No sooner had we "settled" in our new apartment (after living in a hotel for a week and my parent's house for a few days) then we went away for the weekend. We went to my parent's house to celebrate my dad's birthday together and demonstrate a few of the reasons we moved cross country: get some date nights and have LM grow up interacting more with at least one set of grandparents. As an added bonus, I got to see why living cross country for so long was not that bad to begin with.
I love my parents, I really do. They are very supportive, loving, and helpful but they are also crazy. Ok, not so much my mom, but my dad. Known as Dr. Gloom and Doom, the Wet Smothering Blanket of Help, and the man who suffers from OCD who also suggested a porta potty for my kitchen, he is also prone to treating me like a 14 year old, and not a terribly bright one.
He also suggested B put together some furniture for LM while partially nude.
We had planned to be there for 24 hours but a huge statewide sleet/rainstorm forced us to stay longer. Not a problem, they are fully prepared for us and our offspring, but we had only brought one day's worth of clothes, and that did not include new pants as we figured we could wear the same pair 2 days in a row. What the heck, they have a washer and a dryer!
I had brought a pair of shorts to sleep in and was wearing those when our pants were in the wash but poor B had only his BVDs and was sitting in the living room with nothing but undies, a t shirt, and a smile. It was then that my dad insisted that B put together the little chair and table set they had bought for LM. My dad, much like myself actually (hmmm) demands that things be done as soon as he thinks of them, lest we all forget.
But, we insisted, B has no pants! How can he put together furniture in his underwear?
He can wear an apron, my dad insisted, and pulled out one with the sexy figure of a woman in a bikini painted on it, complete with puffy 3 dimensional cloth breasts.
The sad thing was that he was serious.
When even my mom scoffed at this, my dad returned with a pair of black sweat pants for B to wear but since he is a lot smaller than my husband, it was like B was wearing tights and starring in a Shakespearean production.
But at least the furniture got put together leaving LM with the perfect "my first talk show host" experience. It is two chairs and a little round table. Sitting in it, he looks like a tiny Merv Griffon.
B therefore anointed me with the craziest parents trophy that he had carried for so long.
PS. As soon as I unpack/unearth/find my digital camera, I can take pictures of the tortureporch! By the way, due to a change in humidity, combined with no working outlet in the bathroom, the cool rocker chick hair now resembles more sad overtired toll booth employee so no pictures. I got to get a mirror and hang it near an outlet in one of the other rooms!
OK, that, up there, about the apron and the sweatpants? Was very funny. Good to see the crazy parent trophy is traveling again.
Posted by: elizasmom | April 16, 2007 at 08:32 PM
Yeah, having inlaws who're crazy as fuck is one thing. Then there are some things you can prepare for when navigating the minefield of OCD. (But only some.)However, nothing can prepare you for the humiliation of building children's furniture in form-fitting black sweatpants, having just narrowly missed having to wear a novelty apron over BVD's.
As I said at the time: Jesus fuck.
Posted by: Bri | April 16, 2007 at 08:54 PM
Also, if I remember correctly, the conversation went like this:
Father-in-law: Now Brian, here's the furniture, so you can get started.
B: Um... I'm in my underwear. Can this wait until my jeans get out of the dryer?
FIL: No, that would take too long. I'll see if I can find you some tools. (Exeunt.)
B (to M, who is ignoring me and reading), sotto voce: Am I to understand that they want me to build children's furniture... in my underwear?
M: I don't know.
FIL (offstage): OK, Brian, I got some tools.
B: This is silly. I can't build things like this. I'M IN MY UNDERWEAR.
MIL: Saul, Brian's undressed. Can't this wait?
FIL: Wait a minute, I'll get an apron.
---
MIL, some time later: Saul, even for you, that was a bit much.
B to MIL, also some time later: Apparently there's a fire somewhere and children's furniture has to be built RIGHT NOW, but I can't wait for my pants to get out of the dryer... "because it would take too long".
Posted by: Bri | April 16, 2007 at 09:02 PM
I'm just impressed Brian feels comfortable sitting around with your parents while IN his underwear...
Hooray for the crazy trophy! Though if I ever marry someone whose parents can challenge mine for it...man.
Posted by: Michaela | April 16, 2007 at 09:10 PM
Well, comfort is relative:
Father-in-law visiting his grandson's family in Hayward: feels it's perfectly normal to run around IN NOTHING BUT BOXERS, to the point of his daughter saying: Hey Dad, how about some pants?
Son-in-law visiting his wife's parents in MA: I know them well enough to walk in boxers from the bedroom to the bathroom, but feel uncomfortable sitting around in underwear, especially BVDs. The thing to remember here is that I was ordered to disrobe by my lovely wife so that the one pair of pants I brought could be laundered properly by my OCD FIL.
Apparently all this was a ruse so that I'd be forced into their little humiliation scheme.
Posted by: Bri | April 16, 2007 at 11:58 PM
Is there some sort of funniest post-and-comment thing I can nominate you guys for? Because the post was funny enough on its own, but with the addition of B's comments?
Cannot stop laughing!
Posted by: elizasmom | April 17, 2007 at 09:27 AM
I literally spit out my coffee when I read the apron/sweat pants bit. Your dad gives my crazy dad a run for his money.
Posted by: Lisa | April 17, 2007 at 09:43 AM
Forget pictures of the porch. It's a picture of B in his tights and apron that we want to see!
Living close to parents is often a blessing and a curse. Just smile and nod and enjoy date night again!
Posted by: Jessica | April 17, 2007 at 05:07 PM
I agree with Jessica! I must have pictures! Apron over BVDs was a funny image in itself. Description of novelty apron over BVDs? Icing on the cake.
Oh Bri. Think of the years of humiliation yet to come living this close to the in-laws.
Posted by: Anne | April 17, 2007 at 05:30 PM
I would love to see my husband put together baby furniture in his man-panties, if we were alone. But in front of my mother? eeeeeew....I would rather put it together by myself, 7 months pregnant with twins.
Posted by: Chickenpig | April 17, 2007 at 09:22 PM
Ohhhhhhh.... That's just, WOW! I'm not sure which was funnier... the tale told by Meridith including the bikini-apron part, or the blow by blow dialog from the poor man himself! MAH hahahahahahah!
Posted by: bon | April 17, 2007 at 09:58 PM
Ha ha! I love Bri's added commentary. I can't wait to see the picture of the apron with the puffy boobs.
Posted by: Claudia | April 19, 2007 at 03:29 PM