I don't know how much more I can take of Mother's digs against our youngest child, two-year-old Kylen James, whom we adopted from Egypt when he was just about a year and a half old.

Mother continues to make disparaging comments about my baby boy's coloring or the fact that he isn't "white" like Jim, Cinda Kay (our six-year-old daughter, whom she spoils incessantly), or myself.  It is enough to make me want to scream!!

Christmas morning was a disaster.  Oh, Cinda loved the extravagent dollhouse that her grandma and grandpa Newkirk got her, but all she got for Kylen James were some socks and underwear, as well as shoes.  No toys.  None whatsoever.

Of course, you can probably figure out how Kylen James reacted. 

He cried.  Oh, Lord, how he cried!

I tried to keep the peace, but I decided I had enough.  I told Jim to take Cinda outside, so she could play in the snow; I didn't want my daughter to hear what I was going to say to his mother.  I also told him to take Kylen with them.

Once Jim and the children were safely out of the house,  I lit into Mother with both barrels blazing.  I was so mad I was seeing red; it was all I could do to keep from physically hurting my mother-in-law.  It was clear that she was a racist:  she hated anyone who wasn't white (or more appropriately, rich like she and Father were).  She hated her grandson because he was black; she continually refused to accept him as her grandchild.  She often referred to him as a "monkey".

Father Newkirk tried to tell me I was not being reasonable, but I didn't give him a chance to talk.  I just screamed at them for a good half hour; when I was done, I was sobbing uncontrollably, and I told them if they didn't leave right now I was going to call the police on them.

They really didn't say anything; all they did was stand there and stare at me.  I guess it is because they didn't think I had enough guts to tell them what I really thought of them.  Well, I did, and they were surprised.

I guess Jim knew his parents were boorish, rude, and obnoxious, but he was afraid to speak up, for fear that they might disown him; he tried to accept it as best as he knew how.  I apologized to him for acting like a spoiled brat, but my sanity was at stake:  his in-laws rankled me for as long as I could remember.  I guess they couldn't accept me because I didn't go to college to have a career; I was nothing more than a lowly housewife in their eyes.

I was happy being a parent; I loved my kids, both of them, but not enough to spoil the one and totally ignore the other one, just because he was "different" and came from a foreign country.

After I got done yelling to where I lost my voice, Jim told me that he'd talk to his parents about how they treated Kylen.  I told them it wouldn't do no good:  a leopard can't change his spots; why should I expect Mother to do the same?  She was loud, rude, obnoxious, and incredibly nosy:  she had to know every little detail of what went on in other people's lives instead of focusing on her own (unless it involved money or vacationing around the world).

I guess Jim knew how I felt.  He calmly but firmly told Mother and Father that if they didn't change, he was going to have to ask them to leave because they ruined Christmas, not only for him, but for me and the kids as well.  If they couldn't accept their grandson because he was "black", then they were not welcome to come to our house any longer.  He didn't want them poisoning the kids' minds with their racial bullcrap.

That did it.  Mother called for a taxi; they were going to go back to Seattle, Washington.  They were never coming back to see us again; they'd had more than enough.  Well, the feeling was likewise in my honest opinion:  I had had enough of them, too.  More than enough.

I couldn't wait until that taxi came; then I wouldn't have to put up with Mother's stupid ideas any longer.  Only then did Jim realize just how much of a pain in the ass (make that asses) his parents were.

*To be continued.*