I was living at my in-law's place while my husband and I were looking for a home of our own. I would spend the day with my mother-in-law, Rita, watching soap operas and cooking while my husband was at work.
Jim's family was Italian Catholic, so there were many other sisters, brothers and their husbands and wives. The days were full of emotional conversations, to say the least.
One day Rita was complaining to me about the wife of one of her sons. Naturally, Geraldine wasn't good enough for her son and her son wasn't eating right or getting the support he needed from his wife. Since I was living with her, I didn't want to upset Rita so I kept my mouth shut.
Suddenly the phone rang, and after the usual greeting, Rita exclaimed, "Speak of an angel and hear a flutter of wings!" Geraldine was on the line. I couldn't help but note the hypocrisy.
Finally, Jim and I got our own townhouse. It was heavenly to be on our own! I spent a few weeks decorating our home, and tried my best to duplicate Jim's favorite Italian meals. I'm of Irish and German descent, and had no idea how to cook the things Jim grew up with.
One day I was having a struggle with the intricacies of a manicotti recipe.
I decided to call my mother-in-law for some advice. After the usual greetings, she said, "Speak of an angel and hear a flutter of wings!"
Write in any form you desire about: dysfunctional family reunions or just dysfunctional families ourselves included, funny or not so funny.