I am flat-out rendered tonight. I have been cleaning every single surface in my house with a madness that indicates urgency, if not methamphetamine addiction. No, I haven't turned our crack house into a crack home, but something major is afoot: my in-laws will be here tomorrow for a week-long visit.
This isn't the dire news it used to be. I used to beg to get sent away on work assignments when they'd come visit before Matt and I were legally wed. Since we were living in sin, it seemed I was to be treated as a sinner. (Matt was innocent, merely led astray by my Jezebel-like ways.)
But then Reverend Van Dunston (of the Special Memory Wedding Chapel, Las Vegas) made an honest woman out of me and my treatment by Matt's parents got better. His mother and I discovered a few commonalities that allow us to have civilized conversations. His father continues to politely ignore me, but in a much more friendly fashion.
Still, I cannot have this house anything but spit and polish. Matt says I should just calm down and that they won't notice. That may well be, but I'll be thinking, "Will this be the trip where they mention that they've been performing the white glove test on my mantle and shelves?"
Stay tuned for more updates...