People have enough problems with their own nuclear familyâso they don’t need a monster mother-in-law, too. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened to these poor Redditors, who had to deal with meddling matrons, bitter revenge plots, and just straight-up dangers to themselves and others. Get ready for some major mommy issues.
1. A Bad Sense Of Humor
I am half white and half Asian. My dad is Dutch, my mom is Singaporean (Chinese). We’ve been living in the US for almost 20 years now, and we moved when I was five. So, I met my boyfriend’s mom a few weeks back, and it went okay I guess. A few days ago, however, I found out she’s Facebook stalked me and found a picture of me with my dad at a black-tie event.
I was holding his arm. The Asian features really came through with me, so I don’t really “look” like my dad. We meet again, and halfway through the conversation she casually goes, “So where’s your sugar daddy?” The conversation stops. I’m just like, “I don’t have one?” She pulls up my Facebook profile and shows me the picture with me and my father.
I just laugh it off and explain that’s my dad. She then asks me whether I was adopted. I again laugh it off. She lets it go for a while, but she brings it up again! “Well, I hope your dad did a DNA test when you were born.” At this point, I’m just like, what is up with this woman? Maybe I just had a really sheltered upbringing, but I’ve never met anyone who was this brand of weird.
I tell her very plainly that I don’t appreciate her insinuating that my mother cheated on my father, and then I left. That night, I get messages from my boyfriend saying, “I took a joke too seriously” and “She was just making fun of the fact you don’t really look that much like him.” Yeah bud, I don’t think she was joking. I don’t think she was joking at all.
My wife and I eventually got married by going down to the courthouse to get it done as quickly as possible. We didn’t mention it to my mother-in-law, but agreed that we’d have a ceremony at some point down the line. Things are going well, we keep it from her that we got married (kept our rings off around her) and it seems like we’re somewhat at peace.
She’s still preaching about how us being together is wrong, and she still attends church. We keep the peace so we have access to my wife’s minor brothers, who are nine and 12. One day, the mother-in-law is over at our house to watch our son for us. We get home, and we made a fatal error. We’ve forgotten to take our rings off, and she sees.
She freaks out, but eventually calms down. We plan to get together at her house to talk about it, since she is hurt. Understandably, but we were worried about her reaction in the first place. So we go to her house. We had to bring our son with us since we couldn’t find a babysitter, but that was fine since my wife’s brothers got along well with him.
We sit down with my father-in-law first, and we make small talk. The mother-in-law’s gone out to grocery shop, she’d be back soon. We were hoping she’d hurry up. At some point, my father-in-law tells us that she’s late. That’s fine, we say, we can reorganize this meeting for another time. We go to grab our son and leaveâ¦but we can’t find him. Or my wife’s brothers.
We panic; we get frantic. My father-in-law just sits there. We call the authorities, tell them we can’t find the boys, and they come over and help us try to find them. They search the neighborhood, and after asking my father-in-law again and again why he isn’t doing anything, he tells them the truth at last. He confesses that my mother-in-law has the boys.
It took the officers the rest of the night to find them, and both in-laws ended up being detained. To make a long story short, my father-in-law was released, mother-in-law was not, and she has a court date coming up soon. A CPS case was opened, and my wife’s brothers were temporarily placed with my wife’s aunt, who isn’t bonkers.
We’re not allowed to go into specifics, but due to some serious things found in my mother-in-law’s phone and in her house, it doesn’t look like she’s going to get away with it. I’ve been doing my best to comfort my wife since then, and all three of us (us and our son) have gotten into therapy. We’re doing well, and I’m happy to report that I don’t think we’ll have to deal with that woman again.
My husband and I have been together for 15 years. We both work full-time and share the chores at home; I cook, he does dishes. My mother-in-law adores her son and in her eyes, no one is good enough for him. We have never lived in the same city as her. The first time she visited our home, I cooked my best dinner, four courses, nice wine, the whole fireworks to impress her.
After dessert and coffee, my husband started taking the dishes to the sink and started washing, while still making small conversation with my mother-in-law and myself. I was exhausted after a day of work and cooking. The moment my husband’s hands touched the water, her face changed. Her mouth twisted and she started mumbling and breathing weird.
She apologized and walked out. I thought she went for a smoke, so I just went to lie down in my bed. I was just touching my bed when I heard my husband consoling his mom, as she was crying. She didn’t know I went to my bed and I could hear them. She started sobbing about all the sacrifices she made to give him a good life, that she never thought she would see him washing dishes.
She said that she had raised him better than this, and that I broke her heart for making him do house chores. My husband is the best man ever, he has an incredible sense of humor, and he found the whole situation hilarious. He started laughing very loudly and asking her to stop the drama. He told her that they had just had one of the best home-cooked dinners of their lives, that I had worked very hard to have a nice dinner, and that crying over some dishes was infantile.
He went as far as tickling his mom to stop her crying. That first visit has set the tone of the relationship with her now. She hates me, dislikes my daughters, and over time spends less and less time with her son. Last I heard, she wants my husband to travel (we live in a different country now) to her place, so she can put her affairs in order.
She claims she will pass soon and wants to leave in peace. My husband kindly told her that she should spend her wealth, and that she doesn’t need him to write a will.
My mother-in-law is a lunatic who believes I should have ended up with my brother-in-law. Rundown: My brother-in-law and I were friends in high school. He got a crush on me, and I didn’t reciprocate. He took it badly. In college, I started dating his older brother who also attended that college. I feel some blame can fall on me here because I knew how he felt and I ended up with his older brother, but that’s just how it goes at times.
I didn’t intend for it to happen. My brother-in-law told his mother a very different story. According to him, outings with me and my group of friends in high school were actually one-on-one dates. We were highly passionate, according to him. Basically, he told her we were the OTP of the world and we’d be together forever. We were NEVER together.
