Well, would you believe it? We had to change the locks to stop my mother-in-law from treating our flat like her own.
My husband and I have been married a year now, and ever since, his mother has struggled to accept that he made a choice that didnt fit her grand plan. You see, shed dreamt of marrying him off to some billionaires daughter so hed live in luxuryand take her along for the ride. Where she got such ambitions, Ill never know. Truth is, were just ordinary working folk. At first, we tightened our belts, took out a loan, and now we live in my old studio while renting out our new flat. Next goal? A car. Nothing extravagant, just getting by like most young couples.
But my mother-in-law refuses to face reality, clinging to her fantasies instead. Shes dead set on wrecking our marriage, and her methods? Downright inventive. Shed smear lipstick on my husbands shirts, leave his clothes reeking of perfume, and slip condoms into my handbag. Naturally, it led to rows, suspicion, bitter words. Thank goodness we always uncovered her tricks in timebut the damage lingered.
Not long ago, my husband had to leave for a few months to set up a new branch in another city. A career opportunity, so we agreed. He went, I stayed, and all was welluntil I started noticing odd things. Items moved, cupboards rummaged through. At first, I thought maybe hed popped back for something, since it wasnt far. I rang himhe was just as baffled, swore he hadnt returned. An hour later, he called back, voice grim. He reckoned it was his mother. Before his trip, hed given her our keys just in case and forgotten to take them back.
The next day, I took leave from work and had the locks changed at once. I warned my husbandif he handed our keys to anyone again, hed be sleeping on the landing. That evening, everything was undisturbed. So it *had* been her. I checked the cupboards andwould you believe it?found a tiny camera tucked atop a shelf.
I rang my husband straight away. Silence, then he burst out laughingutter madness. I scoured the flat just in case, but thankfully, that was all. No scene, no fuss; he asked me to wait till he returned to handle it himself.
And wouldnt you know? The very next day, my mother-in-law called. She mustve realised her keys no longer worked and wanted in. Asked if I was home, fancying a quick cup of tea. I told her no, but wed have that cuppa another time. Half an hour later, my husband rang to say shed complained to himclaiming I was gallivanting who-knows-where, leaving the house empty.
We nearly laughed ourselves silly. Started placing bets on what excuse shed try next. She didnt disappointringing daily with some new tale. A parcel wrongly delivered to us, her spectacles left behind, or just popping round with fresh pastries.
When my husband finally returned, she announced she was paying a visit. We braced ourselves. In she marched, clutching a bag of croissants, pretending to wash her handsthen bolted straight for the bedroom. We followed, of course. And there she was, rifling through the wardrobe. She stammered when she saw us. My husband pulled the camera from his pocket and held it up.
Thenwell, all hell broke loose. She shrieked that I was cheating, lying to her son, that he was too soft-hearted. Even staged a grand performancetears, clutching her chest like she might keel over. Finally, she stormed out, slamming the door like some wronged saint.
Honestly, I nearly applauded. A show like that, no rehearsal. But this was just one battle. The war isnt over. Still, we held our ground this timemade it clear our home isnt a stage for her absurd theatrics.
