Married Life

Holidays with the In-Laws: Fact of Married Life?

So. It was supposed to be a holiday with the in-laws this week. I am, as I write this, SUPPOSED to be lying by the pool in glorious Palm Cove, book in one hand and cocktail in the other. Unfortunately, I am still in stupid Melbourne.

We missed the flight. For no reason, other than that instead of arriving at our place at 6:15am like they were supposed to, the in-laws were running late. And they were not running late for any particular reason, either. They just “thought they had plenty of time to relax” before leaving, despite our SPECIFIC instructions to leave from where they were at 5:45am. They were already packed, they were awake at 5am and THERE WAS ABSOLUTELY NO REASON WHATSOEVER WHY THEY SHOULD BE LATE.

We had a mad dash to the airport, a ridiculous sprint through the terminal, only to be told we had missed check-in time and the flight was closed. To make matters worse, the staff were horrid and unhelpful. In the end, the next available flight out was not until 24 hours later. So our 4-day holiday we had so carefully planned as a 60th birthday celebration for Den’s dad is now cut to a 3-day holiday. Great.

I honestly don’t know whether to scream, laugh or cry. We’ve done a lot of yelling and bitching so far. And now we have to spend 3 days with them when everyone is nothing short of FURIOUS at each other.

What a great start to a relaxing family holiday. Quite honestly, our expectations were very low to start with (there’s usually an inexplicable 2.5-day limit to us all being around each other when we visit them to stay at their house in the country… not sure why, that’s just when all the wheels start to fall off), so we were understandably dubious about sharing a two-bedroom apartment for the week, anyways… but somehow, even with the lowest of low expectations, they managed to be blown out of the water by the sheer… WASTE OF THE ENTIRE DAY, THE MONEY IT COST, THE GORGEOUS HOTEL ROOM THAT IS CURRENTLY SITTING THERE, PAID FOR BUT UNOCCUPIED….

I’m freakin’ exhausted. So freakin’ exhausted….

Make me feel better, please… tell me more horror stories about traveling with the in-laws… Surely I’m not the only one…

(Oh, and please don’t get me wrong. I honestly love them, but things like this are just SO frustrating.)

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