My Obama Mama
Sitting in my kid's dentist office, I was reading Time magazine, well not reading reading, it is impossible to actually read when you are nervously waiting for the dental assistant to come running from the back to get you after the "parents wait in the lobby" policy fails. Frantically skimming was more like it. Anyway, I came across an article about the problem stand up comics are having trying to come up with jokes about Obama. I realized I have the same problem with my mother in law. From a daughter in law's stand point, she is a gift from heaven, but from a comic's stand point, she is a nightmare. I simply can not come up with any bits about her because she is so damn perfect.
I just returned from visiting my in laws with my children sans Hubby for a week because he had to work. I didn't think anything of this little excursion (except the anxiety of flying with toddlers) until Rafael's preschool teacher said, "You visited your in laws? Alone? I didn't consider myself a maverick, but I gathered from their facial expressions that to them I am now Luke Skywalker. When my friends heard of my trip, their typical response was, "Suicide mission, huh?"
I expect my friends' responses because many of them have the traditional evil MIL, the comic's gold mine. Most have the common jealous MIL, with the creepy "he used to be my boy" Electra complex. I have a friend with a MIL who always tries to peel her son's hand away from her DIL's grasp and whines things like, "why aren't you sitting next to me, Petey? Shrink time, honey. Others have MILs who lecture them about how to raise their grandchildren. Me? I actually ask my MIL for constructive criticism, but she rarely gives it. She did kindly mention that the name "Crock Addict" on Sahmmy.com was better than "Crock Whore", my original idea, because it was less offensive.
Her cooking can't be touched; the woman gets Cook's and tries the recipes. My God, her chicken satay and homemade spicy peanut sauce rivals any Thai restaurant in every city I have lived. I grew up in Kansas, biscuit and gravy headquarters, and my B&G recipe came from my mom who majored in Home Ec and cooked for schools and senior citizen kitchens. But my MIL taught me how to make it even better. I can't work with this!
Her house is a grandkid's paradise. There are bikes in the garage, lovingly purchased for each grandchild, and a pool in the large backyard. She has saved dress up clothes and play jewelry for future girls to play with that my girls spend hours wearing. There are bins of toys, books for nighttime stories, extra diapers in each of her grandkid's sizes and mountains of pillows and blankets for movie watching naps. For my visit, she bought me a Venus razor to use so I wouldn't have to pack mine. (she doesn't
know how infrequently I shave) Seriously, she is untouchable.
Those are only a few examples of her frustrating virtue. In case any of you read this as a "kiss ass" entry, remember, I am a comic. This is my worst dream come true. In a territory that is normally a flood plain, I have dust. I drew the flawless MIL card which means I have to work even harder to come up with new material. And now Rafael's first solo dentist experience rendered nothing as she was crowned "best child patient we have ever had". As parent, I was relieved, but as a comic, I was pissed.
I hate you. It is not fair. Next time you visit her, take Weston and me with you.
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