April 13, 2009

A Family of Superhero’s

On Friday, Mr. BBM and I packed up the car and headed to western PA for Easter weekend. Instead of taking the vehicle equipped with a DVD player and headphones for the girls, we took our Subaru Forester for her very last long ride. We traded her in for a new car on Saturday morning.

Mr. BBM spent days convincing me the drive out and back, without a DVD player, would be "fun." I wasn't buying it and as usual, I was right, as usual-wait, did I say that already? Oh yeah, I did; but it warrants being said again. As usual, I was right.

The drive out consisted of Mr. BBM being ready to self-combust at any moment if the girls even tilted their drink or snack even slightly off a perfectly upright angle. He did this despite the beach towels he had put on the seats for the drive out. Big I decided it was a great opportunity to ask us all kinds of questions, like "Would you rather have ears where your eyebrows are, or a nose where your belly button is?" I should also note that each question was proceeded by a startling, "Daddy" or "Mommy." We swear she used those two words about 2000 times each direction of the four hour drive. She also used "Are we there yet?" enough times to make me volunteer to ride on the roof rack.

We won't even discuss Lil C and her non-stop whining. We just won't because I'd rather not have my head explode all over my lap-top.

We arrived at my father-in-law's home, knowing that they were in the middle of a big kitchen renovation, but people. . . we had no idea. The kitchen contents were in boxes in the family room. The kitchen cabinets were. . . gone. . . completely. Dishes were done in the laundry room sink and clean dishes could only be found on a table in the dining room. I stress "clean" only when the drywall man hadn't been there. Clearly, he does not believe in sealing off areas before sanding.

For cooking, there was a microwave.

You were waiting for a crock pot or electric skillet too, weren't you? Nope, not a one. At some point, Mr. BBM must have threatened to kill someone or himself because a coffee pot was eventually found and plugged in. Because of the state of the kitchen, we had to eat out for every meal, minus breakfast each day, which was microwaved oatmeal (and minus today's fantastic Easter dinner, cooked by my mother-in-law.)

Despite the stress of all of this, we had a great time. My father-in-law recently remarried a lovely lady and two of her adult children were also visiting. It became quite clear that there was some good-natured sibling rivalry between Mr. BBM's new step-sister and her younger brother who even refers to himself as "the glow." "The glow" can do no wrong; food even tastes better when you're in the presence of "the glow." It's really quite an appropriate nickname considering that it was only minutes before Big I was proclaiming her undying love for him. I had to kindly remind her that he's now her uncle, and you know, sort of too old for her. Plus, eight-year olds need to chill on "being in love." Seriously, although I must admit that "the glow" does have a stellar smile. Geez, even from hundreds of miles away, he's still having an effect on me.

What became even funnier than "the glow" and the antics surrounding him was Mr. BBM's stepmother and her patented "look." While we were busy answering Big I's never-ending list of questions on the drive out, my father-in-law was busy talking to his wife's kids about her classic "look" of death. Together they decided that a picture of this "look" should be painted on missiles that wouldn't have to even explode to scare our country's enemies. Seeing "the look" would be enough. They also decided that the problem with illegal immigration could be solved. Simply put "the look" on strategically placed billboards at our borders.

Having never been the recipient of "the look" (I'd only ever seen it from the side until this weekend), I could laugh but not know for sure. However, after my step mother-in-law saw the new mess in her kitchen after drywall sanding while we had been out, and the fact that my father-in-law had used their Dyson and not a shop vacuum to clean it up, I found myself standing between the two of them and caught "the look" straight on. All I really have to say about that is . . . "teach me, oh great giver of 'the look'."

When the weekend was coming to a close and all was said and done, I realized that I'm now part of a family of superhero's. "The glow" charms everyone around him; while "the look" can instantly make you regret ever having been born.

Despite getting a fabulous deal on the new car without them, I can't help but wonder what kinds of amazing things they could have done for us during negotiations, had they been there. After being warmed up by "the glow" and then subjected to "the look," it's entirely possible we would have been given our new car for free.