So The Mormon met the parents yesterday. It was a nerve-wracking experience (for me). Just because…you know. You know how my family is. I love them, but things can be…awkward. But everyone was on their best behavior, so…good.
I confessed as we were stepping out the front door that I was so glad the awkwardness had ended, and he said, “Why? It was fine!”
Later at dinner he asked if I thought they’d liked him, and I said yes, from what I could tell. Hope so. That will make any future mention of him at all much less awkward. They didn’t say anything, though, so I’m assuming it’s all cool.
Oh, here’s something. I was sick on Christmas, and just sort of lying around all day, too weak to stand. At the end of the night, Psychobrat (who had been a complete bitch all day, of course) stomped into the laundry room, threw open the washer, threw open the dryer, and immediately made one of her noises that are supposed to show her annoyance and instead make her sound like she’s attempting to gargle her entire throat. This meant that my clothes were in the dryer. (I’d neglected to take them out the night before when I’d gotten sick.)
Well, as I was lying on my mom’s lap on the couch, still too weak to stand up for long periods of time, and since, you know, I do her laundry all the time, whether I’m waiting for the washer or I just happen to be awake while it’s going…I just do it…I didn’t think asking her to simply take everything and dump it on my bed in a heap would be too much to ask.
Oh, but it was, apparently. She gargled her tonsils for a while, and finally screeched, “NO, I WON’T DO YOUR LAUNDRY!”
Now, here’s the actually remarkable part: My dad said, “Oh, damn it, [Sister], you can be so selfish sometimes!” and went in there and got my clothes for me, took them into my room, folded and sorted everything, and left it neatly on my bed. I’m lying there on the couch thinking, This is awesome.
She responded with something like, “WELL I’M TIRED AND CRANKY!” to which he replied, disgust evident in voice, “Yeah, that’s obvious. Go to bed.”
It was wonderful.
Like I said, though, she was a bitch the entire day. Mostly about the computer. (Apparently it was “her day”, as she told us. It couldn’t be, like, you know, the Savior’s day, or anything like that. It was all hers.)
And of course, a dream.
It kept alternating between a modern, American setting and a faerie tale, Cinderella-ish sort. I was working for this really rich family, as like…the maid, or…the nanny, or…something? But in the other reality, it was a charming prince and his bitchy wife and their kids. It seriously had this whole Cinderella feel to it. Except the woman was a complete bitch. The children? Also bitches.
My younger sister and brother also worked in the castle/mansion. I took care of them, too. I’m not sure how old we were, or how we got there. Anyway.
I started to fall in love with the prince/man of the house. He was falling for me, too. Probably something to do with the fact that he could see how different I was from his wife (probably an arranged marriage—she so didn’t deserve him). (He was also completely aware of the fact that his own children were miserable little devils. It was wonderful.) This was a genuinely nice guy, whom you could only feel sorry for for being stuck in this marriage with this god-awful family.
Anyway, so the wife eventually found out there was some sort of something going on between me and her husband, and of course, I’m basically a peasant girl who isn’t worthy to look at her as it is, but when she discovered that, she decided to kill me. Freakishly, she let her kids in on this idea. They were all for it. (Not completely sure how old they were, either. There were somewhere between two and four of them. I’m not really certain.) But she had them well-trained to carry out her evil bitchiness. He found out about the plot and warned me.
So…I think she was planning to poison me and my brother and sister. But when she found out I knew about this (I fed the food to one of her evil dogs right in front of her, out of spite), I had to flee. Into the woods in the giant backyard. (I think the faerie tale version was an enchanted forest.) (And I’m serious, the dogs were evil…they would…bark and stuff, to let her know that I was with Prince Charming. They went snooping.) But yeah. I threw the plates at the dog, and she dove to retrieve it, but the dog was quicker. The dog turned belly-up, and I screamed, “You witch! You evil witch! Don’t you realize I have powerful people on my side!?”
I was, of course, referring to her husband, which she knew. (He had warned me, and we had already made plans to run away together the next day, into another kingdom where no evil witches would throw anything between us—death or themselves or anything.) That’s when I grabbed my siblings’ hands and the three of us ran into the forest.
I was hiding somewhere that I could still see what was going on. She was distributing daggers to her children, making it all seem like a fun game. “Whoever finds them first gets extra dessert,” or something like that, in this really sweet voice. They were all creepy-looking little things with malicious grins. (I think she was actually Tilda Swinton, with long hair in the faerie-tale world and short hair in the other one.)
Anyway, so there I’m sitting, brother and sister alongside me, behind a pile of chopped firewood, I do believe—a large pile—when her other dog comes running up, barking and snarling. I was sure everyone had been alerted to our hiding place, when suddenly, the husband’s cat (which looked an awful lot like our family kitty) pounced on the dog, hissing and biting and clawing, and distracted it, and they took off fighting.
But we went running, anyway. I waited until they were all deeper in the woods (or so I thought) and went running with the kids back towards the front, straight into the arms of Prince Charming. (Well, I didn’t mean to. He just appeared there. I kind of collided. Actually, I thought it was her at first. But no, she was behind me.)
He said we had to leave instantly. We were just embracing, when little sister screamed, “There! She’s right there!” and there was the bitch, coming right at us, bonfire in her eyes.
But he drew his sword, pointed it at her, and informed her that he could end it all then and there, if that was what she wanted. She hissed like a snake and backed away a few paces.
“Then go…run with them, if that is what you want!” Uh…a bit creepy. But anyway, as his coachman was right there, we didn’t need to be told twice. (Fortunately, the coachman was loyal to the prince, and not her. He thought she was a bitch, too.)
So then when this ended, it still wasn’t completely over—then I dreamed I was lying in bed next to Dean the Mormon, having apparently fallen asleep at his house, and was telling him about it that morning, and he was very entertained, and said, “So did everybody live happily ever after?”
“Well, you would think so, wouldn’t you?” I said. “But no—” and I proceeded to tell him all the things that went wrong with it. Namely, that Prince Charming actually ended up being a complete dick anyway, and…oh, there was a whole list of things. I can’t really remember anymore, but everything went wrong. (Apparently. I didn’t know about those bits until this part of the dream. It originally ended with us riding away in the carriage at the end.)