Anyway, my mother-in-law accused me of a lot of things when I started dating my now-husband, but eventually had to step back because of how many people backed my version of events up. Shockingly, the truth has witnesses. Years passed, my brother-in-law has always made me and my husband feel uncomfortable and so we don’t see him that much.
We see my mother-in-law twice a month at most because she has supervised playtime with the kids. She even once asked my husband if he’d be open to “sharing” me with his brother at one point. It was a rough few years. The last visit with her ends up coinciding with my brother-in-law being there. We push on with formalities and my husband steps out for a smoke.
I was solo supervising the kids while my mother-in-law plays with them on the floor. My son is old enough to call my brother-in-law “Uncle,” while my daughter is still going through her first words. I get up for a few moments to leave the teacups in the kitchen, and I come back to an absolute horror show. I see my mother-in-law holding my daughter up to my brother-in-law and saying, “Say hi to daddy. Say hi to daddy.”
Worst of all, he was playing along and making faces at her. The only reaction I had was to grab the kids and leave while they protested. I explained why we were rushing out to my husband and he was really upset. He called his mother to find out what the heck she was up to, and she just got very defensive about me not hearing correctly.
My husband lied and said he’d heard it as well, and she stuttered that she was just letting the children know the truth. Their daddy was my brother-in-law, and my husband was being stupid by not realizing I was cheating on him and being taken in by my charms so I could bag both brothers. We’re putting them both on a “time out” and she is not happy that her twice-monthly grandma visits are canceled for the next four months.
My baby boy was diagnosed with type 1 (insulin-dependent) diabetes, and our lives haven’t been the same since. We’ve been struggling with accepting his condition as the new normal while trying to learn as much as we can and be able to provide our son with the best care and minimize the occurrence of hypoglycaemic events. We live with constant fear of hypoglycemia/hyperglycemia and we can’t escape the reality that one small misstep could lead to a fatal outcome.
We also want to prevent long-term complications. He needs to get his blood sugar checked three times a day before giving him his injections. We do this based on pediatrician instructions. For what it’s worth, my husband and I are on a limited income. My husband also has PTSD and stress-related health issues. He can no longer go out with friends, can’t focus on his job, and has become distressed and gets angry very easily.
I forced him to get treatment for his PTSD if he wants to be strong for his son. He has only recently started taking medication and we’re hoping he’ll get better with them. Well, when my mother-in-law found out about our son’s condition, she wanted to be right in the center of it. She wanted to be there for doctor’s appointments, made backhanded comments about how poorly I’m handling my son’s condition, and she even said once that this happened to us after my husband and I stopped going to church on Sunday and that it will get better if we start attending again.
I take care of my son’s health, I make sure his blood sugar is controlled and his injections are taken on time, I watch for any candy and treats that are not good for him and try to insert vegetables and protein into his diet. Last week, my husband and I were attending a group therapy. When my husband asked if we could both go some place quiet and eat dinner after, I said yes, so we dropped our son off at my mother-in-law’s house.
I’ve given her new syringes and the insulin bottle, as well as other stuff I bought from the drugstore that day. My mother-in-law has experience and has been trained to give insulin shots. However, we haven’t visited in a while. When we got there, she made a comment about how skinny my son is because of this diet that we’re following.
I told her we’re just following the doctor’s instructions, and she responded that apparently, the doctor isn’t doing a good job. She also complained when I told her that he needs to get his blood sugar checked, and instructed her to give him an insulin injection before each meal, plus no treats or cakes. She said okay and we told her we would call to check on him.
At around 6 pm, we came to her house to pick him up. I immediately sensed something was wrong. He looked sleepier than usual, but she said it was probably because he was playing with the dog all day. I asked if she did as she was instructed, and she said yes. We said goodbye and left. When we got home, all my son wanted to do was sleep.
He fell asleep on the couch as I was preparing dinner for him. My husband tried to wake him up, but he looked like he was dizzy, nauseous, and sweaty. My husband was concerned and told me to come see. I ran out of the kitchen, my heart pounding, and asked my son if he had his insulin shots and what he ate at his grandma’s house.
He said no, he didn’t take his insulin shots. I quickly pricked his fingertip to know what his blood sugar level was, and it was 300mg/dL. VERY BAD. I freaked out and told my husband we needed to go to the hospital. The doctor told us it was hyperglycemia, and they started treating him in the emergency room, administered insulin and inserted IV fluids to rehydrate him.
They kept monitoring and checking his blood sugar every 15 minutes. I was so terrified and angry at the same time. In the meantime, my husband called his mom and literally started yelling at her and telling her that our son has been taken to the emergency because of her recklessness and ignorance. She completely lied about giving him his insulin dosage.
The insulin bottle hadn’t been touched, and she got rid of the syringes to make it look like she did give him his injections. My husband argued with her for 10 minutes and finished by saying he was taking her name off the emergency contact list because he does not trust her anymore. What she did was wrong and dangerous. My baby needs insulin to survive, and despite having given her enough information about the seriousness of his condition, she decided he was thin so he doesn’t need insulin.
Instead, she thought he needs more food, more carbohydrates, and more sugar. Plus, skipping a couple of insulin injections won’t be a problem. She doesn’t fully understand my son’s constant need for insulin to stay alive, it’s that serious, but she chose to be ignorant about it and handle it poorly. She still calls me, about how it was unfair we blamed her and that she didn’t know.
Her task was simple, follow my instructions, but she did this deliberately. She thinks these are my rules, not the doctor’s, so she went against them. Thank God I’m blessed with a caring, understanding doctor who literally saved my son’s life. I’m grateful to him for comforting me and reassuring me that everything will be fine, I honestly don’t know what I would do without such love and support from the whole staff.
