Are you a submissive man?! The motherinlaw gasps in horror as she sees her son preparing breakfast himself.
I cant believe a man is in the kitchen! she exclaims, horrified to discover that her son is actually cooking breakfast.
Valentine Lefèvre had come to visit us for the first time in eight years. Since her son Théo and I had tied the knot, she had never set foot in our home. She lives in a tiny village near Bordeaux and rarely travels to the city her age, health, and farm duties keep her there. This time, however, she insisted: Im coming to see how you live. After all, you have a family, a mortgaged flat I need to make sure everythings okay.
Honestly, I was relieved. Over all those years there had been no visits, no phone calls to check in. I hoped we could finally break the ice. We welcomed her properly: a ready bedroom, some traditional dishes, a cozy robe and soft slippers. Théo and I did our best. Between work and house chores it wasnt easy, but she deserved our care.
The first days passed quietly, without incident. Then Saturday morning arrived. I allowed myself a liein, exhausted after a week of hard work. Théo got up earlier, as he always does, looking for little ways to please me. That day he decided to surprise us with a breakfast for his mother and for me.
Halfasleep, I could hear the kitchen sounds the sizzle of the pan, the coffee machine humming, the scent of buttered toast. I smiled, my heart light. My man, my thoughtful Théo. But the peace was shortlived. Valentine stepped into the kitchen.
Her voice cut through the doorway:
What on earth are you doing, my son? Behind the stove? Wearing an apron?!
Mom, I was just making breakfast. You must be tired from the trip, and Camille is still sleeping let her rest. Besides, you know I enjoy cooking, he replied.
Take that apron off right now! A man in the kitchen is an embarrassment! Thats not why I raised you! Your father never washed a single dish in his life, and now youre making omelettes like a servant! And Camille, why is she staying in bed? Thats her role! Youre completely under her spell, its pathetic!
I stayed under the covers, fists clenched, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to intervene. Her words repulsed me. I felt ashamed for Théo, hurt for myself, and feared this visit would leave irreversible scars on our relationship.
I got up just as she began to gasp with outrage. Théo still held his spatula, the omelette calmly browning over the flame. Valentine trembled with anger, muttering about decadence, irresponsibility, and a man must be a man.
I quickly brewed a calming herbal tea without it we might have suffered a heart attack on the spot. I sat beside her, took her hand and tried to explain, gently:
In our home things work differently. We are partners. I cook, I clean, I work. Théo helps too. He cooks because he likes it, because he cares for us. Is that really such a crime?
She didnt listen. Her face stayed closed, her eyes full of judgment. She said nothing, but her expression spoke: Youve turned my son into a weakling. When she left a few days later, without even hugging us, I realized she would never accept our way of life.
Later, Théo told me she had called his father to complain: Our boy has become his wifes slave, the poor thing doesnt even get to sleep hes up at dawn standing over pots. I thought how sad it is to raise a man with the belief that caring for others is a weakness, that love is a disgrace.
Im not angry, just sorrowful for her, who spent a life treating the kitchen as a prison; for him, who had to fight for the right to be a good husband; and for me, because I had hoped wed grow close.
At least I know one thing: my man is not weak. Hes a man who loves. If that doesnt please everyone thats their problem.
Are You a Submissive Man?!” — The Horrified Mother-in-Law Sees Her Son Making Breakfast All by Himself
