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This is a question Take my Mother-in-law...

There's a reason there are so many bad jokes about mothers-in-law. You don't choose them, they just come along as emotional baggage with your object of affection. I'm lucky, my m-i-l is lovely*, but don't let that put you off telling us how mad your in-laws really are.

*No, really

(, Thu 8 Sep 2005, 9:48)
Pages: Popular, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

I wish she was mine!!!
I'm not allowed to have a mother-in-law on account of me being 'an horrific bender(tm)' so instead I can only tell you about my brother's.

The first time myself and our entire family met her was in the usual time honoured tradition of a drinking binge in the sunshine or their garden. After a lovely meal she had cooked we all let the alcohol take control and allowed our real personalities to shine through. With us being Northerners and them being Southerners, for my part, this mostly consisted of me doing a brilliantly accurate (and therefore terrible sounding) Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins style cock-er-ney accent. Okay I basically spent about three hours shouting 'ELLOOOOOOO MARYYYYYYYYY' at the top of my lungs whenever there was more than two seconds of silence. They actually smiled. Slightly. The first time. I also thought it would be hilarious to call my brother's prospective MIL 'my new mummy' at every available opportunity. Far from putting the shits up her, she actually seemed flattered by this.

So a few drinks later and the conversation is still going strong. Now, my parents are very straight laced. They were both virgins on their wedding night and have never tried anything stronger than lemsip. The MIL however, is a different kind of person. She decides now is the time to regale us with the following story...

She was twenty odd and living in funky 70's London when a man comes to her door. He's "sex on legs" with a mane of hair that reaches his waist and trying to flog a picture he's painted. The MIL says "he looked like a god, his painting was alright too" so she invites him in and tells him so, but also that she can't afford it. Without speaking this man simply produces "a massive spliff".

At this point my parents tense slightly.

Heavily under the influence (both in flashback and current time) the MIL informs us that, still without a word being spoken, they spontaneously start having sex. She goes into great detail telling us all how fantastic it was and then, with the caveat "I'm presuming it was because I was so high but I'm not totally sure" that during the deed they were actually floating several feet above the floor. I'm trying not to laugh and my parents are now openly exchanging glances. Seeming to sense this the MIL decides maybe she should end the story quickly and does so with the following phrase that will live with me forever.

"And then he turned into a fox and ran away."

She said this with such seriousness that I choked on my beer and fell onto the floor, spasming between laughing my arse off and trying not to die. The result? My parents in a shocking departure from their usual selves think she's brilliant. I of course love 'my new mummy' and think she's as mad as a box of frogs. Brill.
(, Sat 10 Sep 2005, 9:15, Reply)
Mother in law alone.
The cat was pretty much bald. There was only a small rectangular area, approximately an inch square on the upper right hind leg, that I had not yet shaved. As I looked upon it, razor in hand, I could not help a proud, satisfied smile from stretching across my face. This could possibly be the baldest yet, and my greatest achievement so far. I held the cat down firmly but comfortably with my left hand as I positioned the razor with my right, poised to take away the last sprouts of blue-grey fur. A hasty knock at the front door interrupted the final stage of my daily cat-shaving routine and my concentration was broken. I unhanded the cat. It stayed in position.

I rose to my feet and crossed the cluttered living room floor, taking care not to step on the many adult magazines and pregnancy publications that lay strewn across the threadbare carpet. Disgruntled and itchy, I opened the front door. There she was, my mother-in-law, Carol, clad entirely in black, just as she had been every day since my marriage to her daughter who had choked to death on a stray piece of confetti as we were leaving the registry office. I saw Carol maybe three times a year. She looked up at me with her sad, green eyes. The sense of suffering was almost palpable.
"I need it," she begged.
"Now is neither the time nor the place!" I announced defiantly.
"Forsooth!" she persisted. "Shalt thou not lend me thine shoulder that I may inhale thy sickly scent?"
I knew what she wanted. Even though her daughter's ashes had been scattered liberally around the Disney Store in Manchester's Arndale Centre almost three years previously, Carol still maintained that she could smell her on me.
"Carol," I pleaded. "Thou art mother in law and in law alone. Not in heart, nor mind, nor breast. Not in blood, nor milk, nor in the eyes of the Lord."
Carol would not be told. "But sire, I implore ye! Thou art my son in law and in deed, in memory and in soul. My need to smell the floral tones of my daughter's loins from the nape of thine waxy neck is volcanic in its magnitude and brutal in its dogged determination. I awake under moonlight, bile gargling like cold tea in the well of my parched throat. I retch in the darkness. I look down and my knees are like ruddy ears, laughing at my plight. My toes are in knots that shall take weeks to untangle. My shins hum with static, barking at one another. The sound is unbearable. My breasts kick angrily downwards at my thighs, while in between, my sweet vagina weeps..."

