The meddlesome motherinlaw started showing up as if she owned the place, right up to the point where I had to give her a taste of her own medicine.
Sometimes the enemy in a home isnt a stranger at all, but a motherinlaw with a sweet smile and a Tupperware full of dubious meatballs. Im Élodie, married for two years, and, as the saying goes, everything was fine between my husband and me until his mother began warming up our home far too often, with such persistence that even the mailman showed up less often than she did.
I was sorting the pantry when the doorbell rang. I opened it. Of course, it was MarieClaude, my motherinlaw.
Élodie, hello, Ive made some meatballs! Lotte style! Fresh from the kitchen! she chirped, thrusting a plastic container toward me.
I sighed. My husband and I have hated fish since we were kids. I was fed it from birth, and he, the son of a fisherman, ate so much he practically grew gills. Weve talked about itmany times. Yet MarieClaude acted as if it were no issue.
MarieClaude, we dont eat fish you know that, I said.
But you dont just throw it away! Keep it, someone will enjoy it! she replied.
It wasnt just the cursed meatballs. She began turning up more and more, unannounced, without even knocking, strolling in as if she owned the place and launching her inspections:
Oh, whats this cheese? Ive never tried it, let me have a bite. And a bit of salami toogo buy more later. By the way, I brought you some fishsharing is caring!
With each visit, her appetite grew. One day she arrived with a friend, no call, no permission.
We were at the pharmacywanted to warm up a bit. Can you buy us a coffee?
While I stood frozen at the doorway, she was already rummaging through the fridge, pulling out jam, cheese, biscuits, as her companion settled comfortably at the table.
I felt like an outsider in my own home. My husband raised his handsIts 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 plansoft yet precise. The next day I took my friend Nathalie, we bought the spiciest sushi in the neighborhood, and without warning we dropped by MarieClaudes.
Hi, we were passing by and thought wed stop by! We brought you sushiplease try! I said, sliding the platter into her hands with a smile.
MarieClaude went pale. She hates sushi. Once she tried it and has since called it raw rats on rice.
Take a seat, Ill see what good things you have too, I said, heading toward her fridge.
I laid out couscous, a Piémontese salad, a cakeall landing on the table. Nathalie was already laughing.
Oh, MarieClaude, does it bother you? I brought sushi, its only fair to exchange, right? I added, feigning innocence.
She froze, speechless, realizing what it felt like to have someone barge into her home uninvited.
I left, thanking her for the warm welcome, promising to return soon.
Since then everything has changed. She now calls before she comes, her visits are few and discreet. She even brings things we actually likeno more fish. Sometimes you dont need a fight; you just hold up a mirror.
