Twinkle: Dammit. Just Dammit.

So Mr. Twinkle's bar exam is next week, and I thought I'd have a surprise for him when he came back home. I wanted to have a tv hung in our bedroom so we could snuggle up and watch movies now that he's actually going to have a little bit of free time again. (I also had a few updating projects for our upstairs bathrooms, although, granted, Mr. Twinkle would probably have been slightly less excited about those aspects of the surprise).

So I texted MIL to find out the number of her handyman, Terry. I should have known better. Right off she texted me back to make sure everything was OK. Like I'm going to send her a text message that included the phrase "when you get a chance" if all hell is breaking loose around the house and the only person who can remedy the situation is Terry the Handyman.

I called Terry and set something up, and then I went about my day. Later it occurred to me that my MIL is a meddling busybody who has to know everybody's business, so I texted her and asked her not to mention anything to Mr. Twinkle.

Too late.

She called him to find out if we're hosting our supper club soon. I don't know about you girls, but every time I throw an elegant gourmet dinner, I consult with Terry the Handyman first. Mr. Twinkle had no idea why she was asking about our supper club, but then it came out that I had requested Terry's number for some around-the-house projects that I was intentionally vague about with her (I don't feel that I have to elaborate to my MIL about my home improvement project ideas via text message in 130 characters or less). Anyway, that nosy bitch totally ruined the surprise.

By the way, she hasn't answered my second text yet (the one asking to keep it secret). And I would respect her so, so, so much more if she'd just say something to the effect of, "I'm so sorry--I already mentioned it to him. I didn't know it was a surprise. My bad." The silence is deafening.

The worst part is I know that I have only myself to blame for expecting her to keep her mouth shut about something for more than a couple of hours. I should have known better. It serves me right for using her handyman/trusting her to keep her big mouth shut in the first place. But ugh. Just ugh. It would have been so exciting to see Mr. Twinkle's face when he saw that tv on the wall.

On the upside, she is going to hate the frivolous wallpaper that is going up in the bathrooms. It is so not the standard-issue beige that she and my SIL prefer. So at least there's that.