Carol went on like this for a while. When she had finished I couldn't think of an adequate retort so I yielded to her demands and invited her in. I sat playing Emlyn Hughes International Soccer on my Sinclair ZX Spectrum +3 for a couple of hours while she sniffed at my neck. "This should keep her going for a few more months," I thought to myself.
(, Tue 13 Sep 2005, 11:43, Reply)
Best MIL ever
My MIL has proved her greatness over the many years I've known her (16, but only an month as an actual MIL). Including:

1) On our first meeting, organising a van, a driver and moving house for me simply because I was a friend of her daughters and needed help, despite me bieng long haired, drugged up scruffy student and my stuff comprising of one bag of clothes, 7 boxes of hi-fi equipment 200+ bottles of homebrew, a keep left sign and the back seats out of a cortina cunningly fashoned into a sofa.

2) Disliking Mrs DeusExM's (then) husband to such an extent she started encouraging her daughter to have an affair with me.

3) Providing an array of resources to carry on said affair including babysitting, transport, the use of her house and countless alibis.

4) Drinking a litre of gin with me when I couldnt go out with my mates for my birthday once.

5) Cooking me massive pies at almost ever possible opertunity.

Bestest MIL ever. 100% Fact.
(, Fri 9 Sep 2005, 14:59, Reply)
So my wonderful Polish mother in law is cooking us dinner
and as Im sitting there, knife and fork clutched in my hands like Fred Flintstone waiting for his steakosaurus, the MIL decides to strike up a convo in fragmented english.

Eyes looking up like she's trying to read the words off the inside of her skull, she stumbles out with "Ania is so much calm now you are fucking her, yes?"
(, Tue 13 Sep 2005, 17:38, Reply)
I don't think my mother-in-law has really liked me that much. Perhaps our first meeting might have had something to do with it...

Greeted with a peck on the cheek by my future wife, I am ushered into the living room where my ears are assaulted by what can only be described as the worst kind of middle-of-the-road music, the kind I utterly despise.

"Christ on a bike, what's this crap?"

"Alexander O'Neil. It's my mother's favourite."

"Jeeez - so where is the tone-deaf old trout anyway?"

"Behind you."

(, Thu 8 Sep 2005, 17:49, Reply)
My Mother-In-Law
has a Borderline Personality Disorder. Strictly that doesn't make her mad, under existing Mental Health Law, but it certainly makes her a RIGHT CUNT.

Glad I got that off my chest...
(, Thu 8 Sep 2005, 12:17, Reply)
MIL - mad as a box of frogs
My MIL is lovely, but a bit obsessed in the cleaning stakes. She cleans her skirting boards with a toothbrush, believes you can't clean a kitchen in less than five and a half hours and owns three hoovers - one for upstairs, one for downstairs and one for outside.

Yes - outside.

In the winter, those pesky birds drop seeds and nuts from the bird feeder everywhere. The solution? Hoover the lawn.

Oh yes.

Mad as a goose on stilts.
(, Fri 9 Sep 2005, 19:09, Reply)
Take my mother-in-law.....please.....
After the somewhat traumatic birth of our first child, I went outside the hospital for a well needed cigarette and to ring everyone and tell them the news that I wouldn't be sleeping for the next five years or so.... On ringing my mother-in-law, I was informed by her partner that she was already on her way to our house.....a fact that nobody else seemed aware of, least of all me.....
When I finally left the hospital later that night, I arrived home to find her sitting next door with the neighbours drinking tea. WTF???

