I must say, there are some big advantages to not speaking the same language as one’s inlaws. So when my MIL comes to visit and walks around the house looking horriefied that her children are being raised in such squalor, I can just not understand a word she says.
I prefer it that way.
He was (and I hope still IS) a great old guy and a fantastic story teller. I can tell you the story, but it’s not the same as hearing the Colonel tell it.
He was just a Captain, or maybe a Major, and was on a rountine flight, back in the late 60s. Back then, most of the general public (and a fair percentage of the military) hadn’t yet heard the Area 51/captured UFO/secret aircraft and weapons rumours. At some point his plane started losing fuel rapidly. He had a fuel leak, and didn’t think he could make it back to Nellis AFB. They asked if he could make it to Edwards AFB. Nope, he said.
His first orders were to take the plane deeper into the desert to a relatively unpopulated area, ditch the aircraft and eject. A minute or two later, he got asked if he could make it to blah, blah, blah, X,Y,Z coordinates (it was all in PilotSpeak, which I don’t know and can’t remember anyway) with the amount of fuel he had left. He said yes, and they routed him to a ‘government installation’ in the desert near a dry lake bed. He was given landing instructions and told to taxi to the end of the field, and keep looking forward.
He popped his cockpit canopy and waited, staring straight ahead as instructed. He mentioned that the air smelled like burned plastic, grease, and maybe a little sulphur…definately an industrial smell. Within minutes, a jeep with two guys in it (NOT Air Force MPs, or Army, or…) showed up. They put a blindfold on him and told him to stay in the plane. He could hear another vehicle pull up, and work starting on the plane. After about an hour of sitting in the hot Nevada sun in a full flightsuit, he called out and asked if he could have something to drink. A few minutes later, someone brought him a can of Coke. He sat, and sat, and sat for over 4 hours.
Finally a guy—a different guy—came and told him that the plane was repaired and re-fueled. He was also told, in no uncertain terms, that he should forget where he’d landed, and what had happened, or his military career might suffer irrepairable harm.
When he got back to Nellis AFB, he was debriefed by the base commander and ‘some guy’ in a business suit who was not military. After being grilled endlessly about what he had or had not seen, he was sent home, again with a stern warning about how discussing the incident, even with family, and the base near the dry lake could harm his career. They couldn’t stress the “…forget it ever happened” part enough.
[Barfly] Nah, but I feel better when they’re not around. [/Barfly]
I didn’t like my MIL. She didn’t have a problem with me, though, and I hope I kept my feelings for her hidden well enough. We’re pretty sure she was bi-polar, but could never get a straight answer from any of her Dr.'s. She once called to tell me she was moving to the city we lived in, so that I could clean her apartment for her. She got into a fist fight with her SIL in my living room on my wedding day and she chose my wedding reception to fall off the wagon after about 20 years.
I avoided her if at all possible, because I just couldn’t deal with her mood swings and behavior problems, but her boys adored her. They didn’t have an easy childhood; she had a string of husbands and usually no money. But they were a close family, including all the extended family in the area. I get along with the rest of the relatives just fine, but she ground on my nerves.
She died suddenly, about 5 years ago, and her oldest son found her in her apartment after 2 days.
I would gladly put up with her now, if my husband could have his mom back.
This is the most wonderful thing I’ve read on the Dope in a long time.
My in-laws are fine. No complaints. My FiL refuses ever to be ripped off, even for a nickel. He’ll cross the city if he’s heard there’s a better price on popsicles at a suburban discount store, and he’ll go from store to store with the other stores’ discount flyers, claiming they should match prices or even undercut each other, since he’s a loyal customer (!) and deserves the extra discount. He once escalated a price matching claim all the way to head office, only to be told they don’t get into price-matching disputes when the item is under one dollar. But apart from that, I got nuthin’. The in-laws are OK.
Yes, it improved the relationship considerably.
What is the Stephen King quote -
Or something like that.
Or the C.S.Lewis one -
Regards,
Shodan
I think this plays into something my MIL has in her favor. My FIL was actually her second husband. Her first husband was a narcissistic SOB that she married when she was only 18, and barely knew better. She and her first husband lived with his parents. Apparently, they were both real works of art! Then, some years later, she married my FIL, whose parents were wonderful to her. She always told me “I learned how not to be a MIL, and I learned how to be a MIL; I figure if I didn’t raise him well enough to pick a good wife, that was no one’s fault but my own”.
My mother-in-law is just fine.
My wife’s mother-in-law, on the other hand, is a royal pain in the ass.
Thankfully, no. My father-in-law is one of the funniest, wisest, most pleasant to be around guys I know. He’s hilarious and I love hangin’ out with him and truly relish the time together. My mother-in-law and I might have had to get a couple of little things ironed out at first but we’re golden now. We’re planning a second home near them and I’m pretty excited about that. I’m probably closer to my sister-in-law than I am to my own sisters. She’s an absolute doll.
My wife has a great relationship with my parents too. I know this doesn’t always work perfectly so we’re both fortunate and appreciative.
Yeah. They fucking suck. Next question please?
I’m very, very lucky. I have wonderful in-laws (as does my husband!)
Husband once told me that one thing that made him sadder than anything was that his father died before he could meet me - he would’ve loved me.
Yeah, I choked up…
My husband and I have a long running joke that each set of our parents likes their offspring’s spouse better than their own child and firmly believes that their child has a much better spouse than they deserve.
I get on very well with his parents (and siblings) who are generally great people, who accepted me as part of the family pretty much instantly (being the first girlfriend he ever introduced to them may have helped me here). They have their moments, but so does everyone, especially when you spend as much time around them as you do family.
My relationship with my parents (especially my mother) has been pretty fraught the last few years, owing mainly to a bitter divorce and their persistent attempts to drag me into it. I’m pretty sure my mother thinks I’m a bad daughter most of the time. On the other hand, they both think my husband is great. Whenever I’m complaining about the latest passive-aggressive email and my bad daughter status he promises to put in a good word for me.