A visit from my mother-in-law

When my mother-in-law is nearby I feel a need to refer to her as my "mother-in-law." Not Anna's mom or Mary or Professor Gordon. I get a kick of the concept of having a "mother-in-law." It's like the thrill I got from using the word "fuck" when was 7. The usage seems almost transgressive. I this case though it's because I'm always a little surprised that I'm married. When I imagined my life as a teenager there was always a wife there, but she was an abstraction.

Often when I'm working or hanging out I'll get a sense of deja vu, like I've imagined one of the scenarios or stories I'm hearing before. One of the joys of being married, or at least my marriage, is how that never happens. The preconceived notions don't exist because Anna, in all her glorious specifics, never was someone I imagined. In that sense everything feels new because I never dreamed it before. Forget about the numbing routine, every day is interesting, thrilling, and perhaps a little nerveracking because it's all new.

It's always interesting of course to watch Anna and her mother interact. There's a strange competitive thing, which for some reason means that I get to eat chili. I like having parents out here, showing them our cute little town. It's not like the old days in New Mexico when we had to make jokes about how shitty our little town was to try and fend off the pity. It was a fun weekend and I ate well. I'm looking forward to hosting everyone at Christmas, though no, we won't be having dinner in a hotel.