I had the best weekend and it was brought to me by the most unlikely source.
One of the Honey's brothers.
Specifically his oldest brother, who has had a tendency to bring up every misdeed the Honey ever committed, and endlessly contends that the Honey broke his father's heart. The Honey feels that he did everything possible for his dad, including being the one to find him collapsed of a heart attack, and so those conversations tend to go downhill rapidly. I try to steer clear of it all--my family doesn't DO drama.
This Brother in law, however, sank into the bubbling, oozing tar pits of my esteem when he marched my year old daughter to me in the middle of a family party as if she smelled, and told me that his mother was OFF work and I could watch my own kid. As if I could pry my daughter away from his mom with a crowbar. As if it was my idea to use his mom as daycare in the first place. prick.
So you can imagine how thrilled I was when I got the call from the Honey on Saturday that we had spaced the party for this BIL's only child, and I'd better hustle to be there by 2--without him. Really? A root canal, no anesthesia, but a camera so I can see what they're doing? That'd be swell!
Packed up my O's and stopped at the store for a funny card, and stuffed some cash in it--who are we kidding, like I'd know what a bona-fide you tube star (don't ask) would want, or as if I would open myself up to BIL's scorn for choosing the wrong gift. Not gonna go there.
But lo, we walked into bizarre-o world. The niece tolerated Big O (those quince practices really helped) and so did her hip/thuggy friends. They were dancing in the garage with a black light all night. When it came time to go, at about ten, Big O actually begged to stay. I was beat and loaded him into the car, but..but he's NEVER asked to stay at ANY family party. He's never asked me to go to a party. When favorite SIL offered to drop him off later, I caved so fast it was embarrassing.
After we left, the cops showed up about twelve to talk about the noise. One of the kids opened up the garage door and they all stared at the cops for a minute and then bolted into the back yard. The cops thought it was hilarious, because true Stockton thugs:
A) would not have had sixteen grandmas and forty-two Mexican aunties wandering thru the garage to keep everyone suitably spaced and decently covered--school dances are not as well chaperoned.
b) would still freeze momentarily, then would have stared down the cops, if not making outright statements about sizzling pork.
But Big O gets to go to school on Monday and talk about the black light, the computerized music he got to help with, the live older girls, and oh, yeah, then the cops broke it up. No, man, my mom wasn't there.
It's a thirteen year old's dream come true.
So I had a little more love for the BIL this morning when the Honey said we were headed over there for brunch. I don't have to cook? hells, yes. We're there.
I warned Little O that all of the little kids she had played with the night before would be gone, so we packed some toys for a bored kindergartner. BIL was way ahead of me, and totally had me beat.
I don't think he expected it to get the kind of reception it did, but he had found something in the Niece's things that he thought Little O would use in years to come:
Oh.My.Dawg. Little O pored over it all day. We talked about alphabetical order, and looked up everything she could think of, We went thru the maps in the back, she started working on her ASL, REALLY wanted the pictures of the Braille alphabet to be raised. All day, she soaked it up. I think he was equally amazed, but BIL found the perfect thing for my girl.
He's out of the tar pits. Both of my O's had a fabulous weekend, and I owe it all to him.