Yesterday at my mum's: nagging her because she has a small pile of unopened items in a cupboard and how completely terrible she hasn't used or sold them; snapping at me "it's not funny" when I started to giggle with mum at how long mum had had some of those items; proclaiming that there is only one proper way to store Christmas decs and that is in a labelled box in the attic like she does and how can anyone bear to do it another way; telling me firmly "those are not boy's sheets" (pink - mum was offloading some and ASD son needs more sheets - I would give him the option anyway) and implying my son is bisexual [and happily with a male partner atm] because I didn't gender police him firmly enough as a child like she does with her butch footie playing sons and girly daughter dedicated to clothes and hair; banging on about our late grandmother (who died in 1982, btw) was "small minded, bigoted and lazy" - because she didn't bother much with housework having grown up with a mother with OCD who literally never left the house because she spent every waking hour cleaning); slipping in how she is out at work 13 hours a day so "doesn't have time" to organise a family holiday (MIL does it for her apparently) - yeah, I'm out nearly as much - and more of it working not travelling, that's life.
Cherry on the cake, I mentioned an acquaintance who has major alcohol problems [after a trauma whose details I couldn't mention for privacy reasons but was horrible and repeated] "what trauma's so great she can't just get over it".
Must be lovely to be perfect and able to tell everyone else how to run their lives. I still recall her sententiously lecturing me on how to handle my autistic son, who she sees perhaps twice a year, because I clearly so badly needed her advice and could only see his disability.
Yes, yes, I'm probably horrible myself for moaning about it here, but ARGHHHHHH.
Get some self-awareness at least, why don't you?