Fucking Outlaws! (UPDATED)

This'll teach me for thinking I'd won one for once! Bastards!

Having wiggled out of the annual trip to the panto with the outlaws tomorrow (the torture of which is exacerbated by the fact that it's a church trip, so you have to go on a bus full of bible-bashers) I was feeling pretty proud of my negotiating tactics.

But now MIL has suggested that He and I get a lift over to her house with Cuck and Riptorn at noon, and we then sit around on our own at hers all afternoon while they're all at the panto, all so that we can have a takeaway Chinese (which I hate and wouldn't eat even if I wasn't on a healthy-eating kick) with them in the evening while they discuss doubtless fascinating topics like the quality of local schools and how much bloody money they've spent on bloody Christmas buying over the top presents for their spoilt children!

And He wants to do this! Why? Why?

And more importantly, how can I get out of it?!

UPDATE:

The good news: by pointing out to Him that He might infect the whole family with his evil virus, I have persuaded Him we shouldn’t go tomorrow!

The bad news: I had to suggest we invite them all over next month instead (doooooom!!)