Thursday, April 14, 2011

Nothing is quite like a Southern bred mother-in-law

Most days I find it super hard to be me. There is the maintenance involved to deal with my ever multiplying phobias, and the knowledge that even if I think I'm coping with them I'll probably end up with some bizarre medical affliction as a result. It's really quite exhausting. One of the only people I've ever met who is as flummoxed by just being as I am is my dear friend Kelly Lynne. Of course she made her life a gazillion times more difficult by leaving the liberal hot bed of the Colorado mountains and transplanting herself into the Deep South where rules run deep and mother-in-laws are a breed crazy like no other. My daily early morning routine is to lie in bed for a few minutes and check the email on my phone, this morning the snippet from below awaited me. It made me giggle and want to go to the bathroom.

Lord, please oh please help me navigate the murky underworld of Southern Bridal Shower Etiquette. And please remind me, in the future, that sneakers are not proper foot attire for such an event. Even for one held immediately after work, by your co-workers, at a job for which you wear sneakers frequently. Especially when your MIL and her very own SIL (a woman she detests and lives in competition with) are invited. Lord, I know this is my second marriage, that I am 42, and that I have a 4 year old with the man to whom I am betrothed, and Lord, I know that totally labels me a 'tart' (but seriously: what a fun word!! worth the label, IMHO.) And, Lord, I know that my MIL dies a thousand deaths every time she is reminded of the fact that every. single. person. in. this. town. knows. we. are. not. already. married. But I beg of you that a public party (or you know, six or eight of them) dedicated to this single fact will not kill her dead until after the wedding. Because, really, a death in the immediate family within a month or two of the wedding would darken the doorstep of our marital bliss, and I have already paid for the honeymoon. And Lord, thank you so much for reminding such a high percentage of the shower attendees that we have plenty of cloth napkins, scented candles, prepackaged waffle mix and casserole dishes, and not nearly enough of (whispered desperately at the start of the shower gift opening) "don't display the bottle part of my gift!!!"s. We like those.

And God, an issue not as important as the impending nuptials and all the chaos that surrounds that, I would like to discuss a couple of minor issues in relation to the Episcopal Choir I recently joined: Look, the other Alto and I (We are Episcopalians, and therefore a single step away from HELL in this town.. so our congregation is small, as is our choir) are not cradle Episcopalians and are not even from the South. Therefore we cannot sight read music, we cannot understand the choir director when he speaks, and for the most part, we cannot sing. So really, just, I don't know, just do something. Anything. While I am not willing to sacrifice anything to this request, the other alto might be. She is from California. She has practice in the sacrifice arena.


  1. I wouldn't survive 10 minutes in that atmosphere without succumbing to drugs or alcohol or both. Excellent writing to the both of you.

  2. Thanks, MB! It's totally a dog eat dog world where Kelly Lynne lives. She handles it with extreme grace, even nobility if you will.