The return of the 'Rent In Law
I am sure many of you have seen the meme going around "Not my circus, Not my monkeys." My catch phrase this week has been, "It IS my circus, and My Monkeys CAN FLY".
I have spent a lifetime of coming to terms with people in my world that I truly love, but I just can't make myself like them. Don't get me wrong, I am well aware that I am also on the receiving end of those sentiments and I can live with that. We are instructed to love our fellow human beings, I am pretty sure it is the premise of all religions. I don't think there is anything about the liking of them.
My week began with the 'Rent-in-law arriving on Monday. The total time he was alone between when my spouse goes to bed for work and I get done with my work day and drive the house to my house was about 2 hours. I walked into my home into the FUMES of booze and to find my 'Rent-in-law so stinking drunk I could hardly understand him. Let me add to this little vignette, the guest in question has been suffering from balance issues under doctor's care for the last year at least. Drunk + Balance Issues of Epic proportions = Inevitable Shit Show.
He did not disappoint.
My initial thought process once I got through the fumes and an awkward as hell hug with drunk man was change out of my work clothes, get dinner going, get the animals taken care of, and get some food into his face PRONTO.
Yeah..... no.
At some point between the running from my house to MY 'Rent's house to get food ready and dogs accommodated, I found him laying face down on my kitchen floor. I believe my words were, "OH MY GOD POP! ARE YOU OK?" then under my breath, "Shit! Shit! Shit!". He mumbled something and crawled over to a chair to pull himself to his feet, I was not allowed to assist him. He stood up and the balance was precarious at best. WE walked over to the sofa and got there face first, so we bend over and put our hands on the cushion and now we have to figure out how to turn around and plant our ass without falling over again. Once seated I informed him I would bring him dinner. He declined, shocking I know. Once that happened I ran over to the 'Rent's house ate dinner with her and cleaned up her kitchen in record time.
I walked back into my living room to find him passed out in a position that had me wondering if he was still alive. This caused me to stand and stare at his chest to see if it was rising before I ran screaming for the phone and my husband for no good reason. He was just passed out.
I determined at some point he had made himself Rum and "Carbonated Caramel Colored Beverage". The bottle he poured the carbonation from was a 20 oz. It was still up to the top of the label and the glass he was drinking from was a Pub PINT glass since that is what we have in our house. He had made himself two of these drinks. Please see previous sentence about carbonated beverage still being above the label.......
I tried desperately to tiptoe past him to get to bed, he woke up. Yay me. I went into the bedroom and told the spouse who was getting ready for work, ALL ABOUT IT. When the spouse went to leave the souse was in bed.
The conversation the following morning uncovered that he grabbed the first bottle of RUM he could find. This would be 151 that we use for A MIXED DRINK ONE SHOT AT A TIME. He had most of a PINT GLASS times TWO of it. He admitted he was a "little" drunk. Seriously?
Apparently after that little display of douchery he must have been hurting because the rest of the visit was not nearly as traumatic as they have been in the past.
I have spent a lifetime of coming to terms with people in my world that I truly love, but I just can't make myself like them. Don't get me wrong, I am well aware that I am also on the receiving end of those sentiments and I can live with that. We are instructed to love our fellow human beings, I am pretty sure it is the premise of all religions. I don't think there is anything about the liking of them.
My week began with the 'Rent-in-law arriving on Monday. The total time he was alone between when my spouse goes to bed for work and I get done with my work day and drive the house to my house was about 2 hours. I walked into my home into the FUMES of booze and to find my 'Rent-in-law so stinking drunk I could hardly understand him. Let me add to this little vignette, the guest in question has been suffering from balance issues under doctor's care for the last year at least. Drunk + Balance Issues of Epic proportions = Inevitable Shit Show.
He did not disappoint.
My initial thought process once I got through the fumes and an awkward as hell hug with drunk man was change out of my work clothes, get dinner going, get the animals taken care of, and get some food into his face PRONTO.
Yeah..... no.
At some point between the running from my house to MY 'Rent's house to get food ready and dogs accommodated, I found him laying face down on my kitchen floor. I believe my words were, "OH MY GOD POP! ARE YOU OK?" then under my breath, "Shit! Shit! Shit!". He mumbled something and crawled over to a chair to pull himself to his feet, I was not allowed to assist him. He stood up and the balance was precarious at best. WE walked over to the sofa and got there face first, so we bend over and put our hands on the cushion and now we have to figure out how to turn around and plant our ass without falling over again. Once seated I informed him I would bring him dinner. He declined, shocking I know. Once that happened I ran over to the 'Rent's house ate dinner with her and cleaned up her kitchen in record time.
I walked back into my living room to find him passed out in a position that had me wondering if he was still alive. This caused me to stand and stare at his chest to see if it was rising before I ran screaming for the phone and my husband for no good reason. He was just passed out.
I determined at some point he had made himself Rum and "Carbonated Caramel Colored Beverage". The bottle he poured the carbonation from was a 20 oz. It was still up to the top of the label and the glass he was drinking from was a Pub PINT glass since that is what we have in our house. He had made himself two of these drinks. Please see previous sentence about carbonated beverage still being above the label.......
I tried desperately to tiptoe past him to get to bed, he woke up. Yay me. I went into the bedroom and told the spouse who was getting ready for work, ALL ABOUT IT. When the spouse went to leave the souse was in bed.
The conversation the following morning uncovered that he grabbed the first bottle of RUM he could find. This would be 151 that we use for A MIXED DRINK ONE SHOT AT A TIME. He had most of a PINT GLASS times TWO of it. He admitted he was a "little" drunk. Seriously?
Apparently after that little display of douchery he must have been hurting because the rest of the visit was not nearly as traumatic as they have been in the past.
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