God's Gonna Strike Me Down

The following words may never pass my lips again. MIL was actually good this weekend. I'm suspicious. Which one of you talked to her? Which one of you told her to chill? Who spilled the beans that we were tired of all the incessant chatter and the OCD? Who? Someone had to. She wasn't herself. She was... calm. She didn't babble... She was helpful, but stayed out of the way when told to. She was able to 'go with the flow'.

Did it make a difference that we started drinking the minute we got to the track? We'll never know. She even thanked us on the way home for the "opportunity to go". Of course, that made me feel like a worm...

Now I have to start thinking about her nicely. Wow.