So after putting up with the MIL over Chriatmas she finally went home............to discover that her house was robbed. Just left there after 5 hrs of watching the cops go through an abandon apartment, arrest 3 hoodlums and have their mom call us honkies. I looked at her and said "bless your heart, I haven't been called a honky since Carter was in office". I thought I was being nice but apparently she didn't think so.

Hauled Nana's crap from her apartment yesterday. Windy as hell so I was getting around 11 mpg towing her crap. Luckily it didn't cost her a dime.

 Nana lives about 90 miles away and her storage place is owned by her brother and is another 60 miles. I argued that it would be cheaper to rent one in the town she lives in but it was already past noon on Saturday so we couldn't find a storage place with the office still open. I was just ready to mover her **** and be done with it. When we got to the apartment someone had put a note on the door. “smile for Jesus”. Now the mother of the hoodlums that robbed her had spent hours threatening us all the night before. The cops finally took her in but her roommate, boyfriend, ex-con bailed her right out along with the kids. Seems they wanted us to know that they were still around. As we started loading stuff up the crew rolled in. Had to put someone on guard duty with the trailer. Soon cars were coming and going at the neighbors place, each getting loaded with things in bags and covered in sheets or blankets. Since the cops said they couldn't get a warrant to search their apartment I'm guessing they were moving the stolen stuff from all over the surrounding neighborhoods out. The only stolen things the cops found were in the abandon side of their duplex. The kids were taken in for trespassing in the abandon unit but will probably never be charged with the theft.  The gangstas had their own little group stay outside playing some of the most vile rap songs they could find and yelling crap like "rednecks" "white trailer trash" and yes..."honkies" at us the whole time. After a while a truck pulled up and a 6'4" coverall clad gentleman stepped out to great us. He owned one of the duplexes that was robbed (the one in the background of the above picture) and his daughter lived in one side. He looked like the one guy at the bar that you knew to stay the hell away from if a fight started 'cause he has no qualms about going to jail. This was the second time his daughters place was broken into but the first time that he knew who did it. I envision some interesting things happening in the near future.

 What all didn't get packed up and moved was put in the garage but as I told the M-I-L, they don't want to steal any more of your ****, they will just bust in and destroy the place.

Having 2 kids in high school and starting a new job means limited free weekends to simply relax. Last weekend fell between show choir events, work related issues and the required trips to the city because someone has to have something because of a thing going on at a place and dad didn’t hear about any of it till Sunday and it is needed for Monday; a free weekend to do what I want, at last.

 

 So I get home and the wife’s car is packed and the kids are fighting over whose stuff is crossing that imaginary line in the back seat. Seems I forgot that this was the weekend to go in-law visiting. So I change and we hop in and off we go; 3 hours of phone calls asking “Where are you guys at now, why is it taking you so long” in 15 minute increments. I long for the simple days of “Are we there yet?” but alas those days have been replaced with “How long do we have to stay?”

We arrive just in time for some of Grandma’s fixins’ Now, in all fairness my wife’s grandparents have always treated me like family and I mean that in a good way. They may fuss and argue about the same issues most grandparents do: “Your kids are on the computer too much, they should be outside playing” (4 degrees out and it is night) or “You’re lucky your parents let you get away with (insert meaningless act here) because my kids never did” but all in all they are good folks. But this wouldn’t be much of a story if all we had to deal with was the grandparents, now would it. The repeated phone calls on the way there were from Nana. Seems we are required to maintain constant contact so our arrival can be met by her to insure that the visit will have zero chances of being peaceful. This particular trip had 2 items on the itinerary that I was not privy to. Since it was already evening time I decided to turn in early as to avoid the meaningless poor, poor miserable me talk so any clue as to what was in store and the planning process would remain a mystery.

 Upon my awakening I am met with the smell of breakfast cooking. I walk in and see both kids staying out of harm’s way watching YouTube videos and vines. They are safe as long as they remain in their separated state and do not enter into any exchange with anyone else. I on the other hand made the mistake of waking up. I’m first hit with itinerary 1, “We are going to the casino, do you want to go?” from Nana. Now it is a well-known fast in the family that I despise gambling. I don’t care if people do, I just can’t stand any part of it. So I declined and said I will keep grandma company and keep the kids in line. Then the question of who is driving the hour and a half to the boats came up. Nana was first out of the gate with “My car has stuff all in it and I need gas so I can’t drive.” My wife chimed in “OK, I’ll drive buy you pay for half my gas then.” Well that didn’t go over well and Nana quickly responded with “I don’t have the extra money.” (Seems asking for someone to pay for their share of fuel to take them somewhere is only acceptable when Nana has to be inconvenienced) I started to raise the question about the logic of gambling when you don’t even have gas money but I needed the 5 or 6 hours of peace and quiet so I kept my mouth shut.

 Later that afternoon the gamblers came strutting back in. Nana had won $40 and my wife $200. I asked them how much it cost to win that but of course they gave me the “what do you mean” look. I learned a long time ago that it sometimes takes $50, $100 or more to win $25 because they seem to forget how much they pumped into the machines over time before that big payoff. I guess it’s their way to justify tossing their cash away. Anyway, I said “Guess you can afford to pay for half the gas now.” Woops. OK, seriously, how does saying that make me rude? She didn’t have enough, now she does, PAY FOR GAS! Well, I let the hostilities towards me and my comment die down as supper was almost ready and it was grandma’s lasagna; I didn’t want to ruin a good meal.

  After we ate I went into the living room whilst the ladies schemed and planned. I was called back in and there was a cake with candles and some ice cream. Since we don’t get to the wife’s grandparents on birthdays she will do this if someone’s birthday was around the time when we do show up. So I blow the candles out and cut a piece of carrot cake; I like grandma’s carrot cake. Seems this year Nana had suggested an extra ingredient though. Pecans in the cake and the ice cream was butter pecan. Now to most folks this would sound like Nana was being nice; let me go back a few years and explain how she wasn’t.