The day was hot and sultry and we had invited our son's girlfriend's parents to our Bay cottage where we would have crabs by the water. We had never met them and the idea was hatched by our son who suggested we also invite our other son and his frisky daughters. Won't that be awkward, I asked, the girls demand so much attention. We won't really get to talk with the parents.. That's the point, said our son. Her father is a right wing crazy, spouting off at odd moments. But he's really a nice guy. Yeah. right.We've warned him to stay silent but I don't know if her can, said my son.
Great.
Honestly, the father was OK even if he didn't make eye contact when he spoke and seemed tense and not particularly interested in learning anything about us. I felt pleasant conversation was an effort for him. I am tired of people like that and I stopped trying to engage him in any conversation. It was a hot, humid day and I'm thinking, tell me, why am I hosting these people again? Hey, son, you owe me one.
It gets worse.
Our son's girlfriend (a sweet, sensible woman) brought her dog with them, a small rescued Norweigan Elkhound mix. The dog is docile but doesn't like other dogs. Poor Zoey is territorial and usually doesn't like other dogs, either. They were tied up apart from each other while we ate crabs because earlier in the day they got into a brief fight before they were pulled apart.. I wasn't looking but behind me a fierce dogfight erupted. The girlfriend tried to intervene and was bitten. A puncture wound which will be the way we will all remember this day.
The poor girlfriend made light of it but the next day she was in the ER for seven hours with streaks and a swollen arm. On IV antibiotics and internsive therapy for a week since she is allergic to some antibiotics.
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