Should I Bring This Up In Couple's Therapy?

In a moment of weakness, I allowed myself to be convinced to visit The Devil.

I should explain that my husband (The Anti-Christ?) and I have had our share of issues, but in a recent attempt to promote marital harmony, I agreed to accompany him and our children to the house of The Devil. I hemmed and hawed and made excuses and placed conditions, but in the end, I relented.

Big. Fucking. Mistake.

I should have known the evening was destined to end disastrously when my husband (The Anti-Christ?) and I had the following conversation on the drive over:

A-C: Well, your mom probably hates me.

DDIL: No, my mom loves you like a son, even though you've done some shitty things. Because, you know, she's, like, normal and wants the best for us. Unlike some other mother I know who hates me even though I've never done a thing wrong to her, ever.*

A-C: My mom doesn't hate you, she thinks you hate her.

DDIL: No comment.

So, I sat, being eaten alive by demon mosquitoes in The Devil's backyard, and watched my children splash happily in The Devil's pool and listened to The Devil recount her week's activities of shopping, yoga, British television programming, new prescription medications and earlier that day, lunch with a friend of her's and the friend's daughters. Of course, my husband, being a dutiful and attentive minion son asked how she enjoyed her lunch, which she must have interpreted as "Hey, mom, can you tell us about your lunch and find a way to piss off DDIL while you're at it?"

So, she spends the next 15 minutes telling us how all she heard the entire time at lunch from the friend's daughters was how "hot" A-C was. How he's so good-looking, he could be a model. How nobody would believe he's married, with children. Of course, The Devil thought it necessary to add:

"I don't think DDIL knows how lucky she is, with such a hot-looking husband!"

Meaning what? I'm such a fucking ugly dog-face that I should be grateful she allowed her "hot" son to have sex with me multiple times? I'm really not a jealous person, but the fact that I know she said these things to get under my skin infuriates me. And it infuriates me because I know she said these things knowing that it could create discord for us, at a time when we're already struggling to keep our marriage and family together. And it infuriates me that I let her infuriate me.

I held my tongue and tried to not let on that she accomplished her goal. I bit my lip when she insisted we stay for dinner. I swallowed the bile that rose to my mouth when she licked her fingers after dinner while complaining about not being able to lose any weight. I resisted making any snide comments when The Devil lamented her daughter's poor choice in boyfriends. And I kept my thoughts to myself when my husband (The Anti-Christ?) mentioned that night that I seemed upset. All for the sake of marital harmony.

And because I'm afraid if I mention it, my husband (The Anti-Christ?) may, with good intentions, tell his mother that her comments were inappropriate. And I'd rather have every last ounce of blood in my body drained by those demon mosquitoes than give her that satisfaction.

Live and learn, I guess. Learn to avoid The Devil like the bloated, white-haired, drunken plague.



*Not counting creating this blog, of course, because as far as I know, The Devil and my husband (The Anti-Christ?) are none the wiser.