Some may cast judgment upon my actions, but I found myself compelled to take a stand. Since tying the knot, my mother-in-law has made it a daily ritual to join us for lunch, conveniently residing just across the hall in the neighboring apartment.
Like clockwork, at 3 o’clock each afternoon, there she stands at our doorstep, much to my husband’s delight, ensuring his mother isn’t left to dine alone. Adding insult to injury, she’ll even dictate her menu preferences the day prior, leaving me with little choice but to comply. One particular day, my husband ventured off to a seminar, leaving me to fend for myself at home.
As the clock struck 3, the inevitable doorbell chime signaled her arrival. I chose silence, tiptoeing cautiously toward the entrance. Ignoring her persistent ringing and knocking, I remained steadfastly mute. After a quarter of an hour, she retreated back to her own abode. Concerned, my husband reached out, questioning my absence when his mother had come calling.
Feverishly, I explained, ‘I’m unwell, it’s best she doesn’t come, I’m feeling rather feeble.’ My fib secured a reprieve of seven days (better safe than sorry). If only I had devised this scheme sooner, sparing myself the daily intrusion.