Maybe my mother in law isn’t a bitch. Maybe the emotions of moving, when we were still contemplating it, were too much for her to hold in. I say that because I’m having those same waves of emotion with having to stay. I don’t have Alzheimer’s like she does, so it’s easier for me to acknowledge where the anger is coming from and try very hard not to direct at anyone, although Will has been the one with the bullseye on his back most days.
Yesterday, I did get some of my books unpacked and onto their respective shelves. I ended early like I said I was going to so I could enjoy Halloween in this fancy subdivision. I was a little disappointed, but not surprised, at the lack of participation in handing out candy from my neighbors, but I was not disappointed in the sheer number of kids that came to the house. By 7:35, we were officially out of my jumbo sized Costco bag of mini candy bars. The last few years when we lived in Myrtle Beach, it was kind of a game of how much candy could I give each kid because otherwise, we were left eating all the candy because we had so few trick or treaters.
I decided next year, our house will be the spectacle house. We are pretty much the first house you see when you pull into the neighborhood. So I’m going to make sure that people can see our decorations from the road. I think I’ll practice with Christmas…electric bill, be damned.
So, mother in law and I sat outside and gave out candy and when we came in, she does what she always does and shut the dog door and I did what I always do and open it back up because one of her dogs has a really bad habit of just pissing wherever she wants and if the dog door is open at least half the time she will use it. We had taken down our dog gate when we started moving and since our house is full up with boxes right now, we’ve just had a few boxes at the bottom of the steps to keep our dogs up and her dogs down. As I was laying in bed last night so close to deep sleep, I heard the jingling of Lucy’s collar. Lucy is a little dirty beagle. She’s got something wrong with her…like, she eats any and everything and now she’s got some weird patchy spots on her skin that I need to take her to the vet for this week, oh, and she looks like she’s elderly when really she’s only like 8. The 14 year old beagle looks way younger than her. The vet said it was something genetic, but I don’t remember.
Anyway, it’s that dog that brought on my rage last night. I heard her come up the steps and by time I actually woke up and realized I wasn’t dreaming she had just happily taken a shit in the hallway and when I opened the door to see it and pretty much lost my shit.
I sent Will a hate message that said when I get back from my hike tomorrow, the dog gate better be back up or the dogs better be gone. It wasn’t my finest moment, but it did give me a little bit of clarity and understanding what mother in law was maybe feeling about leaving the house she’s lived in for 25 years and why she wasn’t able to contain that anger because it was so deep that it would rival the pressure of lava from a volcano. I think I understand, because that’s what I felt last night when I thought about having to live in this house for the next 5-10 years or until his mom dies. Maybe I’ll get used to it. Hell, maybe I’ll even learn to enjoy the neighborhood and the neighbors, but for now, I’m heading out on a hike and I’m ordering a new dog gate so I don’t have to euthanize a beagle.
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