Ahhh... I remember fondly the first time Butch's mom and two older sisters visited us in Montana. Butch and I had been married less than a year and I'd met his mom just once before for a few minutes. I'd never met his sisters.
I of course wanted to make a good impression on these women in Butch's life, and being somewhat insecure and eager to please, I set about cleaning and cooking and preparing like crazy.
The house we lived in at the time, in Lolo, Montana, was huge, so the work before me was challenging, especially considering Butch's ridiculously high cleaning standards. I mean, he wanted me to actually clean the oven and MOP. Regularly. Who does that?
Anyway, the big day arrived and I nervously greeted these three true Texas wimmins, me smiling like a hyena, leading them to their bedroom so they could put their stuff down. Butch, right behind me, expressed how stuffy the room was and turned the ceiling fan on. We hadn't used this fan in a long time, and as it started to turn, faster and faster, a veritable snowstorm of dust came flying down all around us, collecting in my gaping mouth of horror, making all three girls laugh out loud and Butch tsk in disappointment at my lack of fan blade cleaning skills even though these particular fan blades were 20 feet up in the air. Well, wow. Such a great start! Not embarrassing at all. At least they thought it was funny.
Later that day, Butch's mom decided to sit on the floor in order to more easily pet our Pittie/Boxer mix named Daisy, whereby Daisy stood up and affectionately threw up in Butch's mom's lap, thereby welcoming Grandma heartily and odiferously. Daisy had never done that before nor ever after. To say that I was completely horrified is such an understatement, but it's the best word I can come up with. Mortified, aghast, hoping the earth would open up and swallow me whole, etc... Butch's mom and sisters laughed again, handling this glorious moment beautifully, much to my relief.
I was beginning to really like these ladies.
That night, after no further vomitous ados, we all went to bed. The girls were sleeping in the bedroom next to ours and we were in a spare room with a blowup mattress on the floor. As Butch and I lay down, me in utter exhaustion from the embarrassing day, our 100 pound male Golden Retreiver, Hugh, decided to join us in bed. I was afraid his nails would poke through our mattress, thereby deflating it, leaving us laying on a hard floor all night. Hence, I began to say, "Get off," and Hugh did not. I began pushing Hugh, saying a little louder, "Get OFF." He was immovable and I, in my tiredness, got irritated and yelled, "NO!! GET OFF, GET OFF, GET OFF! Dammit!" Whereby Hugh finally got off the mattress, whereby I collapsed on the bed, sighing, and then I felt bad for Hugh who was pouting with the hurt feelings and said, "Oh, come here you big, hairy brute. Come here and give yo momma some lovins."
Oh no. I frantically whispered, "Buuuutch! I hope your mom and sisters didn't hear that. They'll think I was talking to YOU! OMG. OMG. Should I go in there and explain??"
Butch snored in response, leaving me feeling alone in my horror. Could this day get any worse??!!!
Giggling from the next room, then outright laughing, which made me start laughing... and feeling better.
You know what? These ladies are A-okay. I think I'm gonna like 'em. ;)
