Breaking and Entering is OK with Islam

I must warn you that today's blog is PO Rated, slanted, biased, and all around ready to blow. I was going to wait to write this until I could find a calm perspective, but damnit there just isn't one. (The alternatives just make me more PO'd.) As a courtesy to my husband, the best man I ever met,I have refrained from mentioning family members by name, not today...MINIRE!!!!

My sister-in-law is one of the evilest, vilest, creatures ever born, and that includes folklore. But until today I kept that my opinion to myself, as a sometimes nice Southern girl, instead preferring to say, 'we don't speak'. Well no more!

My beer guzzling, pork chowing hubby is somehow always viewed as the black sheep by his more and more devout family. Especially, by his holier-than-thou sister, Minire. She doesn't drink, she doesn't smoke (hates all females that do, and yeah that includes other female muslims/family members), and she never has a good word to say about anybody. What she does do is: BREAKING AND ENTERING! Yeah, you read that right. Apparently, somehow in a hidden passage of the Quran, it is ok to just take a peek in someone else's house. Her words exactly were, "I just wanted to see what color they painted the walls..." I shit you not!

Now, I should say that she was a previous owner to that property. A property that she sold to us on September 1st, to save her from yet another ok with Islam, foreclosure, caused by the refusal to pay your mortgage if it's inconvenient. Now, we had a closing, we had the discussion pointing out the fact that if you were paid for a property, and your butt is saved from said foreclosure, the property is no longer yours.

I should also point out, she never the mortgage on said property once, as she happily expected her son to pay her bills for all eternity. Unfortunately that no-so-attractive son of hers had other plans. Including the marriage to a too-pretty-for-him woman that promptly spouted out three children faster than a jackrabbit. Apparently, too-pretty-for-him baby machine was ok with the arrangement of forever housing mama, until mommy dearest refused to babysit for free, and then, well...you can see how well that went.

Which brings us to the current dilemna. Bitchy mama was losing her house, we were begged to step in and save her from public embarrassment, and thus we all went to the aforementioned closing. At that closing, we gave money, papers were signed, and keys and garage opener were remanded.

But was it the day of reckoning for Brumhilde? No, in a sly little pocket of her witch's gown, there lie a key.... Today, that key was used. I hope with all my heart that that was the first time it was used, but I simply don't believe it. The worst thing is, not how she could have me cost me my real estate license, or even the fact that we could have been named as parties to her little broomflying ride on the wild side. The worst thing is the poor, incredibly terrified tenants.

Imagine, you hear a key scrape in the lock, but you think nothing of it, after all you are expecting your wife home at any minute. right? So, you continue undressing and slip on your oh, so not hip, but very comfy pjs to walk into your living room and find an intruder. You don't have a gun on your unsexy pjs (dang it), and you're not even sure what you seeing.

Strange lady, speaking no English, is casing your apartment, she's delving in your boxes, she's eying your flatscreen. What do you do? You shriek, she runs and you call, yours truly.

I say, "Call the police (never suspecting my FU'd sister-in-law, I mean I got those keys, right?) and I'll call a locksmith." Well, as it so happens the cops show up and the mysterious snooper woman show up simultaneously. Yeah, she returns to the scene of the crime, only next door, with teenage niece in hand, and acting completely oblivious to the pointing fingers from the rent house across the driveway.

Suddenly, no one speaks English, my tenant is frantic on the phone, accusing me of being in cahoots with the snooping demon, and I'm in Florida wanting to commit my own form of jihad. Thank god for the distance, or I'd never get off that Homeland Security spooky kook list.

Long story short...Tons of frantic pleading (mostly for my own behind), mention that my sister-in-law (never mention she may or may not be working for Mohammed) is the daughter of satan and certifiably insane. Tenants are leary (who wouldn't be?), hubby's family mysteriously relearns the English language, and the God-bless-Americans Tenants, don't press charges, YET!

I hope we all learned something from this...doubtful.