We’ve started betting on the MIL here in the ‘hood. It’s good clean gambling that only involves a quarter. And it makes sport out of her annoying habit of waffling on whether she’s going or not going.
For example… Hours before we’re expected, we must tell the MIL that we’ve been invited over to the Harper’s home. She needs hours because she’s not dressed and has no plans to get dressed all day. When we get an invite she simply cannot show up without a full face of make-up, jewelry, added volume to her hair, or proper attire. So, there’s a bit of waiting involved. You cannot just do things on the fly when she’s involved. And if she doesn’t feel invited, she will act out like an angry toddler. Oh yeah, that’s always fun.
Within the last few months, she has started to waffle on whether she’s going or not. No one cares if she goes or not, but it starts out with ”yeah, I guess I’ll go” or ”I think I’ll just stay home”. I don’t know if it’s part of the toddler act or not, but I get the feeling that she wants us to make a fuss about her indecision. As if she’s expecting something like “Oh please oh please come with us! Our lives just aren’t complete when you’re not with us during our every waking moment! We NEED you to come with us! Things just won’t be the same without you. We’ll be like a rudderless ship! Like a motorcycle without handlebars. You can’t let your absence unleash chaos into our lives.”
Then 20 minutes will go by as we’re all doing different things and she’ll say, “I just don’t think that I’m going.”
Our response is usually just an okay as we continue on with our business. A little bit later she’ll say, “I guess that I’ll go.” As if she’s doing us all a favor. And if she gets into gear, she’s going. If she plops down in her TV spot, she’s not going. We may notice that she’s still in her housecoat as we’re leaving and we’ll just say, “See ya later” and skip our asses right out the door.
And that’s where the betting has come into play. Her waffling can be anyone’s guess. The waffling centers around leaving the confines of our home when she doesn’t have to be anywhere. Visits to the doctor’s office or getting prescriptions are off limits. She will leave the house for those appointments and for her meds. It also serves as her replenishment of Lime-A-Ritas, cheap wine, more e-cigarette juice, and even cheaper coffee.
We have only started voting on the social invites that require her to leave the house. That’s where she waffles like mofo. I send out a text alert to members of the ‘hood. Will she be a go or a no go?
Members of our household may bet, but we don’t attempt to rig the outcome. It’s more sporting to see which way she’s going to go. And why would we rig the system when that activity could bite us in the ass?
If we try to talk her out of it, then she’ll feel offended. If we talk her into it, then she’ll expect it every time. We really want to be indifferent even without the betting. And besides, either way would open a can of worms that no one wants or needs to deal with.
We’ve had two bets since Saturday night. She was a go for both invites. A go to the Harper’s and a go for some shopping yesterday. Jamie is the only one with a winning streak. Betting on her going or not going is like betting on which way a squirrel running back and forth in the road will go as you’re driving. And it helps to keep me from losing my mind over someone’s seemingly constant indecision.
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