V:Or is it a money thing? Who’s paying for this, anyway? I mean, if you and Bobby are cutting the check or swiping the card, there’s even less of a reason for you to solicit anyother opinions. Unless the MIL is ponying up money, there’s no reason to talk to her at all.
Mary:I have to agree. Sometimes, in an effort to build bridges, we forget about our own boundaries. It makes total sense that you would want to ingratiate yourself with your new relations, especially if she can be difficult. But perhaps what you saw as a way to develop the relationship was for her an opportunity, or even an imperative, to comment.
V:The other thing is, if you want the rubber-stamp approval, sit in front of a mirror and tell yourself how awesome all your choices are. Otherwise, shut it, do your thing, and be polite to the woman at the event. And if you knew she was tough to deal with beforehand? You never should have gone down this road in the first place.
Mary:Um, yes, except I can understand your wanting to make the attempt to include her, and I would add that there are so many other levels on which to engage Bobby’s mother. After the wedding and honeymoon, perhaps try to restart the relationship with an invitation to dinner. Maybe you’ll be less stressed, and so will she. You mention that you only had six months to plan the wedding, so I imagine you’re under even more pressure than most brides. Please, let us know how it goes? We wish you all the best!
V:And when in doubt, your local home improvement store has duct tape. Later.
Of Cats and Cruises
Dear Vishous,
(And hi, Mary! You’re my favoriteshellan!) Anyway, my problem is with my cat. Actually, scratch that. My problem is my boyfriend, who has a problem with my cat. Some background about us. We met in college but didn’t start dating until we both got jobs in the same city. He asked me out and did the pursuing, and I gradually fell for him. We’ve been together for about three years now. Marriage is maybe in our future, but we’re still kind of young (we’re both twenty-four).
He has his own apartment, which he has shared with two of his buddies. Lately, one of them has been making problems for him. They are arguing a lot, about everything from who’s cleaning up what dishes to whether someone forgot to lock the door last. My boyfriend is fed up and has asked if he can stay with me while he looks for another place to live. I have a feeling he’s using the apartment search as a fallback if we aren’t compatible under the same roof because, as his move-out date approaches, he hasn’t been checking out any roommate search sites or been asking other friends of his for leads.
I’m fine with him moving in, and I want the new arrangement to work out for us. I also appreciate the lack of pressure that we have with this whole apartment-search thing. If we aren’t a good fit, then there’s a release valve built into the situation. The problem is, he says I need to give up my cat. He says he’s allergic to her, and it’s true, he does take an allergy pillfrom time to time when he’s over here. But I feel like he’s asking me to pick him over her. She is one of the cats I grew up with. We got her when I was fourteen. She’s ten now, and I don’t want to give her back to my parents because they travel a lot now that my dad’s retired, and besides, she’s used to me, and I’m used to her. I feel like the transition would be hard on her and I also know I am more available to her than my mom and dad can be. Is my boyfriend being unreasonable? Am I a bad pet parent for considering the relocation of my cat?
Any advice would be greatly appreciated.
Meow Me Going To Do
Vishous:Keep the cat, ditch the loser—
Mary:*shoots a glare over* Can’t we start one of these on a more positive note?
V:Okay, fine. I am *air quotes* positive *air quotes* that you need to keep the cat and ditch the loser. This is a permanent decision for the cat and a temporary one for your BF. The cat shouldn’t have to suck up the disruption because you two humans don’t know whether you’re taking a left or a right.
Mary:You know, I think I have to disagree with you, V. The cat has a safe home to go to, one that she is well familiar with (this is assuming, Meow, that your parents would agree to take her). I would suggest a defined timeline of trial with your boyfriend, say ninety days, after which the two of you assess where you are as cohabitants. After three years of dating, you clearly must have some compatibility as a couple, but you are right. Living under the same roof takes things up a notch, nomatter how long you’ve been with each other. You’re right to be cautious and not box yourselves in. The cat can always come back if things do not work out, and there are options for—
V:Yeah, but what happens if Captain Claritin decides it’s working? If the BF thinks he’s fine and dandy in that apartment, and she agrees, is that cat stuck in an empty house while those two parents drink mai tais on cruises until they get a case of Norwalk virus and come home crapping in their pants?
Mary:*blinks* How did we get diverted onto stomach viruses?
V:Because her stupid parents are on cruises all the time and those ships are like petri dishes with anchors, true.
Mary:You are making assumptions—
V:No. I traced her email address. I know for sure that is what they do. They’re on one now. To Alaska.
Mary:*puts hands over eyes* Tell me you did not dox one of our letter writers.
V:I’m not revealing the information. So, it’s not doxing.
Mary:Okaaaaaaay, I’d like to take this opportunity to reassure our letter writers that we do not break any confidences nor do anything outside of answer the questions posed to us.
V:*lights hand-rolled* Just keep telling yourself that, Mary. Whatever helps you sleep at night, true.
Mary:I’m going to have to take this up with Wrath.
*long silence as they stare at each other*
V:Back to the cat—
Mary:Back to the cat—
V:I think you need to protect the interests of the animal. If you did not intend to put that cat’s needs first, you never should have taken her out of your parents’ home. She is on the old side. You can’t explain to her what’s going on. Too often, humans are fickle with their decisions as it relates to animals. You already have a roommate. It’s the cat. You wouldn’t expect a human living with you to tolerate being kicked out because a better deal came along. Yet because the cat can’t express her needs and wants to you verbally, you’re tossing her out on her a**, expecting her to suck up your Important Life Decision. And hey, yeah, sure, if it doesn’t work out with the guy, you’ll just move her back in. Like she’s a fucking toaster. That’s just wrong.
