A few vignettes.
Y’all have heard this one but I’m recording it for posterity because it is just so weird:
We were in Chicago for a family wedding, and on one of the nights we went to someone’s house for dinner—friends my in-laws, and their kids who grew up with my husband, and grandkids were all there.
They cooked out hamburgers, etc. After dinner I was sitting at the kitchen island talking to everyone, and there was a bowl of chips in the middle of the island that everyone was still snacking on. The hostess was about to clear away the chips but noticed people were still eating them and left them. A few minutes later Fun Sink helpfully came to take the chips away—there was no booze at this party so she probably relished talking away what little joy people were having. The hostess said, “Oh, leave those out—I think people are still eating them.” Fun Sink said, “Oh, are they?” and made a big show of putting the bowl right in front of me.
Why is she such a bitch? I really don’t care and I think it’s funny. We laughed about it on the way home. But, like, wtf? Everyone was eating the chips. They were in the middle. I was not tucking into a huge bowl of chips by myself after the meal. The bowl was empty at the end of the night, but you best believe I didn’t touch another one after that incident. Why does she hate me?
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That same trip we invited my MIL to come shopping with us. Eldest needed to shop for rush and so we thought it would be fun to hit the Chicago stores, and we naturally figured Fun Sink would want to be part of it. She was really weird and cagey about it and made up a weird excuse about why she couldn’t go. She has been super weird about rush, too. She said something to Eldest about, “What do you need for that rush thing?” My kids call her out in ways I never could. Eldest said, “What do you mean, ‘that rush thing’? Aunt L****** was in a sorority. You know what rush is.”
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Fun Sink’s mom died a week shy of 101, which is really sad and I would never wish it on anyone, but she’s still finding ways to be mean, even at her most vulnerable.
We were over at the grandma’s house, dividing up family keepsakes. I’m the only one taking heirlooms, by the way. No one else wanted a sterling silver button hook from the 1800s and the platter and bowl from my husband’s grandmother’s third great grandmother. We also inherited all the large framed Olan Mills portraits of my husband from 1980. I guess Fun Sink didnt’t want these, so I have become their custodian, and the decor in my house doesn’t have the wood paneling and shag carpeting that they require.
While we were there, my husband’s cousin, N, and his girlfriend, A****, were there. The girlfriend is really nice and I like her. He needs to put a ring on it because she’s basically the only friend I have in this family. The girlfriend was talking about another estate sale, that of the grandma’s best friend, in which the family sold precious things like a little framed baby picture of their mother from 1920 (way less obtrusive than the huge Olan Mills 8x10s). I actually bought this baby picture. I wasn’t going to let it go to strangers. Another thing the family sold was some embroidery that my husband’s grandmother had done, and some stained glass panels that my husband’s uncle, now deceased, had made. The person who made the stained glass was N’s father, and N had gone to the sale hoping to buy the panels but they were thousands of dollars.
I had been talking the entire day about how terrible I thought it was that the family was selling these things. I had been going on and on about the baby picture and the embroidery. My girls really loved this old lady, and they were each going to buy a teacup at the sale to remember her, but it turned out the sale was cash only so we couldn’t get the teacups. I had to scrounge for change in my car to rescue the baby picture. I made the point that, if it had been me, I would have invited the close family friends over to take a small souvenir from the sale. Fun Sink should have her mother’s embroidery. I DEFINITELY would have given N the glass his father made. I went on and on and on about it the whole day, and I was especially horrified over the baby picture.
Fun Sink was there for all of it and knew my opinions on the matter, which is why I was surprised to hear her say, “A**** says the family really should have invited us all over to take a meaningful piece from the sale. A**** thinks that would have been the right thing to do. A**** says it was terrible that they were selling heirlooms that were meaningful to our famly.” Hey bitch, don’t you mean TWINKLE said? I mean, A**** agreed, but I had been saying it for hours!
A**** is already more accepted in this family than I ever will be. And no, she’s not even Jewish.
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At dinner recently, Fun Sink looked me in the eye and asked me if I knew anyone with sourdough starter.
Um…baking bread is my thing. I make all kinds of bread all the time. I consider it an art and a science. I literally love it so much I’ve hoped that I still get to do it in heaven. I have made sourdough bread for her on multiple occasions.
So I said, “I have some. I’d love to share it with you.” And I meant it, like I always do.
Suddenly she wasn’t so interested in sourdough anymore. She made an excuse about why she didn’t want it.
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