Thankfully, it wasn't so bad at The Barbara's yesterday. She and I both maintained distance away from one another, so I escaped a lot of her wrath. The poor hack that sent her a wedding invitation whose inner envelope said "Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Spiehler" instead of "Mr. and Mrs. Spiehler" wasn't so lucky though. After all, doesn't ANYONE know how to address a wedding invitation anymore? Several of Drew's old classmates had better never cross her path either. One time, 15 years ago, a girl had the audacity to run in their house (it's as big as Delaware, so if you want to get anywhere in the house within the hour, you kinda have to run), and The Barbara's still mad at the actions of, and I quote, "that little bitch." Yikes.
I didn't completely escape judgement though... I made the mistake of telling Drew that it was his turn in a joking, sing-song manner when Ace dropped a nuclear bomb in his pants. That started the head a-shakin' and the nose a-sniffin', and I was asked, "What do you do when Drew's at work, huh?" Why, I let him marinate, of course. I gave birth to him, I'm not going to change his diaper, for heaven's sake. "It's just a game we play, Barbara."
She definitely liked Ace, thank goodness. She wanted to hold him right away, and kept asking questions about him. She seemed genuinely happy to see him and fed him for a few minutes. I was really happy that Ace got some grandma love. She seems in good health other than the arthritis and back pain befitting a 71-year-old woman.
Today is the family picnic for all of Drew's classmates, and then the reunion is tonight. Y'all wish me luck in keeping people and their darn dirty germy hands and faces away from my kid.
23 hours ago