Saturday, January 9, 2010

In which we are toasted

September 2008 Our wedding supper. Only immediate family and Primo's Lutheran pastor. The priest couldn't make it. He's a popular guy. Other weddings to do. My mom, my brother and sister. Doris and Sly, Ted. Primo's stepdaughters, Claudia and Chloe. Pastor G. That's it. Small group at a nice restaurant. We have brought our own wine. Not that that matters to this story. But Primo is a wine snob and we have over 300 bottles of wine in the basement, so why wouldn't we?

If Primo were standing over my shoulder as I write this, he would be urging me to write what kind of wine it was. I don't remember. I don't really like wine that much. Yes. I know. How can I be such a philistine? No, I don't know why he married me. Neither do his parents.

My brother and sister both give toasts in which they extol Primo's virtues. Say how happy they are that he has joined our family. Joke that I am not worthy of how wonderful Primo is.

Sly stands. Raises his glass. Talks about how wonderful Primo is.

Yeah. I know that.

Says he hopes Primo will be as happy in his second marriage as Sly is in his.

Ooops. I don't think that Sly and Doris are particularly happy. They fight. A lot. Doris has called Primo from inside a locked bathroom before. I have seen Sly make Doris cry. I have heard the name calling. I do not wish this for my own marriage.

Sly continues. In his entire toast, he never says my name once.


  1. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

  2. He never mentioned your name in the toast because he could not bring himself to say anything nice about you. In his strange, parallel universe, he was being polite.

  3. Okay, I am three posts into this blog and laughing with tears of sympathy rolling down my cheeks. Is it possible our husbands were related? Probably not, but I bet we could go one-to-one for worst-in-law-in-world stories!

    I am convinced that my MIL hated me because, since I am practically perfect in every way, there was nothing she could complain about.

    1. I promise I am not blogstalking you! I just happen to be online doing some other things and your comments popped up! I visited your blog under my other blog name, BTW.

      Here's a worst in-law story from a college friend: Her FIL got cancer. MIL announced she was divorcing him and told son (husband) that his father was his responsibility now. It took the FIL three years to die. He left a nice trust for the grandkids - enough to pay for their college and then some.

      That's when MIL sued her son, my friend's husband, to get the money from the trust. My friend is a lawyer. So she had the last laugh.

    2. Go ahead and stalk away! I figured that was you, when I followed your name to your other blog.

      When we married, my husband forgot to change the beneficiary on his retirement account at a previous job. So when he died his parents got the money -- and KEPT it, rather than even doing something as decent as putting it in trust for his sons.

      Money makes people sick and crazy.

    3. Your husband's parents are evil. That is so so wrong.

      I might have to work this information into my novel somehow.

  4. Jesus, (no offence Primo) but I would have had to have my cutlery taken away from me. At least your in-laws showed up. Mine refused - thus guaranteeing that it one of the happiest days of my life.

    1. You lucky duck. I wish Sly and Doris had stuck to their guns.