Sometimes the enemy living under the same roof 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 far too often, with such persistence that even the mailman paid her fewer visits.
I was sorting groceries in the kitchen pantry when the doorbell rang. I opened it. Of course it was MarieClaude, my motherinlaw.
Élodie, hello, I made some meatballs! Lottestyle! Fresh from the kitchen! she announced, thrusting a plastic container toward me.
I sighed. My husband and I have hated fish since childhood. I was fed it from the cradle, and he, the son of a fisherman, ate so much that he might have sprouted gills. Wed talked about it several times. Yet MarieClaude acted as if it were no issue.
MarieClaude, we dont eat fish you know that, I said.
But you cant just throw it away! Keep it, someone will appreciate it! she replied.
It wasnt just the cursed meatballs. Her visits grew more frequent, unannounced, unknocked, as if she owned the place, and she began her inspections:
Oh, whats this cheese? Ive never tried it, let me have a bite. And some salami, toogo buy more later. By the way, I brought fishsharing is caring!
With each stop, her appetite expanded. One day she arrived with a friend, no invitation, no request.
We were at the pharmacy, wanted to warm up a bit. Can you get us coffee? she asked.
While I stood frozen at the doorway, she was already rummaging through the fridge, pulling out jam, cheese, biscuits, while her companion settled at the table.
I felt like an outsider in my own house. My husband raised his hands, Its Mom, shes sweet. Sweet? Id seen her hide our pineapple under her coat. This was no help or kindnessit was brazen intrusion.
So I hatched a gentle but precise plan. The next day I took my friend Nathalie, bought the spiciest sushi in the neighborhood, and, without warning, walked to MarieClaudes.
Hello, we were nearby and thought wed drop by! We brought sushiplease try, I said, thrusting the platter into her hands with a smile.
MarieClaude turned pale. She hates sushi; after one bite she forever called it raw rats on rice.
Take a seat, Ill see what good things you have, too, I continued, moving toward her fridge.
I laid out couscous, a Piémontese salad, a cakeeverything spread across the table. Nathalie burst into laughter.
Oh, MarieClaude, isnt it nice to exchange food? I brought sushi, after all, I added with feigned innocence.
She stood rooted, speechless, finally grasping what it feels like to have someone impose themselves in your home.
I left, thanking her for the warm welcome and promising to return soon.
Since then things have changed. She now calls before coming over, her visits are few and discreet, and she even brings things we truly likeno more fish. Sometimes you dont need a big fight; a simple mirror is enough.
The Nosy Mother-in-Law Arrived Unannounced for My ‘Homecoming’ Celebration
