Friday, August 12, 2005

Hell on Wheels Part I

Think: nails on a blackboard
Think: water dripping in the sink all night long
Think: whiney little kids
Think: MIL

You now have some idea what my week has been like. I will attempt to hit the high points.

Tuesday. We arrive at the racetrack 30 minutes before the sky opens up and we get 4" of rain. We, thank goodness, had gotten the RV set up and were safely inside watching it pour. Drinking. Alcohol. Mass quantities.

Wednesday. I realize I've grabbed my daughter's chocolate-flavored coffee instead of the 100% columbian which is the only thing Hubby will drink. I, not being a coffee drinker, do not suffer. Hubby and MIL go to town to get coffee and the newspaper - with promises of bringing me some breakfast.

They come back sooner than expected and talk me into going 30 miles to the next town for some Perkins breakfast. That turned out to be an experience. We had a magician for a waiter. An honest-to-god magician. He did tricks at the table. He was good. Made for a very interesting breakfast.

Back to the RV, we try to set up things to sit outside. It goes well until the bugs start biting me alive. I sit in the RV with the windows open and talk to the others through the screen. It's fine.

YS and crew show up about noon and get the car set up to go race. This is a qualifying race to get into the 'big' race - on Friday night. Some friends of his camp around us. He brings a couple of them in to look at the RV. They leave.

MIL: Shall we go ask to see their camper?
Me: Go ahead if you want, but I don't need to see it.
MIL: Do you want to go check out the showers?
Me: Go ahead if you want, but I'm okay.
MIL: Are you trying to read your book?

MIL is driving us crazy. She has attention deficiet. We're positive. She fidgets. She picks at stuff. She constantly is picking. Picking up sticks in the camping area. Sweeping the 'fake' grass mat we put down. Sweeping the RV. She. Never. Sits. Still. Not only that. She. Never. Shuts. Up. Gibberish. Hubby said it once - she takes more words to say something than anyone he ever heard.

They go to the race. I breathe a sigh of relief and settle down with my book.

YS qualifies! He comes in 5th out of 73 cars. Yippee!

Hubby comes in late that night fuming. He's been outside the RV trying to talk to YS and the others and MIL keeps a.) standing between him and YS, blocking the eyeline and b.) interrupting for stupid things (should we put these chairs under the RV so they don't get wet?... should we put the tarp up?... should we put more ice in the cooler?) Finally he snapped at her and she went into the RV, pouting. Five minutes later she's back. (I can't get this table down to make up the bed...)

If she's alive by the time we go home, it will be a miracle.

Thursday. It's a parts run. Hubby and I have to go back home to get some parts for the race car and pick up a few groceries (100% columbian). We were evil. Didn't ask MIL to go with. It was a peaceful few hours.

Got back to the track and found it had been raining off and on again, then proceeded to pour after we got back. No races tonight. It was supposed to be a second night of qualifying. YS wouldn't have had to race anyway, but now they are all sitting around under the awning being bored to death. The alcohol isn't even helping.

Some of the racers and crews take off to go to a bar - at 2:30 in the afternoon. (We find out later they didn't come home until 2:30 in the morning!) Hubby mentioned going in the RV to take a nap. I'm in the RV, dozing over my book. He comes in, lays on the couch, and YS comes in. Sits down, leans back - getting nap comfortable. Then YS's girlfriend comes in - I may as well call her DIL2B, as they keep talking marriage. She brings the Huskie pup in with her. A nice pup, but large and one who decided it would be a good idea to jump on Hubby's tummy... OOOF. Not good. Finally, MIL comes in. Talking. Again. Still. Let's put it this way, Hubby didn't get a nap.

We cook some food and watch a movie and go to bed.