Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Please Tell Me That You Didn't Sell The Farm

I'm a city girl that married a country boy.  We compromised and live in the suburbs.  Needless to say, the culture differences between our two families are vast.

A few weeks ago, my farm living parents in law called to let us know that they were driving out for a visit - the next day!

This wasn't much notice, but that wasn't too big of a deal.  I rushed around the house in an attempt to get ready for guests and kicked Eldest Weasel out of her bedroom after having her clean it and bring me her sheets to be washed readied the guest room.

Most everything was ready and I was busy in the kitchen when the door bell rang, alerting us that our company had arrived.  Mr. Weasel answered the door to greet his parents, but instead of the expected sounds of a reunion, I heard silence followed by, "WHAT THE HECK HAVE YOU DONE?????".

This could not be good.  I rushed to the front door to find out what all of the hub-ub was about.  What I saw was reminiscent of this;

After picking my jaw up off the ground, I hugged my in-laws hello and pleaded with them to, "Please, tell me that you didn't sell the farm". 

No, they did not sell the farm Thank God, but opted to buy the RV so that they no longer need to board the dogs when they travel to visit us.  Yup, you read that right.  Cousin Eddie's RV came complete with two full size German Shepherds that are used to roaming 25 acres at will.

Once Mr. Weasel regained his composure, we went to take a brief tour of this home on wheels that was parked outside my front door.  His only comment to his parents was that he didn't want to hear this;

Yuppers, my life is one big Christmas Vacation!

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