Wow this blog is dead...where is everyone? Where are Dibbs' crazy tales of hilarity and mayhem? Where are Julep's rants about the idle Mr-Mama and her SIL's perfect dog? Lola's silence on the Twitter feed is deafening (although she can be forgiven given her current status as new mama extraordinaire).
So, I'm just hopping on to relate a maddening example of family meddling.
A week ago Thursday night...I believe it was the night we all gathered over at chez Lola to meet her precious new bébé...y'all may remember that the Twinkle family was headed to the baseball game. Of course before the game I filled up on delicious spreadable cheeses provided by one Ms. Lola, and I'm not much on ballpark food anyway, so after the game we were all famished and decided to make a White Castle run.
(Let me say that I usually reserve the Whitey's run for the latest and most intoxicated of evenings, but we were all compelled by the hamburger/cheeseburger/chicken rings promotion on the jumbo-tron at Slugger Field--I dare anyone to resist it).
We were in the drive-thru when Mr. Twinkle's uncle called with a legal question, and he yammered on for a good 15 minutes while we waited for our sliders and while Twinklette screamed from the back seat that she wanted chicken rings (which we did not get her--I had to draw the line somewhere).
Fast forward to tonight--a week and a day later--when Mr. Twinkle's mom and grandmother brought up the fact that they heard from Uncle Brent that we'd been at the White Castle drive-thru. How annoying and offensive is that? Uncle Brent needs to mind his own d*mn business and look after his own affairs. And the worst part: I knew the moment Mr. Twinkle mentioned where we were that it would get back to the disapproving ears of my MIL. I mean, who brings that sh*t up a week later?
I advised Mr. Twinkle, in the future, to keep his own counsel about whatever dalliances he doesn't want his mother to b*tch at him about.
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