I don't know what's wrong with my inlaws but they seem to get off on torturing me.
Steve, Ruby and I went out for dinner to the Keg on Thursday night to celebrate Steve's birthday. We were joined by Steve's brother and girlfriend. They arrived in a cloud of tension, apparently they were cocktailing the night before and were hungover. They were also apparently fighting with each other and not in the most festive of moods.
If Steve and I had our way we would have been at the restaurant at 5pm as to avoid being at the restaurant at the witching hour - Ruby's bedtime (6:30pm - 7pm). Unfortunately BIL and SIL couldn't get there until going on 6pm. And then of course then there was the extensive examination of the menu, and sending the waitress away a few times because we "aren't ready to order yet". My dinner arrived at about 6:30pm just when Ruby had eaten all her raisins and goldfish crackers, had played long enough with the provided crayons and was pretty much fed up with sitting in the highchair. She was fussing and the feeling that I'd had all night that my parenting and her behavior were under a huge microscope ("she just threw a cracker! Pick it up, we're not the only one's in the restaurant you know! She just put a crayon in her mouth! OMG stop her from doing that!!! She is still saying "that" all the time??") increased exponentially. I tried to scarf down what I could of my meal before having to take her and walk around the restaurant to keep her happy. I got some "looks" from BIL and SIL. They were clearly embarrassed of us - even though nobody else in the restaurant even noticed us.
Yes, they are older than us, have loads of money and no kids.
I noticed them looking over my shoulder when I was paying my bill to see if I left a big enough tip (I always leave a bigger tip when I have Ruby with me).
They were also all over us again about what we're naming the baby. They seem obsessed with it. Remember what happened last time? I wanted to keep Ruby's name a secret until she was born and they found out what it was and totally upset me? And they're on about it again! I would have thought they would leave it alone. We keep telling them we're not sure yet, but they don't let up. I wish they'd let up. Why would we tell them if we're not telling anyone else??
But the "best" part? Was when SIL started asking about me going to the gym and somehow it came up that I had to start wearing Steve's t-shirts to the gym because my t-shirts are getting too tight around the belly. (Why do I set myself up like that?).
BIL looks me over and says, "I'm surprised even his shirts fit you."
Steve is 6"3 and 220lbs. He wears mens XL shirts.
Like my self esteem was just soaring so high that I needed it knocked down a little.
It wasn't the enjoyable night out that Steve and I had hoped for and deserved. We were both stressed and frazzled by the time we got home.
My feelings of needing/wanting to hibernate and be completely anti-social until the baby is born (and possibly beyond) has been re-affirmed.