Fight Club

I am at work today and grateful for the solitude my cubicle brings me, especially after this weekend. No, no one died, was maimed, or hurt in any way...well, on the outside that is. However, this weekend did bring on a little pre-PMSing in the form of a SIL fight.

Let me give you a bit of background. My SIL (who reads this blog, love you and thanks for giving me some juicy stuff to blog about) and I could not be more different. In fact, we are on opposite ends of the personality spectrum. She is a tell it like it is kind of girl and I am more of the passive agressive closet biotch. When the two collide in a bad moment, World War III begins.

It began as a normal Saturday night. My niece, Tori, was planning on coming over to visit with Chadee. That had been the plan and I was cool with it because Tori and Chadee entertain one another and they are BFF. Well, around 8:30 pm, Tori still wasn't at our house and I like for Chadee to be in bed by at least 11:30 on the nights she is with us. I am hip that way. My SIL calls my hubby and since we are in the same room, I am getting his end of the conversation, which basically goes "so Tori's going with Mimi? She's not coming?" and then he hands the phone to me. In the meantime, my step-daughter's face crumples and she goes into emotional breakdown mode. LOVELY. I am not so good with comforting people, especially kids who have a tendency to REALLY FREAK OUT. So I get the phone and am already on the defensive - crying 9 year old, irritable looking hubby.

"Does Tori not want to hang out with Chadee," I asked.

"She's going to the movies with Mimi. She's pitching a fit about it and Mimi promised her. Why, is Chadee upset?"

"Uhhh, yeah. She's over here crying," I said shortly.

"Well, I CAN'T MAKE EVERYONE HAPPY!"

My fuse, which is normally longer than average, blew at that moment. "Don't get a freakin' attiude with me!"

And with that, my SIL hung up on me.

I threw the phone at my hubby, because, you know, it was his fault, and I went on a tirade about the whole thing. Needless to say, I didn't hear from SIL for the rest of the night.

Sunday morning began with the fight still in, well, fight mode. I was determined to get an apologize or I was "NOT going to her wedding and I WOULD be taking the **$#@ bridesmaid's dress back!" My poor hubby was trying frantically to fix the situation, but to no avail.

At 2:30, my SIL called the house and asked to speak to me. She told me she was sorry for hanging up on me. I laughed and told her I forgave her. Then we all went to Outback for "make up steaks."

And that's the end.