As some of you know, my Mother in Law is visiting from London - the joy never ends...I've been Cheering and Jeering her for the last few days, but thought this little event deserved a place all to itself:
I take back all my bad MiL comments in the last few days, because after last night she deserves –
KUDOS to the MiL! When I arrived home yesterday evening with a box full of wine and liquor (per the list) for tonight’s party (you’re all invited) I wasn’t even given a chance to sample any of it before Dave had another assignment for me. I was handed another list and told to go to Safeway. Great! Nothing I’d rather do after a long day – but then, the MiL informed that she’d be going along. Fake Smile.
The six block drive to Safeway was nothing short of excruciating as she explained to me that her daughter had the 2007 model of my 2006 car and how it "seems so much bigger...and nicer." Internally, I was praying that if there was a God she would take me then. Get parked at Safeway, get her inside – and pushing the cart – and find everything on the list except for Tetley Teabags, which elicited another snide Yank comment. At this point, I’m ready to leave her there to fend for herself.
We ended up in the checkout line behind a lovely Hispanic woman with cutest little kids. The MiL taught Spanish in the UK for years so she was in heaven just chatting away with this lady. I speak no Spanish so it was a nice break for me. The checker (who Dave long ago christened "The Crown Princess of the Caravan Park") finally started moving the line and when the woman ahead of us was up she started muttering under her breath about "you people need to go back where you came from" and "you people need to learn American" (I kid you not). The woman understood her and was becoming visibly upset which is when I was about to step in – but I was cut off at the pass by the MiL.
"No, I’ll handle this" she said through clenched teeth. In Spanish she told the lady to relax and apparently that I would pay for her groceries (because I ended up doing so) and then turned on the checker like a pit bull.
"To what people are you referring Wilma?" she loudly asked.
"Them illegal Mexicans" was the ever so badly chosen reply.
"Do you know that she’s ‘illegal’ or a Mexican for that matter? Perhaps she’s an American who can speak more than one language. I’m not an American, does that make me illegal or one of ‘those people?" At this point people in the aisles around us are watching and listening – the manager is trying to interrupt, but the MiL is not finished:
"People like you (finger pointing) are what give Americans a bad name. Your racism and intolerance only further the stereotype which has been associated with this part of your nation for too long. Shame on you – you should be fired."
Cue the applause – seriously – from those around us. I paid for our (mine and the Hispanic woman’s) and got the hell out of there. I’ll have to find a new grocery store.