Dr. Julia : Overreacting

Julia was on the phone with her sister and she said to me, "DO YOU KNOW A SARAH?" [cue look of pure disgust]

Me : ... Yes. [confused]

Julia : SHE SAID HOWARD PASSED AWAY. [to her sister on the phone] YEAH I'M GONNA CUSS THAT BITCH OUT. [more cussing]

Me : ... [shocked/disgusted face at her language towards one of my very closest friends]

So she calls Travis's brother, saying "NO you're father's alright." (Because he called, worried.)

Then she calls Travis saying, "WHY DID SHE SAY HOWARD DIED? [pause] Oh. [pause] WELL SHE SHOULDN'T BELIEVE THINGS OTHER PEOPLE TELL HER."

Apparently someone told my friend Sarah that my father-in-law had passed away and she went to Travis to express her empathy.

It was a simple misunderstanding - I have no idea who told Sarah my father-in-law had died - but Julia completely pissed me the Hell off by calling my friend a "bitch" for saying to Travis "I'm sorry your Dad died."

Whore.

Dr. Julia : Perspective

Julia's Perspective:

What the rest of us see:

Dr. Julia : Everything is her business

99.99 percent of fights that start between my husband and his mother start with Julia sticking her nose in where it doesn't belong.

Let's go over a typical argument, shall we?

It starts like this: Emily is doing something. This morning, Emily was acting up so we turned off cartoons and switched on another program. Obviously, Emily was upset about this so she was told to sit down on the couch (a time out of sorts).

But then... Julia butts in. She was on the phone and, from the other room, she hollers "Turn on cartoons for your daughter! She wants to watch cartoons!"

Well... We don't change the channel. Travis says something along the lines of, "She needs a break from cartoons."

So Julia retorts with: "You're so mean! Turn on the damn cartoons! Brat!"

Travis : "Mom, just stop it."

Julia : [in rage mode] "Don't talk back to me! This is my fuckin' house! Turn on the damn cartoons! You're so mean! God, Travis, don't be such a smart ass!"

----------------------------------------------

She is always always ALWAYS sticking her nose in our business with Emily. No matter what it is, she has to give her opinion - forcefully.

According to Julia... We're mean when we don't let Emily watch cartoons whenever she wants. We're mean when we don't let Emily drink as much juice as she wants. We're mean when we don't let Emily have candy whenever she wants.

I'm not kidding!

I limit Emily's juice intake because if she could, she would drink herself to death. (The girl loves juice!) So after a while, I say "Okay Emily, if you're thirsty you can drink water." (Or milk.) And sometimes she does, sometimes she doesn't. AND I don't give her anything to drink about thirty minutes before I put her down for bed so she doesn't pee in the middle of the night.

Julia ALWAYS gets pissy when I tell Emily she can't have juice - "God! Give the girl some juice! She's thirsty!"

Me : "If she's thirsty, she'll drink water."

Julia : "But she wants JUICE! God, it's just juice!"

And then later I hear her on the phone with her brother/sister/husband complaining about what awful parents we are for not giving our child juice.


----------------------------------------------

Dr. Julia : Cleaning

"Bathroom looks like shit! I'm not letting the baby sit on that toilet seat 'til it's cleaned! She's gonna catch something. Germs 'n shit."

This is what I wake up to everyday. (Hey Mom! If you're reading this, can I pleeeeease move back in?)

Now she's yelling from upstairs. I don't know what she's saying. Something about cleaning.

Anyways, where was I? Ah, yes. Julia being crazy. She wants us to clean the bathroom (i.e. toilet/shower/sink/floor) on a daily basis. I'm sorry but I'm not scrubbing the toilet every day. It gets cleaned, don't get me wrong, but I refuse to scrub it every day. We've been keeping it tidy - picking up clothes, towels, etc - but I'll be damned if I'm going to use cleanser daily.

What, is my toilet supposed to shine like it's straight from God himself?

It's clean! There's no pee or anything on it. I checked.

And the mirror doesn't have spit or gunk on it. The sink is toothpaste-free.

Seriously! I went and checked after she hollered at us! It's CLEAN.

Oh wait, here's something. I left a piece of toilet paper on the floor. It's like this big:
[-------------]

See that? Right there, between the brackets. The paper fit inside that little space.

I'm not scrubbin' the damn toilet. And what the hell is Emily going to catch from the toilet? This isn't a public restroom that dozens of people use. Only three people ever use it, according to my in-laws. Because apparently Julia is above using that toilet.

No MS Paint today, sorry. I can't draw a toilet.

Oh alright. Here's something: