If I was a mail-order bride we'd be homeless.

We’ve finally moved out of our old apartment fully. The first apartment where we lived together, planned a wedding, and have been hanging out in marital bliss. It’s weird to have left so unceremoniously on Sunday night. I sort of just wanted to look at it all empty and say an uncharacteristic sentimental goodbye to the place but The Husband had his hands full of our stuff and so I closed the door only to be back again 5 minutes later after we noticed, while pulling away in the car, that we left the hall light on.

Now we’re living with my mother in law. Most people I know want to hear horror stories of dealing with her because, let’s face it, people who don’t do things the same way you do are usually really annoying. What I find amazing with most Daughter-in-law/mother-in-law relationships is that the husband the wife has chose to marry is the older woman’s son so she can’t be that bad. Unless you are a mail-order bride. Then let the battle of the possessive, crazed ladies should commence because one of those women raised a shit-head and the other was forced to marry him. Someone is at fault and I think a full-on cat fight is in order.

But since the man I married is incredible, his mother can only be pretty incredible too. Sure, she taught him that there is only ONE WAY to put the silverware into the dishwasher and any other way will result in, at the least, a small scale explosion, but more likely something on par with the bombing of Hiroshima, but I think that much attention to detail is a reassurance that he will never put a baby in the trash and a dirty diaper back in a crib.

Having her take us in for this week is a really generous thing, mother or not. Living with someone who has a different philosophy on life might be annoying for me, but she has let those differences come into her house to annoy her. If that’s not saintly, I don’t know what is.

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Liz in Dublin