Twinkle: I Couldn't Make This Sh*t Up If I Tried

So our car was leaking some sort of coolant (engine, air conditioner, I have no idea...) and my MIL was gracious enough to meet Twinklette and me over at the dealership, and then drop me off at my hair appointment and watch Twinklette for a few hours. I had a fun time chatting with Ryan of the Purple Mohawk, my fabulous stylist, and he ended up styling me in an almost Mad Men-esque bouffant, in honor of my State Fair cameo tonight. MIL picked me up right on schedule to take me to collect my car, and all was going well. In the car we chatted about the school system and the ever-controversial busing situation.

She was talking about how terrible it is for little children to be taken out of their neighborhoods on an hour and a half bus ride across town, when instead resources should be poured into their home schools and blah blah blah teacher talk...(and I actually do agree with her on that). Anyway, she was like, "Well, there's something we can do when Twinklette gets to that age...", and I said, "Oh, I'm sure it'll be all ironed out by then and there'll be some new big controversy everyone's talking about." She said, "Well...yes...but there's something we can do."

First red flag: her use of the Royal we. Second red flag: her insistence on "doing something" even five years down the road, when the problem is likely to be solved. I saw it coming so I told myself to sit back and enjoy it. And, yet, what came next was shocking in its presumptuousness.

She then started extolling the virtues of giving educational guardianship to her and my father-in-law, so that Twinklette can go to the school of their choosing (which, of course, is the one where MIL served as stern and humorless schoolmarm for 30 years...and while we're on the subject, there's no telling what she thought of my kitchy "State Fairdo"). She was like, "Well, if Twinklette doesn't get into Bloom or whatever school around you all that is...decent..." (clearly by "decent" she actually meant "trashy snakepit"), "...we can just give educational guardianship to FIL and me and she can go to Wilder!" At least now it makes sense why she didn't put up a huge fuss when we bought a house far from Wilder's district. She had educational guardianship in her back pocket all along.

I'm sure I don't have to explain to you girls the high improbability of me handing any sort of guardianship--educational or otherwise--to this woman. I would sooner lick the floor of Cardinal Stadium at at this weekend's free Oak Ridge Boys concert. I don't even want her to go to Wilder--it's one of those depressing midcentury elementary schools with no windows--and I really want Twinklette to forge her own path in a school, not live under the shadow of her father, aunt, cousins, and every other relative whose parents my MIL strong-armed into attending there. Why does she think she can run everyone's life?

It's a common practice, according to my MIL, to write down the address of a friend or relative when registering for classes at a school not in your district but close (and, if that's true, why couldn't we do that instead of seeking to transfer educational guardianship?!?!?...but of course we all know why...because MIL has to be in control, and she is an authority on education, you know). Anyway, if that were the case, I could just write down Lola's address as she lives in Bloom's district (as long as she doesn't mind). Any of you, really, could probably do this for me if getting into Bloom became a problem. I wonder how MIL would like it if I took legal action to make one of my crazy-*ss girlfriends educational guardian? I almost want to do it to find out...any volunteers?

The bottom line: I don't even know where I want Twinklette to go to school, but I know where I don't want her to go, and I know I won't be handing over the educational reins to my MIL, now or ever.