Damn. I forgot about this thread until it got resurrected by Slorch.
My wife's grandfather passed away 10+ years ago. My in-laws inherited his "fish camp". Double-wide trailer on Toledo Bend. They've done a great job fixing it up, built a nice metal barn with a 1-bedroom apartment above, new pier and floating dock, etc, but it's still an East Texas double-wide trailer. In-laws are both retired now, so they spend damn near half their time there. They love it. For the last 5+ years, we've spent the 4th of July there. We'd probably go there more often, but it's a 5-1/2 hr drive and tough to justify for a long weekend. Plus, accommodations are tight, even when it's just our family of five. It's usually a nice getaway and something different for our kids. My oldest loves to fish, so he's in heaven. In-laws love having us up there and usually cook some fantastic meals. I have a BIL as well, and he's typically come up there for a day or so over that timeframe.
Only downside is that the place has had somewhat of a black cloud over it. Four years ago, my middle son tripped and cut his head open on the floor vent of the double wide trailer. 9 stitches at the Jasper ER. Two years ago, my oldest son almost lost his pinky finger when the tow rope of the tube my FIL was pulling got wrapped around his finger. Fileted it to the bone. 27 stitches but avoided surgery. It was nasty. So, again, this place is a good / bad place for us. Chalk this year up to a bad experience. I guess we're in a biennial cycle.
Within the past three months, BIL has gotten engaged. He's 33. She's 30. She has two kids that are 16 and 13. You do the math. Two different daddies (obviously). They're getting engaged, and my wife volunteered to host the wedding and volunteered me to cater it and officiate it. This was a result of them "not having any money" even though he makes $80K+/yr and she has a decent job as a phlebotomist. That's a little back story for what went down over the 4th.
All four of them are coming up the day after us. My family is now cramming in the 3-bedroom double wide with the in-laws, and BIL and his family has the 1-BR apartment. They have the better set-up, but we're fine on our end. I have a special needs son who needs his own room, so my wife and I are in another small bedroom, our daughter is on a pallet at the foot of our bed and my oldest is going to sleep on the couch in the living room. All good.
Upon arrival, soon-to-be SIL walks up and first words out of her mouth to me are, "did your brother-in-law tell you that he knocked me up?". Awesome. Let's break out the champagne. Their two shit-head boxers come barreling around the corner and immediately start fucking with my lab who's one of the most laid-back chill dogs ever. They instantly start growling and biting at him and we have to separate them. And they bring their cat. Who the fuck travels with a cat?
Shit (kind of) settles down, and they want to do their cake tasting in preparation for the wedding. My wife made six different mini cakes for them to try so they could choose which ones they wanted for the bride & groom cake. This was a logistical feat just to transport them to the lake. BIL takes his first bite, spits it out, and says "this tastes like ass, it has carrots in it". Well, no shit. It's a fucking carrot cake. My wife bites her tongue, but you can see it starting to fester.
Later that evening, my son and the 13 YO soon-to-be cousin are out fishing on the dock. We see my son walking back at a brisk pace. He comes walking up with tears welling up in his eyes. He's shirtless, and he turns around. He has a topwater lure with BOTH treble hooks firmly embedded in his back. Dipshit cousin thinks he can out-fish / out-cast my son and is trying to show off and snags the shit out of him even though he was on the opposite side of the dock. I still don't know how it happened. Somehow, my FIL and I were able to get the treble hooks out. It required cutting off barbs and pushing them through the skin. He was brused and bleeding, but we avoided an ER visit. So, that was a small victory.
It's been an eventful day, so about 11 PM, my family is ready for bed. My oldest (treble hook victim) wants to go to sleep. We're shutting it down for the night. BIL throws a hissy fit because he can't stay up late and watch TV on the only TV in the joint (living room where my son is sleeping). He storms off to the barndominium cussing like a sailor. He tells me that he, "can't believe I'm raising such a pussy for a son." WHAT?!?!? I follow him up the hill and we exchange words. It didn't come to fisticuffs, but it's the closest I've come to slugging him.
Next day, things seem to have calmed down. After lunch, his boys want to go tubing. My son joins. BIL is nowhere to be found. I drag them around the lake for 2+ hours. We have a great time. We come back and I'm ready for a cold beer. I come in and BIL is asleep on the couch in the middle of the living room. I'm trying to be the bigger man and I try to be quiet, but somehow I wake him and he says, "can you make any more noise?" It's fucking on. I go out on the patio and crank up some Willie Nelson. I turn it up to 11 ten feet from where he's sleeping. FUCK. HIM.
My wife is helping my MIL to prep for the evening's fish fry. My wife is making dip. Now roused from his slumber, BIL comes to take a bite while she's still prepping it and proceeds to tell her how fucking disgusting it is. My wife (who is an incredible cook) loses her shit. She drags him outside. I miss the start of this b/c I'm pitching washers and enjoying Willie. All I catch is him calling her a "ThunderCunt". While that's an awesome insult, it's not so awesome when it's directed to your wife. I drop my washers and set down my beer, but by the time I get over there, my wife is on him like a spider monkey. She is lambasting this poor, pathetic dipshit with the full fury of 33 years of pent up anger. I just sat back and watched. Soon-to-be SIL comes out and gets caught in the crossfire from my wife. She gets an ear full as well. It was a thing of beauty.
BIL and SIL head up the hill to the barndominium. Thank goodness, all of our kids are out on the dock with FIL and missed the shit storm. BIL comes back down, tail between his legs, a few hours later and apologizes profusely. Says he's off his meds, stressed out by the new kid on the way and the wedding and SIL just lost her job. Whatever. Doesn't give you an excuse to act like an asshole. They leave the next morning. The rest of the stay was peaceful and quiet and we caught fish and swam and did all the normal lake things.
So, as it stands now, we're still hosting the wedding. Invites have been sent and my wife didn't want it to seem like she was the bitch that caused the shit storm. Also, my MIL is the consummate enabler and basically guilted my wife into keeping it on the calendar. BUT, we're not catering for them. And I'm not officiating. And neither of us want anything to do with him for the foreseeable future other than the wedding. And, I booked them a room at the JW Marriott for the night of the wedding using my points. And that's been cancelled. The end.