I can’t even finish writing this. I have to keep deleting it and coming back. I can’t say any of these things to my husband because they are about his mother. She’s nice enough, though she seems to have issues with doing what everyone else around her is doing. If she is with someone who uses the n-word, she will happily use it. Then she’ll turn right around and smile in a black person’s face. She just falls in line with the people around her.
They also have a lot of money so she sides with rich people on stuff. My MIL and her husband aren’t even that rich. They live in big houses and drive nice cars, but I feel like they live beyond their means because she actually cares what other people think about them.
What really bothers me is her cooking. She is the worst cook on earth. She makes terrible food over and over again. Same recipes. It’s not like she tried something new and it flopped. She has her special wrong way of doing things and that is just fine with her. One time her turkey was deadass bland and she bragged about it the whole time. The stuffing. The f**king stuffing. OMG, the stuffing. Imagine someone cutting up a stalk of celery, getting out the chicken broth and cornmeal, dumping it all in a pan, and cooking it for two days in the fridge. Yes, the f**king fridge. She shouldn’t have cooked it, and I couldn’t spit it out. I had to swallow it. It was dripping wet with cornmeal and chunks of uncooked celery.
I thought maybe things would get better as we all got older, but her cooking continues to be the main reason I can’t stand being around her. How can you be so confident in your cooking, so blatantly over the top blind, that you can’t see how bad it is? The ham was good because she bought it. I ate nothing but ham that first day. Nothing. There was a salad. I should have eaten it but I didn’t. It’s just so incredible that she brags on her own food. She is the white lady that black people make fun of. It’s her. All those jokes are about her.
image: Franck Michel