinking and attitude has worn down to the nub. I don't want our son to be around someone like that. To Joey's credit, he has cut way back on the visits to his parents - he talks to them a few times a week, but it used to be constant visits and stuff all the freaking time. And I think dealing with my dislike of them is more than he wants to handle on a constant basis. It's easier for him to not deal with his parents at all than to clean up the mess that they cause after every visit. Believe me, I can't remember the last time we had a visit with them that didn't have something bad happen. And I get tired of it. And he gets tired of it.

I tend to think that our little "bump in the road" almost two years ago was at least halfway due to his parents. I was resentful that Joey refused to stick up for me when we had disagreements with them. He was resentful that I wouldn't accept his parents for who they are. After a lot of talks between us, I think we both realize that we're kind of in a no-win situation for the long haul. So I've kind of let myself heal a little bit and stopped dwelling so much on the past, and he's stepped up to the plate a little more in terms of letting them know what's acceptable and what's not. It's a delicate balancing act that can come crashing down at any time. And I think if we didn't love and respect each other so much, it would've crashed into bits that even Gorilla Glue couldn't fix.

After ten years of marriage and five years of parenthood, I've gotten tired. Tired of having my stomach in knots every time they call. Tired of feeling sick every time I know we're supposed to see them. Tired of being angry and sad and resentful.


There are times when I wish I could just put him in a hermetically sealed soundproof chamber until he finally gives up the ghost just so I wouldn't have to listen to the venom spewing from his mouth.


And best of all, I wouldn't have to explain to my five-year-old that he's worth more than two cents. Way more.