Anyhow, FIL has his issues, too. Yesterday, Ashton was playing with his new play dough sets (one is McPukes, the other is the Rat, CEC) OUTSIDE because a few days ago grandpa freaked about playdough chunks on the floor (they were dry and had fallen out of the box, we bought the two sets at a yard sale for fifty cents each). Well, for some unknown reason (beyond my comprehension, apparently) FIL thought it was the ultimate sin that Ashton got playdough chunks on the OUTDOOR PATIO! WTF? He was making my four year old pick it up. OUTFUCKINGSIDE. He was on his knees, yelling at ds about how he was going to throw out the playdough, and scraping the cement with a tent stake. Talk about OCD.
That was definitely an over the top batshit crazy response to a kid having a little bit of fun. I seriously felt bad for Gary having to grow up surrounded by that kind of crazy.
For the first time in my life, I chose to keep my mouth shut. I talked to my husband about it instead of going directly for the jugular of the person who was acting ridiculous about a four year old trying to have some fun. Huh. Mayhaps my filter isn't broken! As we walked the Princess around the yard, I explained to him how the main ingredient in playdough is flour, it is non-toxic, biodegradable, and is even relatively easy to clean off of carpet (you must let it dry first!).
So, in an act of extreme bravery, my dh confronted his father. He told him to quit flipping out, and explained to him the physical properties of playdough. He then told him, "IF you want to ruin the patio by scraping playdough off with a metal tent stake, by all means, do it. " LMAO.
I was so proud of my hubby. He stood up to his dad's oddities and kept a level head doing it. I love that man. :-)
Here he is, the evile little demon spawn who dared spill playdough outside:
Looks wicked, doesn't he?
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