My MIL - the drama queen

"Making a mountain out of a molehill," that's one thing my MIL does really really well. She's like a child in so many ways, but especially in this way. Like when our son first started walking, she was convinced he needed leg braces because he walked funny... HELLO?? All babies walk funny, like drunken little Frankensteins.

Anyway, my husband decided to have out-patient hip surgery to alleviate chronic back pain. He decided not to tell his mom till after the surgery, because she can be so dramatic and she wouldn't jinx it. Unfortunately, I screwed up on the timing and leaked it onto our family blog the day after surgery because my husband said he was going to tell his parents that day. I posted, she read it, and the following email exchange ensued:

MIL - Hope your back surgery went well. We hope you are feeling better. How sad for all of us that we had to hear about on a blog. We wish we could be closer to you.

Husband - No need for guilt and drama I did not tell anyone did not want to jinx it. Have a fantastic trip! Also you never called me back? (My husband left her a message to tell her). You should call someone after they have surgery.

MIL: what a dick.

Husband: LOL

MIL: not really "lol". it is sad to me that honest feelings are viewed as "drama and guilt". i am soooo tired of the stress of trying to talk to you and be close to you.

Husband: Haha more drama and guilt, just makes me want to pick up the phone.

Classic! My husband is the greatest!

Remembering the Crocodile Hunter

I'm still feeling the repercussions of my MIL's visit over Labor Day weekend, which was the weekend the Crocodile Hunter was killed.

Our son spent the night in the hotel with them. The next night we had an interesting conversation.

Vito: Mommy, there was this guy, the Alligator Man. He was swimming in the ocean and a sting ray poked him in the chest. The stinger went all the way through his heart. They called the paramedics but it was too late. He was already dead.

Me: Who told you this?

Vito: Grandma Gertie.

That night and the new two nights, and every once in a while since then, Vito has really expressed lots of sadness over the thought of death. He's now filled with questions, like "Are you gonna die? Am I gonna die? Who's going to take care of me when you and Daddy die?"

I mean, does a 3-year-old really need to know the graphic details surrounding the death of a man he never knew about in the first place?

Once again, thanks Gertie!