Family crisis is brewing and I am the one that plugged in the coffee pot.
Holidays with the in-laws have been a bit strained since the arrival of the grankids because of a deteriorating relationship between the MIL and SIL. I am from the scream-it-out/hug-it-out school of thinking. I don't like living with all that added anxiety since I can think up millions of anxiety-inducing issues at the drop of a hat (Will they notice my kitchen floor is dirty? Is The Girl getting enough grains in her diet? I forgot my baby on the bus!). So I sent an email to MIL, FIL, SIL, BIL & The Hubby, simply titled Thanksgiving. Harmless enough...until you open it and I start dishing out helpings of anger and bitchiness. I do believe I used the words "territorial pissing match" in regard to the fight for where dinner is to be held. So, yes people, I stirred the pot. The husband was not angry, just a little dismayed. "Why couldn't you just leave it alone?" he asked. "I like to pick scabs," I answered.
Then the whole thing blew up like the Springfield nuclear reactor on Homer's watch. The SIL sent a blistering email that laid the problem in the lap of our MIL. And she sent it "Reply All." Oh fuck. I sent her a quick note asking if she knew she hit reply all, and yes, she did, not wanting anyone to get the story "2nd or 3rd hand."
Well. That didn't go over well. Maybe I should rethink my career aspirations as a mediator. More to come, no doubt.