You know them: Raymond and his wife Deborah (and their cute kids, a daughter and younger twin boys), Raymond’s parents: Frank and Marie, and of course, his police officer brother, Robert.

Oddly, though, in my real-life scenario, I’m Deborah-meets-Raymond (yes, a funny yet under-appreciated housewife/writer that, try as I might, just can’t cook like my mother-in-law…no matter how much “love” I try to add) yet I’m married to Frank, dry sense of humor and all; just feed him and everything will be okay.

My mother-in-law is Marie—classic Marie. My father-in-law will have to be Robert (see, just like Robert, he gets whatever is left). He’s incredibly clumsy, quiet, and very easy going, though maybe that makes him Raybert…remember that episode?).

True Story: My in-laws are planning on moving to our land (it’s actually their land) but they want to be closer to the water and, most importantly, their new grandchild (if only we had twin boys). They will be in walking distance, less than half a mile, door-to-door.

I’m excited, actually. (Just like Deborah was in the early stages, before she knew better.) They’ll be so close that they can babysit, come over for dinner—or maybe we should go there—and…did I mention, “babysit”.

Marie, I mean Caroline, can bring over chocolate cake and clean our house while she’s here. She already does that, you know. She points out the dust I missed, and I just smile and say, “Thanks, Marie.”

I love her, and her husband, even though he’s Robert, which is kind of weird, but no stranger than Deborah being married to Frank (insert offensive, unwelcomed joke here).