But instead of bowing out graciously with what little was left of her dignity, she doubled down. She responded, “I didn’t want to have to do this but here” and then sent him a photo of me with an older blonde woman who she has never met. This was actually even more ridiculous. This woman wasâ¦drum roll pleaseâ¦my half sister.
Oh boy, guys. I took my kids to McDonald’s this morning for breakfast. That was three hours ago and we are just getting home, having never eaten our breakfast, because of a personality trait of mine that my son calls “Oh-Heck-No-itis.” You see, when I’m out and about and I see something wrong happening, I cannot look the other way.
I cannot pretend I didn’t see it. No, my pushy butt gets involved to right the wrong. Especially when it involves kids. Makes sense given my upbringing. So, we are walking through the McDonald’s parking lot and this older woman, about late 60s, has this adorable little toddler with her. She isn’t holding his hand even though there are cars and traffic.
The little boy runs almost in front of a car and I grab him and pick him up. He is such a happy little guy. I go to give him to the woman and she says, “Come to grandma you bad boy” and grabs him out of my arms. She then proceeds to pull down his pants and hit him in the butt about five times really hard. It echoed. When she went for the sixth hit, I grabbed her hand and pushed her away.
This poor little boy is screaming now, and she is screaming assault. I pick up the boy and call 9-1-1. You do not hit a child with that kind of force while calling him a demon child and cursing at him. I take the little boy over to the side of the restaurant as I’m on the phone, telling the operator that I just had to physically restrain a woman from beating a toddler.
The old lady is screeching and my son is blocking her from getting me and the baby. Officers come, and we tell them what happened. By that point, the boy is calmed down, but he had huge red welts on his little behind. You could tell it hurt him to sit down. The officers get mom’s number off grandma. We sit with the boy, as he seemed more comfortable with us than the officers.
Half an hour later, a car comes into the lot and the little boy’s face lit up when he sees it’s his mom and dad. They come straight to him and are hugging and kissing him and apologizing. They get the full story from the officers and us. Dad is angry. He is practically breathing steam. Mom is crying and just looksâ¦broken. Dad marches over to the patrol car housing his (as I found out) mother-in-law and asks her what the heck she thought she was doing not holding his hand near traffic, then beating him for her mistake?
She is still screeching about me hurting her. That’s all she would say. I apologized to the boy’s mother for putting my hands on her mother, but she gave me a hug and thanked me for helping him. Dad comes over and asks mom if they’re going to press charges this time. This. Time. This time? Ok, I’m not gonna ask, it’s none of my business, but dad looks done and asks as if this is finally enough for mom to understand her mother is terrible.
Mom says yes, and I give my full statement, as does my son. Mom and dad take my phone number and take their poor boy home. I told them to call me, as I have experience in these areas and know people who can help them if they need it. The mother-in-law gets taken in to be booked. That old witch not only almost let that poor boy get hit by a car, she then beat him for her error.
Not a good idea if I’m around. So, we ended up just coming home and now I’m making brunch to burn off the excess adrenaline. I hope they call me. Poor mom looked so heartbroken.
I work at a business location that easily rhymes with Buck Free Keys’s. It is/was my first job, and I worked my butt off to keep it. It’s the easiest job to have where I live, and I wouldn’t trade it in for the world. Ours isn’t the prettiest Buck’s, nor the largest, but all of the staff I work with are great and so are most of the managers.
I even became a manager after three years of dedication at Buck’s, and I am proud of myself for it. With Buck’s, a lot of people in my area come in and are usually surprised and/or upset with how pricey and yet cheap we are with our games. This usually changes when they realize, after our explaining, that our Buck’s is the only Buck’s in a good two or three hundred miles.
Our corporate sucks, no lies, and as such our prices jump around like an angry toddler chasing a balloon. We have a lot of mothers-in-law, fathers-in-law, and moms come in. It’s a kid’s place, unsurprising right? Wellâ¦a week or two ago was my area’s spring break. And this is where we met the most stubborn, evil, old hag I’ve ever thought one could meet.
And working where I work, I’ve met a lot of these kinds of people. We’re busy throughout the day, and as one of only two managers on duty, I’m helping the front of the house stay afloat. Between helping fix some of our more difficult machines, and soothing the complaints of some of our more difficult patrons, everything has been going well!
One might have even thought too well. Well, in walks the world’s Depository of Witchitude, right after I had just finished telling my co-worker that “today was going to be a fun one!” This woman could’ve pickled a live elephant with the sheer amount of witchiness resting on her face. I had been walking over to another staff member at our kid check station.
This is essentially where weâ¦now get thisâ¦check your kids in with you! (Gasp! Horror of horrors! Safety for children!). What that means is we literally give you a stamp, and your kids a matching stamp, in invisible ink so that they leave with YOU and not SOMEONE ELSE. Anyhow. This woman has come in with her grandkids, though soon the husband (her apparent son), who is now my favorite action hero, will arrive.
She enters first and immediately turns her nose up at my staff member, who politely asks to see their hands so that they can get a stamp. “Why are you stamping us?! We don’t need a STAMP.” “Ma’am, the stamps are so that no one leaves with any of your kids. They’re only supposed to leave with y’all.” “Well, my [granddaughter’s name] and [grandson’s name] are too little to get a stamp!”
During all of this, my staff member and I are getting treated to the extremest form of stink eye I have ever seen from a grown human. This woman is glaring at us in a way I thought only possible by demons, and perhaps very, very irate cats. She’s gone back and forth with my staff member, and still has yet to even raise her hand for the stamp.
