B picked up from his friends, dog dropped off at in-laws and we're off to my Brother's, supposedly to stay thie night. Yes, with kids in tow. I'm dreading it.
The beer isn't going down well, but the food is. The 8 week old grandson arrives, and he's not well, although his lungs are working perfectly. Then some other friends of my brother's arrive, and I'm starting to feel, well, not right.
Ok, depressed, there I said it. I'm sat in the kitchen by myself nearly in tears, and I don't know why.
The kids are behaving almost normally so its not that.
I tell D and we make our excused and leave. We'd been there nearly 5 hours so it wasn't a quick visit by any stretch. D was initially understanding, but on the ride home I got the silent treatment. She didn't know if she was mad with me? HUH? I'm feeling crap, she got what she wants, and I get the grief? Then as we pull into the driveway M says "that was a wasted journey". Ungrateful little shit.
All of them are now in bed and again I'm wondering what the fuck I'm doing still putting up with this shit?