We spent Saturday evening in Phoenix at a little Easter Eve shindig that brother #3 put together. Basically he put slate tiles on his patio and needed an excuse to show off.
You may remember my earlier rants about my in-laws from these two entries: The Fat Sister-In-Law and I Wish I Had That Kind of Time. I've decided on a new nickname for brother #3 and sister-in-law #3 - The Perfects. As in Mr. and Ms. Perfect. As in I would weep with envy if you weren't so fucking smug about it all.
One of Ms. Perfect's sisters was there. She weighs about 90 pounds, soaking wet. Which would be totally normal if she were 4'5". But she's not. She spent a good 15 minutes when she first got there, getting confirmation that her new pants didn't make her look fat, i.e. wasting our time. You cannot imagine how tempted I was to tell her they did make her look a little chunky.
Oh, honey, just stand next to me all night. Actually, gain 30 pounds, stand next to me, and still have people think you're anorexic. I think the lack of food in her diet may have affected her creative problem solving skills.
A bit later someone make the mistake of admiring a picture of Ms. Perfect. Who responded with, "Oh, that was taken in my skinny days." To which I responded, "Fuck you." And then I snapped her skinny little neck in my bare hands.
Well maybe only in my head.