Friday, August 06, 2004

How good intentions turn into displaced anger on a head of lettuce

Because I love my husband and I enjoy aggravating my ulcer, I decided to throw a surprise birthday party for my hubby.

If party planning isn't bad enough, I'm doing this hush hush and all by myself.

I'm a bit stressed as is and yet I get a call from my pop-in-law to tell me:

1) Did you know that you scheduled it in September? Yes, your son's birthday is in september.

2) Why did you write to rsvp to your email address? Won't hubby read it? No, we have private emails. BTW, pop-in-law is not happy that we have private

3) Is his ex-wife going to be there? I ask if this would change his rsvp and he couldn't give me a yes or no. Damnit, it's your son's birthday. Suck it up.
It's not like you have to sit next her the whole time.

I'm sorry. I'm not a product of a divorced family and maybe that's why I don't understand it but for every family function, I have to walk on eggshells.
One of the reasons we couldn't have a traditional wedding was because neither party on his side wanted to be in the same county as each other.