SCHOOL MOMMY

How a Blithe Character From “The Simpsons” Became Mother of the Year

A Story About How My Mother-In-Law Came to Hate Me and Why It Still Matters

The moment his sperm hit my egg, it was over.

My mother-in-law disliked me outright. Even before I married her son. Hell, she hated me long before I formally joined their family — and even before I started reproducing with Joe, which ended up happening 2.5 times by the time he and I stumbled down the aisle.

In retrospect, Ralph Wiggum did not help endear me to her, either.

I remember the first time I met Derby. More so, I remember the afternoon I should have first met Derby. It was over twenty years ago. But the incident was a sharp-toothed fuckup I’ve never managed to outswim.

Joe and I had been dating six months when I met his upright, New Englandish mother. Joe’s parents were at the Men’s Big Ten Swimming & Diving Championships to watch him swim the 1000-yd freestyle.

This meet, the culmination of endless training, was at Indiana University — the college where my best friend from high school, Ryland, went. IU had the grandest damned aquatic center I ever did see.

My mom and I had driven down to Bloomington and met up with Ryland in the bleachers, where we all could look down upon the huge competition pool to watch Joe’s race. Joe was still in the warmup pool — as evidenced by the fact that I couldn’t find him as I excitedly scanned the crowd. I would have recognized my tall, handsome boyfriend’s Speedo’d body anywhere, even from the grandstands of a college athletics facility.

Ryland and I had been buds — not Forrest and Jenny, but Forrest and Bubba. We’d spent most of high school hanging out and had only just parted ways the previous summer for our respective colleges. We still talked on the phone, and I sincerely hoped he was getting laid. In high school Ryland had always had my back, and I’d had his.

And so it must have looked bad, my best guy-friend and I sitting thisclose to each other in the bleachers like a couple of giggling schoolgirls, acting like idiots and making inappropriate jokes. We were reunited besties; it was an intimacy that wasn’t even remotely sexual. Still, we must have given off the wrong vibe.

And had I known my future mother-in-law was within earshot, I probably wouldn’t have nudged Ryland and pointed when I spotted Joe on the pool deck.

“Isn’t he a FINE piece of ass?” I loudly moaned.

I’m what people call a “guy’s girl.” Raised by my dad. Rarely spotted in makeup. Not into drama or bullshit, nor many other complexities of stereotypically-feminine friendships. And dirty jokes are my Xanadu.

So I hadn’t blinked when I’d met Joe’s dad, Dale, the previous fall.

“Hey! Lindy!” Dale now spotted me in the poolside stands. He climbed up several rows from where he’d been sitting by himself, and I promptly introduced him to my mom, who had long since tuned out my and Ryland’s antics.

“Mom, this is Joe’s dad, Dale Brenner. Dale, this is my mom, Kim!” I beamed.

The hum of the crowd got louder as the swimmers finished the race before Joe’s. Dale’s eye twinkled as he shook my mom’s hand. Then, he gestured to where Joe’s mom was sitting.

By herself. Right behind us.

Awkward.

Then, nobody introduced us.

Awkwarder.

One glance at Derby would have betrayed her link to Joe — had I known to look for a woman who was sitting alone! Our bleachers section was virtually empty. Who’d have thought she wouldn’t even be sitting in the same row as her husband?

Joe shed his warm-ups, lowered his goggles to his eyes, and stepped up to the blocks.

Is it hot in here? I thought.

But there was no doubt. Joe and his mother had the same angular nose. Same dark, soulful eyes. Derby squinted at me irritably and averted hers.

Piece of ass, indeed.

Read Part 2 of this story here:

Join Lindy Vogel on Medium, subscribe, and follow Sweary Mommy for part two of how to make an ass-tastic first impression.