Now, my co-worker and I are both the darkest people in our entire store, skin-wise (an important thing to note, I promise), and neither of us is very shy about letting our accents change depending on the people we talk to. Someone from the ‘hood? “Hey, we hood too!” Someone from the nicer parts of town? “Yes ma’am! No ma’am! We hope you have an absolutely blessed day ma’am!”
This too, is also important. We had been nothing but pleasant as can be. This whole time, my staff member has been using his nicest “white people” voice. He’s already a generally soft-spoken dude, but this is the nicest and most panicked I’ve ever seen him get. This woman, this fiend, is getting increasingly louder while the two children standing behind her are looking more and more embarrassed.
The granddaughter is the older of the two, and the grandson is clinging to her hand with the most nervous stare possible. And all the while, she is just growing louder and more unruly. I quickly step in, taking over and letting my staff member turn and begin checking people OUT of “kid-check.” This apparently was the wrong move.
Clearly, loudly, and with him still standing right next to me, this fiend in the shape of a woman goes: “Oh good. Another one. Y’all must breed like roaches.” In what is such a casual tone, she might have been talking about the weather. I’m sorryâ¦What. I’m so caught off guard by sheer nonchalance of her statement, I can’t do anything but stare.
But, then was not the time, and I simply hold out my hands and look the woman in her eyes. They are furious. So I speak, using my own “white-people” voice. “Ma’am. If your kids cannot be stamped, we have stickers for them. But we cannot let you in otherwise.” I say this as coolly as I can. “G’ammyâ” Is begun to be said, a sentence in its infancy immediately ceased by this hellspawn of a human, who turns and immediately hisses, “Shush! Gammy is talking.”
After which, she turns back around and then proceeds to holler for a manager. Over my shoulder. Directly in front of me. “Can I speak to a manager, please! Hello! I need some help!” Now, I had mentioned earlier that I myself am a manager, and we wear these nice red lanyards that clearly mark us out as managers. Like, they have MANAGER written all along the length of the lanyard, in bright white against a red background.
I raise my lanyard, continue to stare as calmly as I can at this woman, and state that I amâin factâa manager! Wow! She sneered at me y’all, then told me, “Well someone like you ain’t no help to someone like me.” What? “Ma’am. I am a manager, and any other manager will tellâ” “HELLO! AH, YOU! HEY! SWEETIE! CAN YOU GO GET YOUR MANAGER FOR ME?” She screams past me, waving her arms at my cashierâ¦Who is a short walk away from kid-check.
My cashier, bless her soul, pauses in the middle of the order she’s taking, looks directly at me, and makes the most confused face ever. “He’sâ¦right there ma’am?” She shouts across the way. I could have hugged her then and there, and she immediately went right back to her own work. This sends the woman right to the edge. Then she went overboard.
She puts her finger under my nose and begins jabbing my chest to boot. “Where is YOUR manager then?” and “I want to speak to YOUR boss!” and “Why won’t you just let me and my babies go in!?” Plus all other manner of complaints and shriek-whining. “Gammy, mommy and daâ” speaks the little girl, who has stayed silent through most of this otherwise.
“Gammy” turns around and screams at her to, and I quote, “Shush before gammy throws you in the trash like daddy should have!” My staff member next to me stops at hearing this. He looks at me, looks at the woman, and I can SEE his brain telling him that man-handling her is indeed the answer. He opens his mouth, his shoulders and spine are pulling back and straight, and he’s sucking in a breathâ¦!
I nudge him with a foot and send him to go get another manager. Firmly, there are no chances for things to get worse. The little girl? Crying. Her brother? Crying too. Gammy? Turned right back around and screaming at me once more. Y’all, I felt like I was trapped in that conversation for eternity. This woman was going ’round in circles, telling me to “get my boss” and “look what you made me do.”
Then, as my other manager is walking up, she hisses the winning statement in my face: “This is why people like you shouldn’t be getting jobs like this.” I’m not a very large guy by any means now, I’m just shy of 5’11”, I’m what is essentially a walking collection of sticks and skin, and I have a terrible habit of smiling when stressed or upset.
Now would be a fair time to assume I would be upset, and as such, I’m smiling as I tell this woman: “Ma’am. I’m going to have to ask you to leave. If you do not vacate the premises, I will be calling the authorities.” “Are you threatening me?!” Foolishly, I replied with a stinging comeback. “No ma’am. Promising.” This sends her on another spiel right as my fellow manager walks up and the front doors to our store open up.
In comes my hero, who storms through those doors like a hurricane given life. Y’all, this was a man who was sun-tanned white, tall and broad, with tattoos running from shoulders to wrists. Enter the husband/son, whose expression shouts with the vitriol of the devil incarnate that he is displeased. “Mom. What are you doing here?” rumbles the mountain, as she turns about and immediately shifts tactics.
“Oh, finally you’re here! Would you please tell this nice young man that he can let us in now! I was telling him we needed to wait for you and we were just chatting!” “Why are my kids crying?” “Oh they got scared of the stamps, the young man right there didn’t listen when I told him they don’t like stampsâ” “Stop. Just stop. I could hear you. I heard everything from when you started shrieking.”
The woman looked absolutely floored. “You’re done.” He continued. “You don’t deserve to see these kids anymore, my kids, who you ‘love so much.’ Get out. Go home.” Grumbles the mountain, with a tone that would have made me poop my pants were I the one being chastised. And so she did go, not without crocodile tears, not without shrieking that, “You can’t do that to your mother!”
Not without her son turning around, handing his crying children to his wife who had just walked in, and then leaning into his mother’s face to, and I mean this quite literally, rumble the most intense parting words I’ve heard: “Leave, before I carry you out. I’ll throw you in the trash right here.” She swiftly made her exit, sobbing and wailing all the way out.