She then proceeded to spend the next five days expecting to be waited on hand and foot, whilst I was back and to the maternity ward trying to prepare for the arrival home of our little bundle of joy. I took her into the hospital the following morning to introduce her to her my first born, where she was greeted by my better half saying "Hello mother, hasn't your son-in-law given you a lovely grand-daughter...?" To which she replied the now immortal line "Well Helen, there is always the sperm-bank, you know...."

How we chortled as I laughingly felled her with a forearm smash..... (warning: this last sentence may contain traces of untruth)

To make matters worse, on the day they were due home from the hospital, she very kindly(!) stayed at home to prepare the house for the impending arrival. At the time we had a very old, and very infirm cat, who could no longer negotiate the cat flap, and had to have a litter tray. We arrived home - the proud parents and the beautiful baby - to be greeted by a smell second only to some of last week's QOTW answers, because the cat had be-fouled itself, and the mother-in-law felt she was above such menial tasks as emptying a litter tray. The following row was a joy to behold, as my wife - bless her - basically and somewhat succinctly pointed out to her mother that it might be best for all concerned if she re-mounted her broomstick and fuck off into the sunset, which , I am delighted to report, she did......

Now who said there was no such thing as a happy ending?
(, Thu 8 Sep 2005, 10:20, Reply)
My father-in-law of fifteen years has been a widower for the last quarter-century or so
He has never seemed interested in becoming more than friends with other women since his wife died and we thought this a loving and considerate position for him to take. Last Christmas I bought him an iBook and broadband so that he could videoconference with us and perhaps browse for rare books and music. Recently he asked me to tidy the machine up a bit as old people sometimes need. He had left his mail application running and I could not help myself noticing that he had been buying a very great deal of unusual items from ebay and elsewhere - lots of gay porn and sexual paraphernalia (rubber arse-less pants, butt-plugs etc). Telling my wife of my findings was...interesting, since then we have spotted so many smaller signs that he has chosen to 'branch-out' since being on his own that I'm more surprised we hadn't noticed earlier. We have never discussed this with him but I do call him my bender-in-law in private.
(, Sat 10 Sep 2005, 10:59, Reply)
last laugh
My ex mother in law was hell - too late to mention her faults now. Before she died she had two young woman living in her flat looking after her - the day and night shift.

She died late on a Sunday afternoon, a time when it is just about impossible to get a even a private doctor, to come out to see someone; worse, NHS practices refuse to certify unregistered deceased people at the weekend; the funeral directors wouldn't take her body away without a death certificate; and her resident carers didn't want to spend the night with the body in the flat.

There was no other choice, being a kind person and doctor myself I had the glorious experience of certifying my mother-in-law dead.

Woo yay - a long time coming but too late to save the marriage
(, Sat 10 Sep 2005, 1:30, Reply)
My girlfriend's mom always votes on reality TV show.
She decides which singer/housemate/celebrity she likes best, then rings up and votes for them.

Then she feels guilty and votes for everyone else.
(, Fri 9 Sep 2005, 13:14, Reply)
She's ok, I guess
My MIL is very nice in general, but from another planet. She's done things like: offer me her g-grandmother's honking bigass diamond for an engagement ring "except if you divorce, I want it back, you can't just run off with it." Uh, ok.

-On our wedding night hubby's brothers, sisters and mum came to the house, asked me to make them something to eat (I made toasted cheese sandwiches with an apron tied over my wedding dress. They didn't even give me time to change.) and then stayed well past 11pm. I was hiding from them in the living room, sobbing "Can't you tell them to go home?" I found out later that since we had co-habited for 4 years, 'the wedding night didn't matter anyway'.

