My in-laws decreed that we should present ourselves at their home on Christmas Day in order to eat with them (this in itself is painful - we’re veggies, they are not and will not cater for weirdoes like us). The reason for this? My husband’s mother is a home for dementia sufferers. For 364 days of the year she is ignored by my brother and sister in-law, whilst we take care of all of her affairs, visited twice a week etc. We’d called them prior to them collecting her from said home because she’d been ill when we visited on Christmas Eve and we weren’t sure that they should drag her out to their house for the festivities, and also that we would go over and see her at the home and could all meet there for an hour.
Naturally they didn’t listen. We arrived as commanded on Christmas morning to find her slumped on a settee a room away from the rest of the family, unable to sit up straight whilst the delightful Homer like bro-in-law slurped beer on his automatic reclining chair for lard arses and they all totally ignored her.
My husband was extremely distraught to find her in this condition, it transpires the home asked them to leave her there and it had taken thirty minutes to get her in the car but the fat goon had insisted that she ‘should be with family’. Yeah, the family who are otherwise conspicuously absent…
As they were all smashed we decided to take her home. My sister in law, who is a palliative care nurse and usually takes care of her toiletry needs (I can’t lift her as she’s physically about 6 stone and ten inches bigger than me), basically dumped her onto our car seat where she promptly evacuated her innards all over the cushion. S-I-L ran into house and shut door (to be fair, she's actually very sweet but completely under lard-arse's thumb). I had murderous thoughts. My poor husband became even more distressed.
Needless to say when we got home, after thoroughly cleansing the car, we locked the door, unplugged all phones, ate lots of pizza and opened several bottles of wine. My poor mum in law had to be hospitalised due to a raging chest infection.
Next year I’m booking a cottage on the Isle of Mull for a week, with views of nothing but black rocks and cold sea. Heaven. |