He then walks over to me, and I’m trying my darndest to not run for cover at the wrathful expression that turns my way. “I’m sorry about that.” Rumbles the voice of Zeus, God of thunder and massive size. “No problem! Would your kids like to have something off our prize wall?” Chirps my co-worker, the voice of an innocent, innocuous cherub. And thus, does our story end.
I make part of my living as an artist. I make nerdy works of art, and sell poster prints to awesome people with money. One of these works has become really popular over the past few years, and has garnered much interestâit’s a take on the old “dogs playing poker,” except the pups in mine are playing a popular tabletop role-playing game.
A few weeks back, I received a request on Etsy for a custom print. The buyer wanted me to swap out one of the dogs for her own dog, wearing a tuxedo. Dog pictures were sent, and we chatted a bit. Turns out, she is getting married in the spring, and the dog in question has been a part of her and her betrothed’s relationship for a decade.
The dog will even be part of the ceremony, and the commissioned artwork will be a wedding gift from her to her new husband. Awesome. I am a rank sentimentalist, I will admit it. I thought the idea was very cool and offered to make additional changes to the piece to make it even more meaningful to them: their miniatures will be on the table, along with their own character sheets, among other little details.
She was over the moon, and increased the scope of the project. Instead of a poster print, it’s now going to be a huge canvas print, in a beautiful custom frame. Suffice to say, this project is a big deal to me. It would take a lot of time if I rushed it, and I’ve no intention of rushing it. I had just started working on the project when Thanksgiving rolled around.
Things paused while my family visited remote relatives, and then while we dealt with the passing of a close friend the week after. During this time, I got a message on Etsy on Thanksgiving morning from the client: “Hi, I want you to make changes to my poster before you send it.” Ok, no big deal, I thought. We had chatted a bunch about changes, and the piece was far from finalized.
I asked for details. Her response stunned me. She said, “Take out our dog in the tuxedo from the poster, I don’t want him in it. Also take out our character sheets and miniatures.” I was floored. What had happened? Did I do something wrong? Did I somehow blow the sale? I asked if she was sureâ¦that it seemed like a lot of good stuff discarded.
And a lot of time and effort wasted, even if it was only time spent discussing and brainstorming. The response I got back was infuriating. “Yes, I am sure. I am the customer you little jerk. Don’t question me, or else I’ll just cancel the project. Further, I don’t think that [the game in the artwork] is a good fit. I want you to change it so that the dogs are [doing unrelated, non-nerdy activity].”
I was so angry. How dare someone speak like that to me? I, unfortunately, had a good amount of time over the holiday to keep mulling it over. By the end, I had mentally decided that I was going to fire her as a customer. The only thing that kept me from doing it was the busy schedule of the holiday visit, and the swamped week that was to follow.
As best we can surmise, the mother-in-law took her phone and saw the emails talking about the artwork project. She took it upon herself to message me, pretending to be her daughter-in-law. She then deleted my emails so that the customer wouldn’t see them. The missing phone was “discovered” on a kitchen counter at the end of the weekend.
I can’t wrap my head around why someone would do something like this. What was she hoping to accomplish? Ruin her daughter-in-law’s gift to her son on his wedding day? Was she hoping that he’d be so outraged, he’d call off the whole marriage?
I’m pregnant. Last night, my husband was talking to his mom and mentioned the baby because he was so excited about an ultrasound picture I showed him. In the picture, the baby is clearly flipping the bird, which is also funny. He tells her about this and her comment is along the lines of, “She’s gonna be a trouble maker like you already.”
Now, we don’t know the sex yet, but she’s insisting I’m having a girl. It’s a squish with limbs, but she’s set on a girl. Whatever. So he gets into talking about how when the baby’s older he wants them to learn cars, because that’s what he does and how my gramps raised my mom. So it’s tradition. Guys. My mother-in-law lost her darn mind.
“I’M not having MY granddaughter be a little butch! She will wear pink and bows and dresses! None of that greasy mechanic stuff. She’s gonna be GIRLY!” Uh no. HECK no. That’s where I stepped in and said, “Ok. First, it’s my kid, and my mom didn’t raise me girly so I’m not forcing that on my kid if it’s a girl. Second, my grandfather raised my mom to know how to take care of her car so she didn’t need anyone else to do it. That’s what your son is gonna do for our kid, girl or boy.”
She apparently wasn’t hearing any of this because she goes, “Listen here, miss preggo, my grandbabyâ¦” before my husband cut her off. Here’s where you are going to love him. He says to her, “Ma. Shut the heck up for a minute. Is it your kid?” My mother-in-law says, “No butâ¦” “No. That’s right. It’s not. It’s our kid. Now shut up. Were going to raise our kid how we want to. Not how you want to.” I love him.
My mother-in-law ruined the birth of my son four days ago. I’m still pretty shocked about what happened and still kind of baby-brained after the birth, so I hope this makes sense. I’ve never got on with my mother-in-law and have probably met her about 10 times since I’ve been with my partner. She has never liked me and it’s obvious.
She doesn’t speak to me, she ignores me, she leaves me out, and if she does speak to me it’s to say something derogatory. She started being a bit nicer when my partner and I found out I was expecting. She was very excited for her first grandchild and we finally had something she would talk to me about. She asked my partner several times if she could be in there when I gave birth.
That was a firm “no” and I didn’t think about it again reallyâ¦until she stormed into the delivery room four days ago. I was in active labor by then, and she suddenly appeared out of nowhere. I’m an incredibly shy and anxious person and I could not bring myself to ask her to leave myself. I just have no balls. I know this is terrible.
I presumed my partner would ask her to leave. He didn’t. She stayed for hours and I started to feel like I needed to push but I desperately did not want to push with her in the room. Eventually, I just told my partner it was time to ask her to leave, and my mother-in-law looked furious. He did though, and she left. Fast forward to an hour later.
