Independence Day

I have a secret. Well, not really. But the Husband does. He hasn't told my in-laws that they're ... well, my in-laws. Their relationship with the Husband is pretty strained. They live in New Jersey, and in the last five years I've seen them twice. Once, during the year we spent in New Jersey, and once a few months ago.

My mother-in-law won't call our house, because she's afraid that I will answer the phone. So she makes her husband do the calling. He's not much of a phone guy, so the conversations usually go like this:

The telephone rings. I answer.
Me: Hello?
Husband's Dad: Hi, is [the Husband] there?
Me: Yep, let me get him.
I call the Husband to the phone.
The Husband: Hello?
Husband's Dad: Hi.
The Husband: Hi, Dad. How are you?
Husband's Dad: I'm fine. Here's your mother.
The Husband: Ok. Bye, Dad. ... Hi, Mom.

That's not an exaggeration.

Actually, I do have a secret. I am the only reason The Husband has a relationship with his parents at all. That one visit in the last year? It was because I told him that he needed to invite his parents to see where we lived. Those monthly phone calls they receive? He'd probably only remember to call them about twice a year if I didn't tell him to call his mother.

But I've kind of given up on them. After their visit, I told the Husband that I was pretty much done with trying. I'm not going to tell him to invite them. I'm not going to tell him that it's time to call his mother. I've declared my independence.

In happier notes, we actually had a lovely Independence Day. We had a picnic with my almost one-year-old nephew and some friends. There's a great ballpark nearby with a view of the Boston fireworks. They have some live music, and then when it gets later, they have a screen where they run the tv coverage of the Pops concert. It's not quite the same as when my friends had an apartment on the Charles with a balcony facing the fireworks, but it was very nice.