Because it’s all about skid, dontchaknow?

Sundays are interesting. It’s DH’s one and only guaranteed day off. He’s also a cyclist and it’s racing season, so every Sunday he trains anywhere from 2-5 hours in the morning. It’s his gig and I will never be the one to tell him “Hey, maybe you shouldn’t ride today, but instead spend time with skid?” Because he’s a big boy. If he wanted to he would. 

While he’s doing that, I usually go for a run with the kids in the jogger, work in the garden, or whatever (weather permitting). DH on the other hand, often rides in the rain. 

So, last Sunday afternoon was extremely stormy here. Like torrential downpour, fallen trees, wind, etcetera. DH, the kids, and I happened to go out to do our weekly shopping prior to the sky opening up, post his ride and my run. We had no clue it was going to be this bad, as we are always checking the weather forecast. What turned into normally a 2 hour trip turned into almost 5 due to roads flooded, car wrecks and lots of emergency vehicles out, etcetera. 

We finally get home around 7:30 and I notice DH is back and forth texting with skid. The in-laws and skid got out of their second church session of the day, apparently, and were just about to sit down to eat dinner at Cracker Barrel. Skid is wanting to “come over and visit” she tells him.

Meanwhile, I’m scrambling to put the groceries away, feed and put pajamas on our kids, because I do my darndest to stick to an 8pm bedtime for them - and this is literally the ONLY time I get peace and quiet - after they go to bed. I’m also trying to get dinner going for me and DH. Basically, I’m running around like a chicken with my head cut off at this point. DH is too busy texting back and forth with skid to help, he also deems it necessary to ask me if it’s okay with me that the in-laws and skid come over at 8:30-9:00pm. Uh, no DH. I have kids to get in bed that I don’t want getting back out of bed because they hear people here. I also find the idea of having to choke down my food with my in-laws and skid in my house talking about BM, or drunk BIL, or who knows what, extremely unpleasant in a physical sense. Call me crazy, but I like to enjoy my meals. It’s a luxury with a spouse who is hardly ever here and two littles constantly in my personal space. 

I don’t say ANY of this, but I’m definitely thinking it. 

So, I ask him “What do you think?” 

In-laws and skid did not come over, and I’m sure I’m the “bad guy” for shutting it down. Moral of the story: He knows damn well I hate him playing the “Well, let me ask momjeans.” It’s not out of respect, it’s merely him passing on the “My twit parents should know better, and I can never find my spine to shut it down.” I also hate that the in-laws didn’t feel it was necessary to inform skid it was late and that perhaps holding off until the next day would be better - for everyone. No, I’m sure MIL was working her puppeteer hands through skid, knowing it wouldn’t fly with ME.