Give. Me. Strength.

Michael's stepmother... Jesus Christ.

One of the first things I noticed is that the big framed picture of an infant Michael which has been in his father's bedroom as long as I've known him has been moved to a rarely-used back room, where it hangs in a place which is blocked from most points in the room by a cabinet.

Then in the course of our first 24 hours visiting, she:

- Tried to convince me to take Michael's bronzed baby shoes home, because God forbid there be any memories of his childhood on display.
- Asked me when I was going to wean.
- Said in the snottiest voice imaginable, "Don't you teach him 'no'?" when I moved several small glass-framed photographs off a floor-level shelf. She never put anything out of her babies' or grandbabies' reach.
- Went on two different diatribes about how awful Obama is. Not to mention Michelle, who buys all those expensive clothes while being BLACK, so it's totally not like any other First Lady ever. She seems very disappointed that we're not rising to the bait.

It's only a four-day visit. I can make it, right?

Right?