The fun continues.
Friday. This is the big race night. It’s cloudy and cool. No one knows for sure if there will be a race, or how it will work as far as qualifying races. People are hungover. Big-time.
MIL is picking up sticks on the campground on her way to the bathrooms. She’s fussing. She’s fidgiting. She’s talking non-stop. I’m losing my mind.
Mid-afternoon they decide they will have the race. They’ll have qualifying, then they’ll run the normal Friday night program, then they’ll have the big race. Bad news. Because of the rain-out, the sponsor is only going to pay 2/3 of the purses. Now the $10,000 to win has gone to $6,666.66. YS should have gotten $560 just to finish the race in any position, now that is cut, too. People are grumpy and grumbling. This isn not turning out to be a happy thing.
Everyone figures it could be a very late night. Hubby wants to take a nap. I’m smart. I go to the back bedroom and lay down and close the door. He’s a glutton for punishment. He lays on the couch to sleep. He tells me later he can hear his mom fussing. She is opening cupboards and closing them and shuffling things around. He feels her pulling something out from under his head as he is sleeping. WTF? She leaves the RV. BANG! She can’t close the door quietly. Oh, forget that… BANG! BANG! It wasn’t closed.
I had a good nap.
The races went well, considering. YS got 7th. He wasn’t that happy because he’d hoped to do better. Because of the purses being cut, he only ended up getting $100 dollars more than he was supposed to get for just finishing the race originally. Grrrr… Oh, did I mention MIL picking up trash on the track after the race? Hubby was fit to be tied.
Saturday. We debate what we’re doing. YS takes car and goes home to do some work on it before his normal race tonight. He’s the track points leader and wants to keep that lead.
We go into town to pick up a couple of things and swing by a friends’ shop. Hubby gets out to talk to the guy. I’m in the front seat of the pickup, MIL in the backseat. She has a newspaper.
MIL: Would you like to see the newspaper?
Me: No, thank you – I’m fine.
MIL: (showing me the paper) There is a garden section…
Me: That’s okay, I may look at it later
MIL: (leaning into the front again to show me another page) See?
Me: Uh-huh. Maybe later.
MIL: Hmmm… man killed in boating accident on lake…
WTF???? She’s now reading the paper to me. Kill me now.
We decide to go camp at the track where YS races every Saturday night. As long as we have the RV out and about and I’ve got lots of supplies, we’ll just extend the trip. Except for MIL, it’s been fun.