-Next day, she let my very young nieces and nephews rip open my wedding presents "because you know, it's so fun for them and you don't mind, do you?" No, they're just the only wedding presents I'll ever have. She had already gathered up presents and the cards tucked under the ribbons SEPARATELY meaning I had about 75 mystery presents with no idea of who had given what. Took me 6 months of fishing calls to sort it all out.

-Constantly harps on my weight in this clueless nice lefthanded complimentary way, "Oh, you have such a lovely face... In this picture, you're really a good weight... I bought the largest size they had, I'm sure it will fit (it's 4 sizes too small)" despite years of me telling her directly that I don't like it and to stop it.

I guess she's somewhat like Barbara Bush-nice enough in a rich, priviledged, 'why can't the poor be more like us?' way. His brothers and sisters are the same. My family are hillbillies right out of Tennessee. I'm the first to go to college, my grandmother was proud to make it all the way to 8th grade and my great grandfather couldn't read or write. Truly a clash of two worlds.
(, Mon 12 Sep 2005, 3:19, Reply)
Not technically strictly speaking...
My mother-in-law lives in our toilet, even our scary neighbours refuse to visit since she injured my sibling with some bad teenage poetry.

I gave her a crappy prize in an attempt to stop this wired tradition, that’s when I knew it was over as she demanded I attend her wedding to this stupid tourist she met. I don’t blame her though as he turned out to be a hidden treasure expert, but there was no need for the time he got drunk and bought her that psychotic puppy.

The best bit was being forced to meet his parents who turned out to be a pair of jobsworth parking inspectors who sabotage meters and skive of work to have great holidays that always seem to end with someone crying! I must admit my guilty pleasure out of shouting “I just don’t get it” numerous times during the best man speech whilst listening to my walkman and telling anyone who would listen about the beautiful moment when I lost my anal virginity to Richard O’Brian. “That’s my claim to fame” I would tell them, whilst explaining that it was the little things like his harmonica playing that turned me on.

Quite rightly people were also shocked when I showed them the newspaper cuttings of the 9” scare across Mr. O’Brian’s head from the time when I attempted to remove his brain with a ladle whilst singing the wrong words to that song from “Interview with a Blacksheep”. I was being ignorant and it was actually a song from Interview with a Vampire, a film I really wanted for Christmas but everyone in the office laughed and said it was just childhood bad taste. That’s when I lost it and gave my boss a near death experience when I told him about my premonition a movie star dragon fiercely hording a pile of obscure memorabilia.

The fact I am telling these stories must be evidence I am getting old. This one time when on the worst date ever I pretended I was an ex-gigolo just to get laid. I was out of my depth but I had no money to take her out for an expensive meal.

She was so impressed she paid me to buy her a present. I managed to get some shoddy crack from a local nuttier who told me a joke about babies being nailed to trees. He also told me he had only one bollock. I asked him why and he explained that the embarrassing injury was caused by Mr. Joe McCrapalot who projectile vomited a stream of his most hated food so powerful that it actually tore it off.

I found this all very arousing but unfortunately I was overheard by my date. She then proceeded to dump me by throwing a brick at my head just because she saw me wanking over the nearest mini cab. My real dilemma was an inability to decide between seeking revenge by taking a shit in her purse or just shouting a witty comeback at her about her foot shaped mouth.

Unfortunately, I later found out she was acutely a well known celebrity and I had been very rude not to tell her about my invention of “The Game”. It was all a booze related disaster caused when this old guy who introduced us by talking bollocks about this fire he started, he named it “his little bunny wabbit”. I called him a cockbadger (local slang) and then explained my irrational fear of my parents lying to me about laws broken by their clients, my dad jokes about this then plays that Barbie Girl song on the stereo on repeat for 4 hours. I then chased the music playing ice cream truck.

*cough* coat *cough*
(, Fri 9 Sep 2005, 13:59, Reply)
nuff said
(, Thu 8 Sep 2005, 17:26, Reply)
Olive - a sour, rounded, hard little fruit, usually soused in gin
Where to start? Is it compulsory to hate your mother-in-law, some sort of hidden genetic subconscious thing which drives us to dream of throttling the bitch?

