Who irons their undies??! I have a million other things to be doing other than worrying about if my undies have wrinkles. My ex-aunt use to send her undies, pjs, gym clothes, everything to the dry cleaner's.
I have some issues with my future inlaws. I've posted about them before, but don't have time to go into it to it now.
Hehe, like I told my fiance, beyond me and him, no one sees my knickers to see if they even have wrinkles in them anyway. And he's of the same mind as me with ironing--if it's a shirt or trousers or something, fine, but anything underneath is fair game, as long as they're clean
I guess I really don't have major things to complain about (yet), but I haven't moved over properly. So, we'll see what happens when I'm there full time, thankfully my fiance is more keen to talk to his mum over the phone than to go over to her house for tea or something.
It seems to be more when she's tipsy, that's when some of the more awkward/hurtful things have a tendency to come out--but then she also starts singing to herself and talking about cute her little boy is (my fiance is 38, it's a bit awkward) and trying to hug him, and he just tries to shrug it off so he doesn't hurt her feelings. I just know in a lot of ways I don't (and won't) really measure up to the wife she's turned out to be--she's extremely considerate at times, but also runs the house with an iron first. When we go out shopping, she'll call around lunchtime to make sure her husband has made himself a sandwich--even my SIL told her that was silly, he's well over 60 years old and perfectly capable of putting one together. If I were to be like that with my fiance, I think he'd go batty from me nagging on him so much
I guess I'll throw out an example of something that bugged me, since I need to vent
We were staying in her house for a couple weeks while the Council sorted my fiance's house out (he had to sell his old one to sort out the last bits of his divorce agreement, and the Council found him something at the last minute but it needed some work, and we didn't want to go into a B&B). It was in the evening, and my fiance had just come home, and got on his laptop to sort out some emails and bills before settling down for the night; he had it plugged in, so it didn't waste the battery.
So, she comes in and sees us on his laptop, sorting some stuff out and just generally being internet nerds. I think she was a little tipsy by this point (it wasn't horribly obvious, but I could tell by her voice), and she said that we were wasting loads of electricity by running the laptop from the wall--loads, like, enough to really impact their bill. And my fiance was paying her 50 quid a week to stay there to cover those sorts of things, and food and stuff. Really? That didn't make either of us feel real welcome--I was tempted to sit in a room all day and not run any electricity whatsoever for two weeks
I know in part it's a cultural/generational thing, but it made us feel awkward, like everything we were doing was being a burden to her in some major way. I didn't know what to do with myself while my fiance was at work--if I went upstairs into the spare bedroom to read, I was being standoffish; if I stayed downstairs I felt like I was intruding on their privacy (even though they had a formal front room, and an informal front room, and we always stayed in separate areas). So, it was just a long, awkward 2 weeks, and there were certain things she could of kept to herself to keep us from feeling like a couple big dorks just encroaching on everyone. I'm so thankful that she let us stay there, don't get me wrong--it must not have been easy to open her house up to a Yank. But she could of at least *pretended* at times that we weren't a burden; and he was paying her for us to stay there, and on the weekends we were gone doing stuff to stay out of their hair.
Hehe, and as soon as we got the go-ahead to get into the Council house, we were there--nothing else was set up except the telly, and a mattress on the floor, but it was heaven
...now I think I feel better, maybe