To say that I have a strange relationship with my stepmother-in-law is an understatement. It’s not like when I wrote Watching Dirty Movies with my Wife’s Mom but there is an awkward strain. To describe my stepmother-in-law as a MILF is technically correct – it’s just that she’s a Mother I’d Like to Forget! It’s been awkward since she opened the door to greet us and I screamed “Oh My God, What happened?” once I saw her white hair. It was so white as if she had the Fancy Feast cat sitting on her head! Apparently, she had stopped dyeing it which is OK, but let someone know. To stop dyeing your hair all of a sudden is your choice, but give someone a little warning that the sight of you has now become scary. One week later, that hair was back to its normal nasty brown and the least she could have said was thank you to me for being honest and helping her out. Also, just as a general rule; if you don’t look good to begin with – don’t experiment!
If I had to try and pinpoint the exact time it started to get weird, I’d have to say it was right around the time my Step MILF-in law tried making out with me during a church wedding…Upon greeting her, I did the expected and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. I certainly didn’t want to, but it was the appropriate thing to do since people were watching and a high five I wanted to give her would seem odd. As my lips were about to make contact with her cheek, she whipped her head around quickly and planted a big wet one right square on my mouth!!! Normally, I would have been game for a little cougar action, but A) it was inside a church and B) I’d rather make out with Larry King wearing only his suspenders and glasses than kiss her on the lips! I almost slapped her right there – I’m Catholic – You don’t do that in church! If you can even believe it – that wasn’t the worst part. Even worse than her planting one on me was the fact that I had to sit there in the pew with absolutely no one to tell because the ceremony was starting and everyone else I knew was in the bridal party. It was literally burning inside me fighting to burst out like that alien baby in V. I needed to tell someone, anyone, when I finally made a friend in the pew and spilled my guts. As soon as the words left my mouth and I actually heard it out loud, I knew it was wrong. My new friend looked at me with disgust and asked why in the world I would ever kiss my Step MILF-in-law on the lips right there in the church and I realized that I had to be the one to tell my wife first. I didn’t think she wouldn’t trust me or think that I tried something with her stepmother, but the one you believe is always the one who gets to tell it first.
I was sitting four pews in front of her but I just knew that if it came down to a foot race, I could beat her to my wife first. After the ceremony, I tried to get right through the receiving line very quickly, but that sneaky bitch cut right around and made a mad dash to my wife – beating me by seconds…I could hear her as I was walking up…
My Wife: (To her Stepmother) “What happened to your face?” (She had a gash right above her upper lip where she must have cut herself shaving that morning)
Her Stepmother: “Well, when your husband kissed me on the lips in the church, he must have scratched me…”
(That’s when I jumped in as multiple heads turned around after hearing such blatant nonsense)
Me: Oh No You don’t! You kissed me! Don’t you try to play this game – you leaned in and kissed me! You kissed me!
Guess who got the dirty looks and called crazy? Guess whose fault it was?
Can you believe that woman tried to get to second base with me in a Catholic Church and I’m the bad guy? This happened in 2001 and everyone still refers to it as the time I kissed her Stepmother, not the time she kissed me. Just like when I accidentally mounted my wife’s aunt at Christmas – no one ever forgets it and they always make it seem like I’m the one that’s in the wrong…
The lesson we learn and tell our in-laws is that “I can understand you losing control because obviously, I have a mirror and can see what I’m putting out there, but “no means no!” I am not just some piece of meat you can grab and cop a feel anytime you want. Just because she looks like a dog on a leash, doesn’t mean that she can start humping anything that walks by!