Alright, here's a good lead-in:
People have been asking me, on the side, what it's like now living with my MIL. After all, it's been some time now - by my count 24 days.
But there're too many other statistically significant variables at the moment to render a targeted analysis.
In a word, things have been totally *fine* thus far. This house is big - providing a large buffer zone for anyone in need of a little space.
Plus, y'all need to be reminded, multi-generational cohabitation is actually the historical norm. Grown adults have been living with their parents and grandparents for well....MILLENNIA!
Recall that I myself grew up in a two-family home, the other half of which was occupied by my maternal grandparents. Also, my wife's grandmother lived in her family house for a bit as well. And when Social Security/Medicare/pensions go bust living arrangements will revert back to what they always were.
Forever molested by foresight, I'm pretty sure that I want to be close to my own children when I'm a drooling, napping, forgetful 'old coot'. I actually asked my 4.01 year old Princess the other night if she'd take care of me when I was old. Without hesitation, she reached around my neck and gave me one of her trademark python hugs, gritted her teeth, and say YES!
So as far as I'm concerned, living with my MIL or even my own *inlawish* parents, is simply part of the family deal.
Note there are a score of benefits to having an adult roommate. For one thing, I can now run out to the store, to the train station, or to the driving range at 6am with the comfort that I didn't leave my small children alone (as I used to do!). And, I fully intend on some late afternoons, taking the train into Manhattan and meeting my wife after work for dinner. Grandma will be left in charge!
Yeah there's the to-be-expected clutter, and the 'old coot' idiosyncrasies that come with the territory....but in my case, thus far, they've been surmountable. And I'm starting to get very comfortable here.
What's funny, if you recall, is that I spent nearly two weeks at my parents' house before officially moving down to Long Island. Put it this way, after dealing with my folks and their cluttered fridge, their insane newspaper hoarding(!), and their queer rubbish disposal procedures (composting!)...
I came down here, to my MIL's house, and the similarities bordered on the profound, with her stockpiles of expired food, her papers everywhere (though mostly mail), and her wacko garbage can ritual (uses those grocery store bags only - about 11 per day that have to be toted down to the garbage!).
So limbo at my parent's house was actually a full-simulation training ground for what I was moving into!
And can someone, anyone, tell me why those all those 'old coots', the same people who run around turning lights off to *save electricity*....why they all have this deranged obsession with leaving a faint kitchen light on all night long?