Quentin, call me

We're going to see the in-laws Friday and it's making me twitchy.

It will be the first time they've seen Bob since his diagnosis and I've ran every overly-dramatic positively-ridiculous would-(pretty)-likely-never-happen scenario thru my head and it's about to explode. I have visions of walking thru their door and his mom running to him screaming My Baby! and collapsing into his arms weeping while he holds her up.

That probably isn't going to happen but I've got the whole screen play in my head regardless.

I'm feeling very territorial and selfish. Hey, I'll admit it. It's not fair and I'm being childish and all that but still. I just don't think I can stand to watch her fawn all over him. He's not dying. He's proven that by, you know, NOT DYING. He's fine. He has great doctors and we're smart and we wash our hands a lot and he's never missed a dose of medicine and on and on and on.

All of which, btw, we've managed without her.

And I understand that the news hurt her too. It's her son. She has every right to be scared and dramatic and want to actually lay eyes on the man so she knows in her heart he's okay. But then again, he was diagnosed more than 10 weeks ago and she hasn't yet bothered to do so. In fact, if we weren't coming to her she still wouldn't have that peace of mind.

Not that I needed her any sooner. Lord knows I didn't want her coming over once we found out. I was in no way prepared to comfort or reassure or wipe the tears of ANYONE else, at all, not even Mom. No no no. So here I sit brashly pointing out that she's sooooooooo worried and frail yet never bothered to send a card or a casserole or actually get in her car to go see her son and that's A-OK with me.

But it still makes me twitch. Their conversations make me twitch. Like are there any special precautions she needs to consider for his visit? Any special needs or otherwise? I half expect her to have a cot in a bubble set up inside her house where Bob will rest while she passes him Dr Pepper and store bought cookies and pats his knee through a gloved port specially fitted for her hand only.


Hey, it's my story, I'll tell it any way I want.


Seriously, he's okay. I know it will be okay. It's not unusual for a trip to the in-laws to make me twitch. I've always felt a bit of a tug between his mom and me, even after all these years. And I'll get all worked up and will be absolutely ready to fling myself into traffic to avoid going and then we'll get there and everything will be okay. I know tomorrow will be no different. Bob has promised to keep it low key. No dramatic coughs or weary sighs. No big productions when he takes his meds or otherwise. Everything will be fine. Everyone will behave and she can take a deep breath and then we'll be off hook again for while. It's got to happen some time. Might as well be now, right?

Yeah. Right. Right.





ps.. to prove I'm not a total bitchy betwitchy daughter in law, I baked cookies. From scratch. So there.