The baby was not coming out no matter how hard I pushed and things had started to get panicky in the delivery room. I ended up on my hands and knees in the least dignified positionâ¦and then the worst happened. My mother-in-law came back into the room. I was mortified. My partner had to get her to leave again. The pushing wasn’t working and we ended up in the theatre.
It ended up being a forceps delivery, which was extremely traumatic and I’ve had more stitches than I even feel comfortable with saying. In the theatre, people kept coming in and saying that she was STILL trying to get in. When we came out, more people came and said she was trying to get in to see the baby. I was horrified. My partner didn’t think it was as bad as I was making out.
I allowed visits the next day and my mom came first (I made sure of that) and my mother-in-law came slightly later because I told her the wrong visiting times. I know that’s childish, but I felt like after what happened it was the last thing I could do to get my own boundaries back. My mother-in-law wasn’t happy she wasn’t the first to meet the baby.
Four days on, and my mother-in-law asks every day to come and see the baby, but I’m absolutely furious at what she did. I’m also trying to establish breastfeeding and I’m anxious and vulnerable and I don’t want her around. She keeps telling my partner I’m mean and horrible keeping her away from the baby. I don’t know what to do.
I’ve spoken to my partner about it but I haven’t pushed it about how upset I am about it all because I’m trying to enjoy time with my baby. I feel really let down by him for not sticking up for me more and keeping her out properly. I also feel confused about medical staff not keeping her away when I said I didn’t want her in there.
One of the midwives said to me after the birth that the reason the labor went so badly was probably a lot to do with how stressful I was finding it having her in the room when I didn’t want her there, and honestly, I feel like that’s true.
This happened a few years ago, but I just cooked spaghetti for dinner and we had a fun trip down memory lane. Before we were engaged, I invited my husband over for dinner. He got to my place early, and I was making spaghetti that night. I had chopped onions, garlic, mushrooms, and had it all in a pan with butter when he walked in.
It smelled great. He just kind of sat back and watched me and was being so darn cute. Asking questions and wanting to help but not wanting to mess anything up. Once the veggies cooked, I added ground beef and seasoned it. In went the noodles, then I added canned sauce to the meat, nothing fancy, pinch of sugar, extra cheese, and done.
Quick meal and full of flavor. He loved it! I mean, this guy who ate like a bird got three servings! He was gushing about my “gourmet spaghetti” and was so grateful. He kept the leftovers for work the next day and thanked me a million times. When he told his family about it, his mom asked him something to the effect of, “Is it better than mine?!” And he said it was.
He said that I make it so well and that it’s his favorite thing I make. Well, we get a dinner invite from his mom for the following week. She’s making spaghettiâ¦and wanted to have a spaghetti cook off to see whose he liked the best??? What the heck? I laughed and he thought it was a joke, but said that she did seem upset about his comments.
He tried to play it down and tell her that he likes them both but that he’d never had some like mine. I refused the cook off because I thought it was silly and I didn’t want to set a bad tone with her. The day comes and we show up. She had invited her other adult children and their children to partake in the epic spaghetti dinner.
We all ate a bowl and it was ok. I mean, it was literally sauce and noodles. I said to my husband, “this tastes familiar but I can’t place the sauce.” My mother-in-law was behind us and chimes in that it’s her special recipe. My father-in-law then says, “The bottle is in the trash can if you want to see the brand.” Poor guy got The Stare. I kind of laughed it off and stage whispered to him, “Thanks, I’ll check before I leave!”
My husband and him chuckled and we went on with our conversation. My mother-in-law was still standing there, but I figured she would know we were joking because I’m not actually going to dig through rubbish. Welpâ¦she got mad. Like, really mad. She stormed into the kitchen and took the bag to the dumpster down the street. She got back and smugly said, “Now you’ll never know what I used and I win!”
The silence was so, so awkward. Then she turns to my husband, “Why haven’t you eaten more!? You’re supposed to have seconds!!” He just said he was full. Everyone was so uncomfortable at this point. We left shortly after, but not before she gave my husband an industrial-sized portion of leftover spaghetti, which sat in his fridge until it became a science experiment.
Little did I know that I had only had a taste of the pettiness that would become my mother-in-law. Cute side note because my husband is a sweetheart. Anywhere we’ve had spaghetti, he’ll quietly whisper to me: “Your gourmet spaghetti is way better than this.”
My mother-in-law always complains when she isn’t asked to babysit when me and my husband look for someone to babysit the kids. To me, this was an ongoing issue and at times, years ago, we did ask her, but she always had other plans. Well, this morning I woke up to a swollen and bruised knuckle on my right hand. It hurt a lot, and I could barely do anything with my hand because it hurt so much.
My husband decided to take me to get it checked out, but being so late to call around to ask someone, we asked my neighbor (a close friend of mine), to watch the kids. However, she wasn’t home, and I checked with my mom and she couldn’t do it. So my husband asked if he could ask his mom, and I told him to have a back-up plan if she said no.
Turns out she said yes. My husband didn’t mention me but just told her we had an emergency and needed her to look after the kids. I’m surprised she actually agreed to help out. We thanked her when she arrived. Me and my husband were gone for two hours, and when we got home we found my friend in the living room with the kids. Then she told us the story that made my blood run cold.
She said my mother-in-law showed up at her door the moment she got home, half an hour after we left, and asked our friend to watch over the kids because she had been unexpectedly called into work. The thing is, my mother-in-law has no job. I think she just got bored and expected to leave when she wanted to. She didn’t even bother to tell us she was leaving either, which is what I find even more annoying.
