Hm. Yesterday was...strange.
Up. Family is coming over, so race around getting the major things cleaned/straightened. TDNWMH, as I am generally averse to being productive in the mornings on the weekend. Shower, etc.,
Manage to make it to the restaurant early! ...only to discove that my parents have already been waiting for 15 minutes. *facepalm* I hate this. This is how I've got a reputation for being the late one in the family. OK, yes, I do run late plenty of times. 15 minutes--I could set my watch by it. But left to my own devices I'm also on time just about as often. My family, however, is the type to show up 30 minutes before the appointed time, start getting worried and antsy if everyone isn't there 15 minutes ahead of the appointed time, and be annoyed and ticked off if everyone isn't there 10 minutes ahead of the appointed time. If you turn up, like we did 5 minutes early...they're just already annoyed. Sigh.
There's a 45 minute wait at the restaurant. Sigh. I suggest that we can walk around and see if there is somewhere else with a shorter wait. No, they're fine. And then they get antsy and more and more annoyed waiting. I suggest, again, seeing if there is somewhere else. No, they'll wait...annoyedly. Sigh. What-friggin'-ever.
We get sat. Ordering, chatting, etc. Food arrives...dad doesn't like his. Sends it back. Won't order another, or something else. He'll just have toast. At this point...fine...I just don't care. He's a grown man and if he wants to have nothing but toast for brunch, that's his damn choice. Grumbling about how long it takes for the toast to arrive. (Dude. Did you notice the 45 minute wait, the small-yet-packed dining room, or the fact that even the hostess is doing tripble-dute as a busser and server? Chill the eff out.)
DH and I treat, FWIW at this point. Decision made: we are no longer taking family out to brunch. It never seems to go well. In fact, I'm about ready to put the kaibosh on taking family out at all, unless it's their choice, because no one is ever satisfied. The parental units, in particular, have become absolute nightmares; they're turning into crotchety, complainy-pants old people.
Walk around Frederick for a bit. There's cute shops and stuff. This is like herding cats: parents will duck into a store for about 2 mintues and then be ready to go, brother/SIL/I like to browse a bit longer, DH takes for-bloody-ever. This leads to mom and dad getting annoyed and impatient and, since they insist on standing outside in the cold while waiting impatiently, then being cold and complaining about it. Meanwhile, DH is getting annoyed at me asking him if he's ready to move on because everyone else is leaving, or, if he's not, we'll be in the next shop down.
Sigh.
After wandering for 45 minutes, family decides they're heading home. WTeff? They drove an hour each way, and they're heading back after 2 hours and 45 minutes? Seriously? Fine, whatever. Don't bother to come over or anything. Don't bother to visit without complaining. Have a safe drive home.
DH and I are kind of stunned at the recent developments. This is not what we'd expected out of the day. Use the time to go grocery shopping.
Home...piddle. We're not really sure what to do with ourselves, since things did not go as planned. I nap, he piddles.
Laundry, piddling, etc. Bed, Z.
