I’m going to admit this here: I’m not always the nicest person. Sometimes I’m a little bit petty. And when it comes to dealing with one of Will’s grandmothers, I’m a lot petty.
Will is one of those lucky people who still has two living grandparents (I have none). He has his Grandma Rose, who is the sweetest woman ever and always tells me she loves me, and then he has Grandma Doris. She does not like me, not one bit. She has made that clear on numerous occasions. I understand some of her reasoning: after all, I did marry her favorite grandchild but did not take his last name, so therefore I must be a demon from hell bent on the utter destruction of her family. Of course, it wouldn’t have mattered. Even if I had taken his last name she’d still hate me – she’s hated Will’s mom for forty years, and my poor mother-in-law Kathy did take the last name and had two male offspring. If that wasn’t enough to make Doris like her, nothing is.
So anyway, last weekend, Doris happened to be passing through our town for a few hours. She’s on one of those bus tours that travels around the southwest, and they were overnighting here. She wanted to meet Mellow for the first time, and see Wildling, and, of course see her “Number 1” – that’s her name for Will, because he’s her number 1 grandchild, and yes, she does say this in front of his brother because she’s just that kind of person.
So we go to the hotel. And I dealt with the passive-aggressive remarks that she tends to make, and I did not respond to them. But, as my mother-in-law pointed out, I did retaliate as well.
Doris hates the word ‘butt.’ She finds it offensive. She doesn’t think anyone should use such offensive terminology. I’m sure you can see where this is going. While we were there, Wildling sat on a table, and then stood on a chair, so of course, I had to correct her. In our postmortem (because my mother-in-law and I always discuss Doris’ visits and the nasty things she says/implies to us) Kathy told me how impressed she was with me – she’s never heard anyone say ‘butt’ so many times in her life.
I was like “Wildling, no butts on the table. No butts, get your butt off that table. Yes, butts on the chair, sit on your butt. On your butt, now, sit on your butt.” I’m not exactly sure how many times I said ‘butt,’ but a conservative estimate would put it in the thousands.
In your face, Grandma Doris. You want to tell everyone I’m not good enough for your grandson and I’m only after his money (what money, anyway, you crazy bat?). That’s fine. Talk trash all you want, and I’ll keep saying ‘butt.’
Butt, butt, butt, butt, butt. Butt.