MiL will arrive with BiL at some point early afternoon on Christmas day, they’ll eat loads of food and probably stay overnight. FiL died a few years ago, and she’s lonely without him, so Mrs Tyred and her brother make sure she’s not on her own as much as they can. She knits endlessly, drones on in pitiless detail about what happened in the butchers the other day, her recent toilet activity, the cake table disputes at the running club and all the notable big lorries that have driven her village in the last week or so, but she’s lovely and no bother to have around. She’s happy with whatever everyone else wants to watch.
Can’t handle my own mum on Christmas day – she’s ace in all other regards, but just goes a bit mad for Christmas day. Some years ago we all went away for a few days (as opposed to everyone descending on us for the day) so Mrs Tyred and I would have less work and everyone could pitch in. It was way more work. Same stuff, less well-equipped house. My mum and sister sat around half cut most of the time, berating us for not relaxing enough as we fed and generally attended to our small, demanding children. And that’s not including the swarm of small flies which invaded the dinner table. “Why aren’t you eating that dessert your sister made? SHE MADE IT HERSELF!!!!” The Christmas We Do Not Speak Of. Since then, my family have been restricted to Boxing day. They’re fine then.