**A Week of Sausage: When My MotherinLaw Judges Our Servings**
**The sausage for the weekhow my motherinlaw ends up counting every bite**
It was midJuly when Hélène Lucienne was scrubbing the windows, shaking out the cushions and reminding her daughter that it was time to come out to the countrysidethe garlic was ready for harvest. Élodie tried to make excuses: work, obligations, the kids Yet her mother, as stubborn as ever, wouldnt let it go.
Summers almost over, and youre still cooped up in your Paris flat! she shouted over the phone, exasperated. The strawberries will spoil, the potatoes will turn green, and youre glued to your phones!
At last they settled on a weekend, just to lend a hand in the garden and enjoy a quiet evening.
Alexandre had no desire to make the trip. Their last visit had ended badly, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. He had simply asked for a little sausage to go with the couscousbut his motherinlaw had flatly refused. Shed been so curt that he was left speechless.
On Saturday they left early. Work went quickly: the garlic was pulled up, sorted and stored. All that remained was the evening, the dinner, and family chatter. Alexandre took a shower, then stepped into the kitchen. Élodie and her mother were setting the table, and the scent of couscous filled the room. To kill time, he opened the fridge, grabbed a few slices of sausage for a sandwichwhen suddenly
Dont touch that! Hélène Luciennes voice cut through the air like a gunshot.
The sausage was shoved back into the fridge. Alexandre froze, stunned.
Whats happening, Mom? Élodie asked, bewildered.
The sausage is for breakfast, with bread! Not before then. And dont ruin your appetite! the motherinlaw snapped.
Alexandre tasted the couscous, but there was no meat in it. He asked again for a bit of sausage. Another refusal.
Why this obsession? Hélène Lucienne exploded. Youve already eaten half of it! Do you know how much it costs? Its supposed to last the whole week!
He pushed his plate away. With his appetite gone, he went outside, lay down on the garden sofa, and stared at the ceiling. Élodie joined him later.
Lets go back. I cant stand this atmosphere. Every move is being watched, as if I were a thief. Im even scared to butter my toast too much, lest it be snatched from my hands.
There isnt even a grocery store here, Élodie murmured, embarrassed. Just the greengrocers van on Wednesdays.
We should have brought food instead of cherries and apricots, Alexandre muttered. Im leaving tomorrow. Ill pick you up later. Because without meat I wont last long.
Well leave together, Élodie declared firmly.
The next morning they drove back to Paris. Élodie lied to her mother, claiming a work emergency for Alexandre. The motherinlaw watched them go, her stare icy.
A year passed. They never set foot in Hélène Luciennes house again, but she visited them without hesitation. Strangely, she opened their fridge as if it were her own, taking whatever she wanted without asking. Alexandre even laughed about it:
Look at the sausage! Apparently, here it has free reign
In spring, the calls resumed:
So, when are you coming? The garden doesnt wait.
Alexandre resisted until Élodie suggested a ruse:
Lets bring supplies. That way, Mom cant tally our portions.
He agreedon the condition they make a detour to the supermarket. And there they were again, standing in front of the country house, arms loaded with bags.
What is this now? Apricots? Hélène Lucienne asked, lips pursed. Yet as she rummaged through the bags she found cheese, meat, sausage, and fell silent.
That way you wont have to calculate how many grams I eat, Alexandre teased.
Hélène Lucienne let out a faint, disdainful sound but said nothing. Later, in the kitchen, she whispered to Élodie:
It would be nice if you always brought provisions. Simpler for me, easier for you.
Élodie nodded, torn between irritation and amusement. The bottom line was clear: Alexandre was ready to return, this time with groceries, but without fights or accusations. In the end, that proved to be a kind of family happiness.
A Week of Sausages: When My Mother-in-Law Critiques Our Helpings