Take my mother-in-law, the lovely Olive. (I wish someone would). She’s the most ignorant, useless, obnoxious, idle, loud-mouthed witch, but thankfully she lives 300 miles away so we don’t see her that often. But when she does come to visit, boy, does she get on my tits.

‘What do you fancy for dinner, Olive?’

‘Errrm anything, don’t you worry about me, I’ll just have what you’re having’

I hate answers like that. So fucking unhelpful.

So she gets whatever the family feast is tonight…..and I don’t care what it is, she doesn’t like it. She turns up her nose, pokes it suspiciously with a fork a few times, then whines’ Errrrm, I don’t like this, it smells funny, I think it’s off, can you just do me a plate of chips? None of those arty-farty oven chips, mind you, I want proper saturated full-fat cardiac-arrest jobs, fried in whale-dip’. But don’t mind me, I’m not that hungry…….

She can keep that up for hours. She can whinge and moan for England. Sits there like a deformed fat spider puffing away at her fags and dripping poison in whatever ear she can force into a corner. She’s hard of hearing, but won’t wear a hearing aid. She has a hide like a rhinoceros, totally oblivious to any hint or subtlety, the only way to get her attention is to kick her viciously up her fat arse, then shout very loudly in her wax-ridden ears, using language it’s impossible to misinterpret.

‘Why don’t you fuck off home, you miserable ratbag!!!’ ‘You’ve been here a month, don’t you think the rest of the coven are missing you?’

‘Eh? What did you say? Do I want another pie? Only if it’s better than the last one, it looked a bit off that one, anyone would think you’re trying to poison me!!! And do us some chips, I think my arteries are starting to loosen up a bit!! Hehehehehhehe…….sounds of demented cackling which seems to go on for weeks.

How can a demented old harridan like that be the mother of a sweet natured girl like my beloved?

It’s a
(, Sat 10 Sep 2005, 10:13, Reply)
Anagram of mother in law
MOTHER IN LAW... rejumble the letters..... = WOMAN HITLER.
(, Fri 9 Sep 2005, 17:32, Reply)
My mother in law
My mother in law is a complete mentalist. She also hears voices, usually the pesky Joan of Arc who frequently tells her to set fire to things. This has resulted in her being moved from her council flat which she gutted to another one in the same block which she singed, then to sheltered accommodation where she set fire to a bin before finally being sectioned. She then even set fire to the hospital curtains. Now she's having to stay in hospital because no where else will insure her or put up with her. I have to admit I quite enjoy telling people the saga, as I'm very proud of my final sentence: "She's literally burnt all her bridges".
She also p*ssed twice on my couch last Christmas day, and once threatened to stab me. But her son is lovely.
(, Thu 8 Sep 2005, 20:02, Reply)
Spiritual Crocodile
I used to go out with this girl who was a Mormon WHICH IN MANY WAYS WAS A BIG MISTAKE but anyway she was fit and dirty so all other considerations went out the window. She was incredibly slutty for me - but obviously a shining, virginal pillar of her religious community. Anyway, we were round at my gaff playing a spot of doctors and nurses when all of a sudden there comes a hammering at my front door. Nursey flees into the kitchen whilst I see to the door and there is MIL - a short, pious little woman, very prim and well attired in something like 1950's garb - her face contorted with puritanical rage, she screamed at me


It was even more scary that she wasn't aware that Nursey was in the kitchen at the time, and had sought out where I lived in order to rain down God's righteous indignation that I should sully one of his flock with my non-christian ways. God knows what the poor woman would have said if she'd have known I was also sullying her daughter with my penis.

arf. religion is teh funny.
no apologies neccessary as we were forunately able to finish 'doctors rounds' when I shut the door in the mad old bat's face.
(, Thu 8 Sep 2005, 15:09, Reply)
Social Workers are Fab
My ex-MIL was a child protection Social Worker, you know, the sort that wander into a perfectly happy household and take all the children away so they can be pimped out to the local paedo ring by care workers. At least that's what I think she did, certainly its what I told my mates. Anyway, being married to her daughter was an experience. MIL seemed to fail to notice that whilst she was out saving children from having parents who didn't have enough O levels her daughter had grown up a complete psychopath. This, naturally, did not manifest until after the marriage (before anyone asks why I bloody married her).