Not long after, though, did she call my husbandâ¦to tell him to pay her for watching the kids. My husband let her know she wasn’t getting paid and staying half an hour and expecting other people to watch the kids was unacceptable. This caused her to freak. She told him we were both being selfish and should be thankful for her being there when we needed someone, and that she didn’t do anything wrong.
My husband told her if she saw no fault in her actions then she no longer could see the kids, or us, and until she realizes her mistake, don’t contact him. She tried to fight him, cried on the phone and said she needed him. What she didn’t expect, though, was to be hung up on and ignored whenever she tried to call back. From this point on, no more contact with my mother-in-law.
My hassles with my mother-in-law have become somewhat legendary around my friend group. She has been gone now for about 12 years, but sheesh did that gal go down fighting! The scary part is that my own mother was just like her. In fact, they were bitter enemies before my husband and I were even born. This is the reason we did not have a wedding and 44 years later I have never once regretted that decision.
Much to my mother-in-law’s disappointment, I never gave her the satisfaction of yelling at her or arguing with her, but my sister is not one to back down from someone acting like a spoiled toddler. See,my sister has a very unconventional way of dealing with crazy folks. So one day, my sister had come over to my house for a visit.
We were watching TV with our kids, so that meant Sesame Street, The Electric Company and Mr. Rogers. (All great shows, by the way.) There was one hand puppet kitty cat on Mr. Rogers that would meow while saying something. For instance, it would say: Meow meow meow friend, meow? When it was asking someone to be its friend.
For some odd reason, this hit us both as hilarious and we began doing this to the kids. Like asking: Meow meow meow hungry, meow? We kept it up all afternoon, just being silly. The kids loved it. Later after dinner, I went to drive my sister home. She wanted to stop for a soda on the way to her house, so we did. To my dismay, my mother-in-law was in the convenience store where we stopped.
This woman immediately started being awful to me. She said: “Oh my Godâ¦why are you out so late?! (It was 9 pm) What are you even doing here? Does my son know where you are? Are you buying drinks? Does my son know you are out buying drinks? Are you going to drive while in that shape? Where are my grandkids?!” For what it’s worth, we were buying SODA.
Lord, this woman was exhausting. But my sister had the perfect response. Before I could even open my mouth to answer, my sister stepped up and said to her: “Meow meow meow stupid, meow?” My mother-in-law stared at her for a few seconds before stammering, “Wâ¦what?” To which my sister said: “Ahh! Meow meow meow, witch meow!”
At this point, several other people near us started snickering. Without another word, my mother-in-law turned on her heels and stomped out of the store. I hadn’t said a single word to her. I hadn’t really even gotten the chance. I took my sister and nephew home after thatâ my nephew had been off looking at the candy bars in the store and had missed it all.
By the time I had gotten home, my mother-in-law had called my husband and had told him my sister and I had been tipsy in public and were also rude to her. He knew better though, so he asked me what had really happened. He laughed so hard after I told him that he had tears in his eyes. To this day, my husband and his brothers will say: ‘Meow meow meow, witch, meow?’ to anyone being unreasonable.
So after my father passed, my mother moved to Florida hoping that her real mom would take care of her. She refused, and my mother refused to work, so she called up different family members begging for money. Everyone got fed up with it and told her to pound sand. Then she called up my nanna. Mother: I need money. Give me some.
Nanna: We have no money to give you. Get a job. Mother: Fine! Give me my inheritance! Nanna: What? Mother: The money I’ll get from your life insurance and the sale of the house. Give it to me! Nanna: There is no life insurance and we are still living in the house. Mother: YES THERE IS! GIVE ME MY MONEY! My Nanna had enough and gave the phone to my pappa and explained the whole situation.
Pappa: We raised your children. That’s your inheritance. hangs up phone Sadly, this wouldn’t be the last time she called begging for money.
My husband and I went over to our in-laws’ house about a week ago and of course, like always, I got stuck being with my mother-in-law while my husband and his dad grilled outside. We were on the subject of luxury handbags and my mother-in-law talked about wanting a $7,000 bag. She has this amazing trait where she does nothing all day and has done nothing with her life, yet acts like she’s the queen and expects her husband to spoil her.
While she’s talking about this super expensive bag, she says, “I’m just waiting for someone to pass in my family for me to be able to afford it.”â¦â¦I’m not joking. She said that word for word, and of course me being tired of her nonsense, I asked her, “What do you mean by that?” Cue her stumbling over her words, saying things like “Ohâ¦you knowâ¦inheritanceâ¦” as she turns bright red.
I about fell out of my seat just hearing her selfishness. She continues to back pedal, and I just sip at my drink with my eyebrows raised. I said “Ohh, ok,” and acted super unimpressed while I was screaming on the inside, debating if I was really hearing what I heard.
After my son was born, due to some medical problems, I had supply issues. It didn’t get better, and what little supply I had left dried up. He’s exclusively formula fed now. However, my mother-in-law is very pro-breastfeeding and won’t accept that I can’t do it. “I’ve breastfed five children until they were two. This is the most basic thing a mother should do. Why can’t you?”
This is her favorite thing to say. My husband put her on a time out because of it, and eventually she apologized. I think it’s because we refused to let her see our son until she did. But I digress. She comes by a few times a week now. She won’t bring up the breastfeeding issue anymore, but still grumbles when I bring out the formula.
In order to help keep track of the feedings, one of the things we do is keep a feeding timetable on the fridge. She sees it, and made him a bottle and started feeding him before he was meant for another feed. She only managed this once while my husband and I were preoccupied. Our baby didn’t like it, we didn’t like it, the only person that did was her.
My husband asks her why she did it. “The baby was crying,” she says, and she doesn’t see anything wrong with wanting to feed her grandbaby. Then comes the piece de resistance. “Blame your wife, if she was breastfeeding I wouldn’t have been able to.” Uh, bye bye. She’s been calling, but you’re going to need more than one insincere apology to get back into this house.
