I’d like to utilise the start of todays blog by making a public apology to my beloved in-laws. I do so via this medium, feeling it’s only fair that I use the same vehicle to chastise myself as the one I occasionally use to admonish them.
In the past I’ve painted them as rancid, unloving, selfish people. In my defence, I did back up my ranting with evidentiary detail, they weren’t just empty diatribes.
I’d like to think it’s not unreasonable to expect your wife’s parents to visit their incurably ill daughter more than once in the near six years since her diagnosis.
Additionally, I don’t think it’s overreacting to be disappointed with them for not contacting Karen on the day their daughter underwent a cardiac procedure. Or at least make a caring gesture like sending her flowers.
However, yesterday I was made to eat my words when I discovered they really are the bastions of the caring and nurturers of the concept of loving family. I have to hold my hands up and say I was wrong when I said of them “They are horrible uncaring bastards, who haven’t a shred of humanity!”
What makes me re-evaluate my thoughts on the elderly Birtleyites? What has instilled beliefs in me that the creators of my consort are, after all, the pillars of our family? Also, whose underpants has Karen just hung on the washing line?…. They aren’t mine!….. It says Albert Trubshaw on the label inside!
Well I’ll furnish you good people (and you picking your nose in Willenhall!) how I came to see the error of my ways.
Yesterday, during a telephone conversation between Karen and her mum, a snippet of information was disclosed that just proved that you should never jump to conclusions, particularly when judging a person’s character.
My courageous spouse was dutifully enlightened by her mater that they were after all going to send Karen flower post cardiac procedure. However, this gesture of tenderness was not possible as her mum couldn’t find the number for Interflora!
I welled up with emotion at news of an act of such caring. A display of love and humanity that will surely give them their first Nobel Peace Prize nomination since the year her fragrant mother excitedly exclaimed “Are you keeping it?” when told the news she was about to be a grandmother.
I know I shouldn’t air my (or even Albert Trubshaw’s) dirty washing in my blogs. Like Karen’s dad, it’s not big and it’s not clever!
However, these people have been given a free pass for their behaviour for too long now.
In Shakespeare’s ‘Twelfth Night’, Malvalio mused “In my stars I am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ’em.”
I would proffer if Malvalio had know my in-laws, he may have added the suffix “and some are just twats….. Oh, and you in Willenhall stop picking thy nose!”
Like everyone, Gary Strachan has plenty of flaws, has made (and continues to make) numerous mistakes. Ordinarily I’m not judgemental, as I know I’ve no right to be, but I find certain individuals lack of thought and dispensation of their share of responsibility exhausting.
To close I just want to say “Albert Trubshaw if you wonder where your undies are they are here!……. Oh, and you in Willenhall stop picking thy nose!”