The meddlesome motherinlaw turned up as if she owned the place, right up to the point where I finally gave her a taste of her own medicine.
Sometimes the enemy in the household isnt a stranger at all, but a wellmeaning motherinlaw with a smile and a Tupperware full of suspicious meatballs. Im Élodie, married for two years, and everything seemed fine between my husband and me until his mother started warming up our home a little too often, with such persistence that even the mailcarrier showed up less often than she did.
I was sorting groceries in the kitchen pantry when the doorbell rang. I opened it. Of course it was MarieClaude, my motherinlaw.
Élodie, hello! Ive made fish ballsfresh from the sea! she chirped, holding out her plastic container.
I sighed. My husband and I have hated fish since childhood. I was fed it to the point of nausea as a baby, and he, the son of a fisherman, ate so much that he might have grown gills. Wed talked about it many times. Yet MarieClaude acted as if nothing were wrong.
MarieClaude, we dont eat fish you know that, I said.
But you cant just toss it! Keep it, someone will enjoy it, she protested.
It wasnt only the cursed meatballs. She began arriving more and more, unannounced, without even knocking, stepping in as if it were her own home and starting her inspections:
Oh, whats this cheese? Ive never tried itlet me have a bite. And some salami, too; youll go buy more later. By the way, I brought fishsharing is caring!
With each visit her appetite grew. One day she turned up with a friend, no call, no request.
We were at the pharmacy and wanted to warm up a bit. Can you treat us to coffee?
While I stood frozen on the doorstep, she was already rummaging through the fridge, pulling out jam, cheese, biscuits, while her companion settled comfortably at the table.
I felt like a stranger in my own house. My husband raised his arms, Its Mom, shes sweet. Sweet? Id seen her hide our pineapple under her coat. What had started as help had become brazen intrusion.
So I devised a gentle but precise plan. The next day I took my friend Nathalie, bought the spiciest sushi in the neighborhood, and, without warning, marched to MarieClaudes.
Hello, we were passing by and thought wed drop in! We brought sushiplease try! I said, thrusting the platter into her hands with a smile.
MarieClaude turned pale. She hates sushi; after one terrible bite shes called it raw rats on rice.
Please sit down, Ill see what good things you have too, I added, walking toward her fridge.
I pulled out couscous, a Piémontese salad, a cakeeverything landed on the table. Nathalie was already laughing.
MarieClaude, dont you think its only fair we exchange gifts? I brought sushi after all, I said, feigning innocence.
She stood frozen, speechless, finally understanding what it felt like to have someone impose themselves at home.
I left, thanking her for the warm welcome and promising to return soon.
Since then everything has changed. She now calls before she comes, her visits are infrequent and discreet, and she even brings things we actually likeno more fish. Sometimes you dont need a big fight; just holding up a mirror is enough.
