Ok, I admit it, I'm a bitch....

And yesterday, I was a really really big one.

So I come home from work (after going to the grocery store for my MIL - brownie points) and look at the clock. It's now 4:40 and we have to be at my MIL's by 5:30. I tell this to my DH.

His words were "Yeah, Yeah, I know, but I have to figure out what's wrong on my dump truck"

Me: "Why, are you using it tonight?"

Him: "Well, no, but I HAVE TO KNOW"

Me: Whatever, just hurry up"

So at 5:35 I get a call from my MIL to tell me that they are starting to eat without us. (We are celebrating my demon nephew's birthday).

So I bundle up my kids, get their coats on and open the front door. See the guy that came over to check out what was wrong on the dump truck is afraid of my Rottie. He loves my Pitt, but he's afraid of my Rottie. So I knew he would leave if she was outside.

Man I'm a cold bitch. But it worked.

That's my first instance of being a bitch.

Then we get up to my MIL and I see that my BIL and SIL parked in the carport.

WTF? Their kids are old enough to walk themselves. I have to carry 2 kids, plus diaper bag, plus groceries. Do they fucking care??? NO.....

So I walk in pissed.

Then I'm carrying the kids and stuff in, and did anyone offer to help???


NOOOOOO...my DH was still down home playing with his dump truck, and I'm carting all this stuff - plus kids - in with NO HELP.

Fuck em. Now I'm getting irritated.

So we get in and it's time to eat, we say our prayer, and get the kids seated.

Here is where my temper starts to boil. The birthday boy turned 5 yesterday (but he couldn't tell us how old he was, but that's another post). He is sitting in the FUCKING BABY CHAIR. Ok, irritation number one. I have a FUCKING BABY who is too big for a high chair, and needs to sit in the BABY CHAIR. But it's his birthday, so he gets what he wants. Then we are dishing out dishes. The birthday boy gets the only small plastic plate (USUSALLY RESERVED FOR THE BABY) and the only baby fork. My ACTUAL BABY got a glass plate and a grown up fork (which I switched to a spoon)

I, being catty, said...well this is pretty screwed up, the baby eating off of glass while the 5 year old eating off plastic. I was told, very frostily from my SIL...

Oh well, he got it first, that's the one he wanted.

Oh my gosh - so that means in order to appease him we get to take the chance of a glass plate breaking??? That's WONDERFUL.

Ugghhhh....I give up. They will never think like rational humans. They are incapable of a complete and coherent adult thought. Why I keep hoping is beyond me.