Dear Martha Stewart:

I had the inlaws over for dinner last night. We invited them for Sunday but they changed plans and it was no longer convenient. They were, however, free Saturday afternoon. Dh's stepdad said he wanted bean soup. Ok. I've never had someone tell me what they wanted when inviting them to dinner but ok. I'd have to make something in addition to bean soup because MIL won't eat it. Whatever.
Dh asked if they could pick up his grandma and bring her. That was fine.
Dh called grandma and invited her. She's been calling him lately saying she is very lonely and her back hurts and she's generally unhappy. (Quick history: Her 53 y.o. useless son, dh's sperm donor father, had a stroke last July. He's in a nursing home living his life exactly the way he wants it... right down to someone wiping his ass for him. He's got a phone, tv, vcr and yet grandma has to go feed him his lunch every day. She's 80-something. She sold her house and moved into a retirement home where her lifelong friends already live. But she blows them off everytime they ask her to join them so they don't ask anymore. Her life is consumed with her lowlife, scum sucking son and it's killing her.)
She declined the offer. Dh called his mom and told her not to pick her up. Less than five minutes later she called back and said she would come but that she would call in the afternoon if she wasn't feeling better. Dh called his mom back. A little later grandma calls again and tells dh she can't come because "your daddy has a tummy ache". So? For heaven's sake woman, he's 53 freaking years old. Four year olds get "tummy aches".
Again...whatever.
So MIL&FIL finally get here at 5:20. They were supposed to be here between 4 -4:30 and they are the king and queen of punctuality. They come in the door complaining about how long it took to get here. (They live 30 minutes away... 45 if there's any traffic. However, we only get invited to their "holiday house" which is 1½ hours away.) They come bearing gifts: some breakfast hot pockets and two dubious bbq rib shaped sandwiches and a card game for dd. Dh entertains while I finish cooking. BTW, I made the bean soup. I soaked the beans and cooked them for over two hours. I put in 1/2 lb. of thick smoked bacon. It was perfection as far as I'm concerned.
I call them to the table and MIL immediately says she's not eating any of the soup. Fine. I knew that. FIL starts eating and then tells me he doesn't eat fatty meat anymore and digs out all the bacon. Then says the next time we visit them he'll make some real bean soup for me. He says he's found a really good brand of bean and bacon soup in a can at the dollar store.
Dear Martha, would I be remiss in my obligation as a hostess if I told him I hope he chokes on it?