;) My grandmother sounds very similar to your Mother-In-Law. She sees herself as just the kindest thing around, but in truth she manipulates all of her children and most of her grandchildren through intense amounts of emotional guilt. You know what I mean, the sigh that happens just after she mentions how much she wishes that the kids could have come to her house instead of visiting their other grandparents. Or the casual mention of how lonely she's going to be if you don't come over.

It drives all of her sons & daughters in law crazy.

Oddly enough I'm the only one of her descendants she doesn't do that to.

Now as for your dealing with those who giggle and laugh at the kilt, I usually take a few lessons from grandma! :grin: I assume an air of superiority and manage to patronize and intimidate them verbally until they are the ones who fell silly. I'm not a man of violence, never have been. I'm only 5' 8", I'm overweight now and if I'm out and about I'm usually in a wheelchair or walking with a cane. But I've never let anyone, no matter how big or how belligerant, intimidate me.

I've always found that the person ignorant enough to make fun of someone else for no reason also backs down the minute they don't get the intended response from the victim.

Of course, I've also been told that I have such an air of self-assurance that it gives those prone to violence the impression that I must be armed! ;) Go figure.

Or it could be the guardian angel Grandma says accompanies me. I've definitely been in spots where it seemed like it was only through angelic intervention that I was saved.

Here's an interesting and true story for you. Once, when my spouse was still working for the Transit Police, he was assigned to a metro station that didn't have any fast-food joints or restaurants nearby. So I drove over and stopped off at a McDonalds on the way to pick him up dinner. Well, the neighborhood is incredibly bad and overrun with gangs. When I was at the register paying, I was standing with the aid of a cane. A "crew" came up and surrounded me on 3 sides (the register was in front of me) and commented on my attire. My response was that having lost the use of my leg as a firefighter on 9-11 I felt I had the right to wear anything I pleased. I also stood up to my full (but short) height and tried not to slouch as I tucked my wallet back into my sporran. Oddly enough these gang members immediately got a kind of puzzled look on their faces and began asking questions about my time in the fire department. I finally had to tell them that I needed to go drop of my spouses dinner before it got cold because they kept wanting to hear stories about my fire department days. I'm not sure how a potential mugging turned into a fan club meeting, and from the looks of the other patrons and the employees they were startled by what was happening.

But I guess since I wasn't scared or intimidated and gave them a good reason to respect me, they backed off and turned back into the kids that they really were.