The invasion of the in-laws is underway. The father-in-law showed up
promptly at ten-thirty this morning. The pungent aroma of relief is
still wafting through the Cake Eater Apartment, even though he and the
husband have bugged out to go and have some lunch.
When he called yesterday afternoon to inform us of their second
arrival, he sounded exhausted. To explain, the father-in-law is not a
loud man. When he speaks, he uses moderated tones and gets his point
across clearly and quickly. If he's not speaking, something he does
quite frequently, well, you wonder why he's holding his tongue, because
there's clearly a reason for it. But yesterday, it was as if someone
had taken a stick to him and he'd just surrendered to the beating
because there was no use in fighting it anymore. He was practically
whispering on the phone, like he was sneaking away to make the call.
This morning, however, he's a new man. He's chipper. Spunky. Smiling.
Couldn't chatter enough.
You know, it's kind of nice being someone's safe haven.