Anyway, fast forward to me explaining that the slight bruise to her daughters wrist was as a result of me holding her arm away from my face.... this arm being attached to a rather nice kitchen knife which was being repeatedly thrust at my head....

And what did she say to that ? "Yes, she has always had issues with communication".

No shit.....
(, Thu 8 Sep 2005, 14:24, Reply)
Typical haul of stuff we are made to take away with us after a visit to the in laws:

Packet of 6 obscure brand norwegian frozen doughnuts - semi defrosted
Three copies of 'yours' magazine (knitting patterns, cake recipes, 'Doctors said lose your baby or your legs type stories)
A pack of three assorted peppers
A fushia pink cardigan of some man made flammable textile, size medium ("it's too big for me but it might fit you")
A copy of Asda instore magazine
Pack of three 'Hike' (logo made to look like Nike) socks off the market
A wicker fruit bowl which has been adorned with a knitted snowman holding the fruitbowl in a fuzzy embrace.

Say. No. More.
(, Sat 10 Sep 2005, 0:13, Reply)
all i know is
mother in law is an anogram of woman hitler
(, Fri 9 Sep 2005, 13:19, Reply)
Ok - so I'm just looking for reasons to complain
My MIL is lovely, she's a short, rotund, highly religious lady who would do anything for you. But she does certain things that REALLLY annoy me:

1. Plays GOD SONGS on the piano to my children when I'm not there. My son started singing "Jesus Loves Me" and tried to teach me some other Happy Clappy Bible thumping claptrap the other day.

2. She tells my kids to lecture me about smoking.

3. She thinks I'm an alcoholic because I have an occasional glass of wine. When she makes dinner at her house, there is always a CEREMONIAL beer or glass of wine (from a bottle opened months ago), on the table just to make me feel REALLY uncomfortable. (She'd crap if she knew how much me and her son drink after the kids are in bed). I don't even want the beer or wine, especially when I'm the only one it was offered to.

4. She INSISTS on cleaning my kitchen and then putting everything away in the WRONG PLACE! She thinks she's helping - bless her - but I spend hours cursing her as I look for the measuring jug or the kitchen tongs. I secretly think she deliberately hides the corkscrew and beer opener - see complaint number 3.

5. She knows everybody by name on our street and she doesn't even live anywhere near us. And she knows everyone's business. (i.e. "Oh you know Mr. Scofield from number 10? Well his wife left him because she found out he's a fruit cake!"

6. She regails me with details about my father-in-law's incontinence problems that I didn't need to know.

7. At least twice a year she complains loudly that the kids are not Christened, and I take great pleasure in telling her that because I'm a heathen, unbelieving athiest that would make me a hyprocrite too. Not sure she understands all those long words, but she gets the point.

8. She's racist in a patronising ignorant way. "Oh that family at number 16, you know the BLACK ones, they keep their yard ever so nice. So clean." As if this would somehow be unexpected??
(, Thu 8 Sep 2005, 14:53, Reply)
Time for a father-in-law one...
Not that we're married, or likely to be, but here goes...

Imagine a freezing cold winter in Gunma-ken, about an hour north of Tokyo by bullet train, and then an hour's drive into the mountains. The in-laws-to-maybe-be love going to the very traditional Japanese hot spring baths, so off we go, after a couple of words of advice from my beloved. Off we go, that is, separately - her & putative mother-in-law, and me and PFIL, whose English isn't even as good as my Japanese.

So - I manage to get butt naked in a room full of strange men, and to wash _before_ getting into the bath. All despite small Japanese boys who have apparently never seen a hajukin before, let alone a naked one, standing about ten inches from my wedding tackle gazing at me in wonderment (cue apology for length). And then PFIL just disappears into the crowd.

