A well meaning relative can do more harm than good

Auntie Polly is my husband's older sister.   Her own kids are grown ups now, and she is semi-retired. 

Every Friday, she visits our house to help my husband take care of the kids while I work.  Well, I don't mean to be ungrateful, but I am.  Afterall, she is helping my husband and not me.  The kids are having fun, because she lets them do crazy things that I don't let them do, such as pulling out every single cushion and pillows to build a tent or house.  Well, as a result of her creativity, I almost got taken to the hospital last night.

I finish work at 7:30pm every Friday, and get home around 7:45pm.  I usually shower first, then get snacks for the kids and prepare them for bedtime.  Then as I empty my lunch bag in the kitchen, I scan for damages, mess and 'changes'.   When I say changes, I mean new pictures on the kitchen wall.

My sister-in-law has creative talents when it comes to kids and art.  She and the kids draw pictures, make crafts, and put them on the wall!  Since 4 months ago, they started making something using popsicle sticks, and it requires glue, and glue residue is usually left on the breakfast table.  The components of the mysterious project can be found on the table, floor, and chairs.  And our breakfast area is getting a bit clogged with artwork right now.  

Despite my numerous complaints to my husband, he hasn't done anything to deter anyone from re-decorating our kitchen.

Last night, I was stressed as usual as I tried to eat dinner, clean the mess, and play with the kids at the same time.  I am usually in a hurry as I have 1 hour before the 9pm show starts.  While I was eating dinner last night, my esophagus started burning, and I couldn't breathe, either through the mouth or nose.  I was sure no food was stuck in my throat or esophagus and I was not choking.  My stomach started to burn and it extended to the back.  It felt like my insides was on fire.  I was very scared, but somehow managed to find my husband to tell him I was sick.  Then I collapsed on the floor.  I was still conscious, and could see my husband and kids surrounding me, but I just couldn't talk, as I had trouble breathing and I was in such pain.

I didn't know how long I was sitting on the floor, but after a while, I felt better and was able to describe to my husband what happened.  We both agree I should call the family doctor first thing on Monday.

Well, a temporary solution is to eat dinner at work on Friday, so when I come home, I just focus on cleaning up the mess. 





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