So, my future mother-in-law, she’s a trip. Not one I particularly want to take. The fairest way to put it is that we have distinctly different personalities. And that she absolutely hates mine.
The more frank way to put it is that I think she’s a stank bitch.
Crudity aside, tonight’s incident kind of put the nail in the coffin of any hopes I may have held of having a functional relationship with her. Having called Sunday to invite her and the rest of my truly lovely fiance’s family over for dinner at some convenient time over the long weekend at our apartment, she finally got back to us today. And by got back to us, I mean she yet again questioned our wedding plans, and, oh yeah, what he even saw in me.
Now, I don’t claim to be perfect, and I often find myself asking myself the very same thing. Hearing…