Now, I'm a little short-sighted, and the idea of going up to within recognition distance of each of about a hundred naked men to see which one I know isn't exactly within my confort zone, so I spent what seemed like four hours in the shallow end, waiting for him to come and rescue me, or at least buy me a beer...

Anyway, it was less embarrassing than my friend's meet-the-Japanese-family-while-in-the-bath story - his now brother-in-law gave him a big hug in the changing rooms and, in broken English, stuttered:

We are now family - I have seen your penis!
(, Mon 12 Sep 2005, 18:08, Reply)
This is a crap, crap one.
Sorry for blandless, but my mother in law's only been my mother in law for a few months. And it wasn't even her that did this. But always being a gung-ho, girl guide sort of chapette, I shall endeavour to relay the only yuk-yuk-yuk worthy thing so far.

My mum in law is a wonderful st Lucian lady (bit of a buddhist too), who is one of the sweetest women in the world. But she's been single since divorcing dadinlaw. Painfully so. So last time she came round to the menagerie (three snakes, two dogs, one big house spider we decided was pet worthy and two crickets I can't bear to feed to the house spider) she sat down with a cuppacha and we have a conversation.

Out of the blue my dear, sweet idiot of a man turns to his mummy dearest and in his dulcet received pronunciation tones announces

'Well you know what you need now mum. YOU NEED TO GET SOME COCK.'

No he wasn't pissed, stoned, on presciption drugs or even in a funny mood. Although this is why I love him so. He's the only person to meet his father in law (ie my pa) for the first time and say 'I'm sorry but I don't think I can talk to you now. I'm on a lot of mushrooms and your face won't stop pulsating'.

Forgot to say. His mum's answer to the cock line was 'That's probably right dear'. All in her stride, god bless the little bunchkin.

Bless. I'd apologise for the length but I have no confidence in my genitalia whatsoever.
(, Mon 12 Sep 2005, 9:35, Reply)
What's the difference between outlaws and inlaws?
Outlaws are wanted
(, Sun 11 Sep 2005, 18:44, Reply)
Oh my god, who came up with this question?
My husband and I separated and then started dating again, and we're making an attempt at reconciliation.

This doesn't stop my m-i-l from repeatedly trying to dump me in his name.

Things she's told me:
- Husband is too afraid to dump me, so he asked her to do it. PS. He doesn't want to see you again.
- He's using me for sex.
- He says I'm awful in bed (seriously, how can you say this to your daughter-in-law with a straight face minutes after walking in on the two of us in the act?)
- The Province told her I'm forbidden to see my daughter.
- My daughter thinks of her as her mother now, and not me (she supports this by pointing out how daughter runs through list of names before deciding who you are - she generally calls everyone DaddyMommyGrandmaMommyDaddy*scream of frustration for not getting the right name*, even my friends...)
- Husband has found a new girlfriend, and they're engaged (What? Since when? You think he'd have mentioned it...)
- Husband has {insert incurable disease here} and only {insert short period of time here} left to live.

It used to bother me at first, but the only thing that really angers me now is that the hubby won't tell her to butt out and mind her own business.

I also wonder if she really believes all of these things...

(, Sun 11 Sep 2005, 6:06, Reply)
Not mine...
A friend's soon-to-be mother in law came out with this upon learning that he was half jewish;

"You killed baby Jesus"

Not much else to say, really.
(, Sat 10 Sep 2005, 19:39, Reply)
Apropos of nothing...
I was just wondering if anyone could come up with a decent anagram of mother-in-law?

I've been trying for a good few hours now and all I can come up with is 'Skanky Old Wrinkled Tits'. That's with adding a few letters and taking some away mind.

So, you know, if anyone has any ideas then please let me know.


(, Sat 10 Sep 2005, 19:03, Reply)
On return from her holiday my M.I.L. was showing off her new digital camera. She scrolled through several snaps she had taken of her trip to Florida, the last half dozen of which were of the inside of the apartment she had stayed in. When I asked her why she had taken these she replied (with a straight face) 'To use up the film.'
(, Fri 9 Sep 2005, 14:52, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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