Julep: No limits

The Mr. Family has no sense of boundaries. Case in point:

Just a few moments ago, I was trying to put the Bear down for his nap. It was 11:30 a.m., a pretty normal time for such. But the dogs started barking like crazy, and they just kept on barking as though someone was right up at the house - I figured it was the UPS man. But the Bear would not be quieted: I had told him he would be seeing his granny after his nap, and he was convinced she was here. So finally I took him downstairs - where I found Mr-Aunt had let herself in the unlocked back door.

I must have given her a "why are you in my house" face because she opened with, "I tried knocking at the front and the back." Yes, I said, we were trying to take a nap. She handed me an envelope with our carnival raffle tickets from church and announced, "I picked up everyone's envelope at church at 9:00 Mass on Sunday, I've just been dropping them off."  After a few more awkward exchanges, she left.

Problem the first. If you want to drop something off at my house, there are two polite options open to you: (1) you can call ahead to ask if I'm home and if it's a convenient time for a short visit, or (2) you can drop it through my mail slot and be on your way without disturbing the whole fan-damily. It is never socially acceptable to let yourself into my house, no matter what you've brought with you.

Second problem: if you are making a spontaneous midday visit to the home of two children under the age of two, and your knock goes unanswered while your presence sets the dogs into hysterics, maybe consider the nap possibility and bolt from the front of the house. Don't prowl around and see if there is an unlocked door you can use to get into the house.

(Sidebar: if I hadn't come downstairs, how long do you think she would have poked around? She called out for Mr. J when she heard me on the stairs, but whatever, lady: she had just walked down the driveway staring straight at the open garage in which Mr. J's truck is clearly absent. My car was there, so either I'm the only adult present or we are all gone.)

Third problem, the least immediately obvious overstepping: this whole undertaking was unnecessary. She goes to 9 am Mass, which is not even the last Mass of the weekend - and this was the first weekend the tickets were set out. Why would she think she should pick up our tickets?Although some of the Mr-Family (like my FIL and MIL) are not regular church-goers, our household is punctilious about weekly attendance. If something at church needs picking up, I'm quite capable of doing that for myself. In fact, doing it for me is only likely to cause me trouble, as I will stand in the back of church frantically sorting through allegedly alphabetized envelopes trying to find ours while my toddler yells "outside!" to advertise the fact that we are sneaking out during Communion. Not that such an event has happened.

Judgy Grandma used to pick up our tickets for us ... and pay for them on the spot, then call to say, "Don't worry about your carnival tickets, I took care of everyone's." That was a real favor. This was just an excuse for Mr-Aunt to get all up in other people's business.

I know my MIL was not home this morning - she's golfing, that is why the Bear won't see her until this afternoon. I will bet cash money that Mr-Aunt let herself in over there too.