I was going to finish my epic series of blog entries on the MBTI, but I can’t today – it’s my mother-in-law’s fault. God forbid she ever gets her clutches on the address of this site because I’m sure she’d take great sadistic pleasure in knowing that she is one of the few people, possibly the only person on this planet, that strikes fear in my heart – no, it’s not fear – it’s dread. It’s not that I’m scared of what she will do to me – I dread being near the evilness that lies in the pit of her tiny, black heart. I can feel it when I give her the perfunctory hello or goodbye hug that we do because we have to (why?). She has not liked me from the instant we met six years ago (I’m not exaggerating).

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and we have to go to my mother-in-law’s for dinner. My in laws all think I’m weird, and I suspect they think I’ve ruined their son and brother, too. I don’t join in their games of Uno after dinner – they’re way too cutthroat for me. I don’t join in their conversations – I don’t get them – they’re made up mostly of sarcastic jabs in the form of jokes, pointed at each other and people who aren’t there to defend themselves. I once caught myself starting to sink into this very abyss when it was mentioned that my brother-in-law’s ex wife was keeping a chinchilla as a pet. Oddly, I was the only person there who found that little fact titillatingly funny. Again, they think I’m weird.

The partial reason they think I’m weird is that they are all extroverts to the nth degree, and none but my own husband knows that being introverted isn’t the same as being a psychopathic recluse. My mother-in-law’s attitude is that there is something wrong with me. If there wasn’t, I would happily join in to their tribal rituals that all point at “joining” and “being a part of”. That’s the problem. I can’t even make myself do that – even in this case because I can’t see what the benefit would be. I think there are other reasons that I don’t fit into their crowd too (it could be my tattoos I guess).

Bless my hubby’s heart, he allows all of this. He lets them be them and me be me and he doesn’t try to get anyone to change. He knows they won’t and he’s pretty sure I won’t either. So there he is – stuck between his extroverted family who thinks his wife is really weird, and his introverted wife, who thinks his family (mother especially) is backwards. I go to his family functions because he loves them. I put on a smile (the kind you glue on), hug and chat, avoid death-match games of cards, and breathe a huge sigh of relief when we leave. In their defense, they are all hard-working people who would come to a family member or friend’s aid in a nanosecond. They pay their taxes and they keep their homes clean and neat. They are pretty much a fine group of people (by most accounts).

On Friday, my family will be joining us for Thanksgiving a day late. A healthy mix of introverts and extroverts, they are all people I’ve known and loved forever. They know and like me too, and never wonder why the hell I do what I do, don’t do what I don’t do or why I just said what I said. My grandsons will crawl on me – they’re the only people on the planet who are allowed to touch me without question. They will all stay for a few hours and leave well before the welcome is worn.

It will take me all weekend to recover… Happy Thanksgiving.