Crazy (But That's How It Goes)

I'm giving out a prize to anyone who can think of the most creative, least painful way to avoid Thanksgiving with my in-laws. This morning I was figuring out the logistics of giving myself a compound fracture in my radius late Wednesday night, there by making it impossible to go anywhere but the hospital for turkey. Extreme? Not really.

Sunday we had them over for dinner, and it started off fine. The house was spotless, dinner was coming along ok, and there were no major hangups of any sort (oh, I dumped the pie out of it's tin fresh out of the oven, all over the counter, so I scooped it up and we called it "pie-ish").

Then we started talking about the wedding. (If this was a cartoon, you'd insert "Dun-dun-dunnnnnnnnnnn!" right here).

Short version: they screamed, I screamed, Rob tried to calm us all down, I accused them of being manipulative, his mom brought up something offensive I did to her, but refused to explain it any further than "you know what you did!" (I still have no clue), Rob cried, his mother locked herself in the bathroom to cry, and his dad said he wouldn't come to any sort of wedding we would have.

I thought I was the one with the dysfunctional family! MOM! WE'RE THE NORMAL ONES!

I just... don't even know.