Dear Maryn:
After two years of “helping” her get her country house ready to sell by squatting and inviting other squatters to “help,” my sweetie’s relatives and their moocher friends were finally locked off the property after I sicced the sheriff on them and stood armed guard. We eventually got the place spiffy and sold.
By Halloween last year, we moved into a small townhouse for two. My ever-sweet sweetie invited the original pair of squatters to Thanksgiving dinner to thank them for their intentions. They accepted, and a day later began paving another road to Hell: They invited a daughter, her hubby, and three kids to ourshiny tiny new table for four. Another of their daughters promptly invited herself, boyfriend, and his son.
Horrified, we called off their version of Thanksgiving for the homeless (which they ain’t) and became the Grinch couple who stole holiday cheer.
Yesterday, Karma wended its way to bite the original pair of freeloaders on their collective ass. They let us know what jerks we were by telling how they invited their daughters and baggage to their house for Thanksgiving, but unfortunately there was no room for us.
Even while we were celebrating, came texts that the daughters had invited a dozen or more of their insignificant others’ families to “drop by and partake”–emphasis on “take.”
My sweetie is sad at the irony; every time I’m able to stand, I fall back to the floor to roll and laugh. Am I wrong for enjoying: Lo, and it came to pass that what doth go around verily mayeth come back around?
After two years of “helping” her get her country house ready to sell by squatting and inviting other squatters to “help,” my sweetie’s relatives and their moocher friends were finally locked off the property after I sicced the sheriff on them and stood armed guard. We eventually got the place spiffy and sold.
By Halloween last year, we moved into a small townhouse for two. My ever-sweet sweetie invited the original pair of squatters to Thanksgiving dinner to thank them for their intentions. They accepted, and a day later began paving another road to Hell: They invited a daughter, her hubby, and three kids to our
Horrified, we called off their version of Thanksgiving for the homeless (which they ain’t) and became the Grinch couple who stole holiday cheer.
Yesterday, Karma wended its way to bite the original pair of freeloaders on their collective ass. They let us know what jerks we were by telling how they invited their daughters and baggage to their house for Thanksgiving, but unfortunately there was no room for us.
Even while we were celebrating, came texts that the daughters had invited a dozen or more of their insignificant others’ families to “drop by and partake”–emphasis on “take.”
My sweetie is sad at the irony; every time I’m able to stand, I fall back to the floor to roll and laugh. Am I wrong for enjoying: Lo, and it came to pass that what doth go around verily mayeth come back around?