Background: My daughter goes to her grandma’s house (my mother-in-law) one afternoon per week for “grandma time.” My husband has always let it be at my discretion and I have fought my anxiety to accommodate this. My mother-in-law has tried to turn my husband and I against each other multiple times but has since figured out we are a team.
Story: Two weekends ago, my husband and I went to her house and corporal punishment for our daughter came up. We have committed to no hitting, slapping, or spanking and said no one else is to do it either. My mother-in-law said she is going to do it anyways because, “That’s how they were raised and they turned out just fine.” I informed her that she will not and my husband agreed.
She fought back and said that she will hit anyways, and in a half joking tone said, “And if you don’t like it, just don’t bring her over.” I responded in a cheery (but made it clear I took her “serious”) voice: “Okay!” She was taken aback and realized she shot herself in the foot. She tried to renege but after all the stuff she has put me through, I didn’t let her.
After we left, she called my husband and “was almost in tears” and asked that we “not stop bringing our daughter over because she loves having her there so much.” I know this woman and she doesn’t cry. She was trying to manipulate my husband, which he agreed with. Since our daughter going over there is at my discretion, I told him after the latest development I no longer chose to fight my anxiety and will no longer be taking her over.
He agreed to this. Our daughter hasn’t been there alone for almost three weeks, and my mother-in-law is not a happy camper. You want to disrespect all the decisions we make for our daughter? You’re a witch. You insist on doing things your way because “that’s how we did it and we survived.” You’re an idiot. You are going to hit her after we said no? Say bye-bye to your unsupervised visiting privilege! “Grandma time” is a privilege, not a right.
My husband and I met when my oldest daughter was almost two, and they have had an amazing bond ever since they first met. My oldest daughter has always referred to my husband as her dad. She only asked once when she was younger who her dad was, and when she got an answer she didn’t ask anymore. Her 10th birthday is in two weeks.
My husband came to me and asked about getting adoption papers as a present, and I have agreed that it should be done. My husband went over to his parents’ house recently and since he’s been a little excited about the decision, he told them. While my father-in-law is happy about it, my mother-in-law is not. She has never actually called my oldest daughter her granddaughter.
She only sees her as my daughter from a previous relationship, which I know upsets my daughter. My husband has always told her off in the past, and for a good period of time, she will treat her like a grandkid but won’t call her one. My husband and I haven’t cut her off yet because of the fact she doesn’t refer to her as a grandkid. She still is treated like a part of the family.
When my husband left his parents’ house was when mother-in-law started texting me about how my daughter wasn’t blood-related and my husband adopting her wasn’t an option. When I asked her why, all she said was, “She has a dad. Make him step up to the plate and do his job, my son shouldn’t have to do it for him.” I even tried to tell her that her son was my daughter’s father and she just dismissed what I said.
Over the next few days, she complained to anyone and everyone about it and people were calling me to say how amazing or cute the idea was. Nobody seems to agree with her, which set her off even more. She then started calling my daughter an unwanted child. That broke me and I ended up in tears. My husband walked in on me crying and consoled me while I told him everything.
He eventually went to lock himself in his office before calling to yell at his mom. I know that conversation didn’t go well and she’s been texting me ever since, calling me all sorts of names and telling me I’m a witch for starting drama about something that should not be happening at all. I completely ignored her and told my husband every time she sent me a text.
My husband had gotten his dad involved, and even though both of them were now trying to talk some sense into this woman, she wasn’t listening, My husband spent a week every night coming home from work on the phone to his dad about the situation. On Saturday, my sister-in-law had her birthday and we were supposed to go over to her house for lunch.
At the last minute on Friday, my husband was asked to fill in for someone on a business trip. He agreed, but not before asking his brother and his wife to have my back if any drama went down with the mother-in-law. The birthday lunch comes around, and my mother-in-law ignored me and my oldest daughter while my father-in-law had a few conversations with us.
An hour or so later, it all unraveled. I’m standing there talking to my brother-in-law and his wife about the adoption papers when my mother-in-law walked over and said, “No, stop it, that will not be discussed here.” She full-on got up in my face and demanded to know why I thought everything was about the adoption papers. When I told her that I had been asked, she abruptly stopped me from speaking to rant more about how it wasn’t going to happen and how nobody should have to put an unwanted child under their name.
Even though I pretty much was about to cry again, I straight-up looked her in the eye and said, “Whether you like it or not, your son wants to do it. You will not step in between just because you don’t like something.” That’s when she went over the brink. She slapped me. Everyone was surprised for a minute until she started shouting at me again and people had to drag her away from me.
All the poor kids were crying over watching what happened, and my oldest daughter was pretty much clutched to my sister-in-law. Even though my father-in-law ended up taking my mother-in-law home after what happened, I took my kids and left not long after. I sat on the couch at home with my oldest daughter, holding her while she cried for an hour about what she heard.
I managed to speak to my husband after I had put all kids to bed, and he is livid. He has left a bunch of messages for his mom but she doesn’t respond. My father-in-law called earlier this morning to offer an apology for what had happened and I’ve told him this is not his fault, but I think it’ll be affecting him for a while. I will also be looking into some counseling for my daughter. She has been a little bit attached to me since then, so I know she is taking this hard.
My mother-in-law prides herself on her crepes. It’s a major thing for their family, to the point where I wouldn’t make them for my husband for the first eight years of our relationship because the first time I did, he stood over me and said, “Hmm that’s not how my mom does it.” OK, WE’RE A PANCAKE FAMILY NOW. Anyway, recently this year for his birthday, I made him crepes because it makes the man happy.
Now we’ll probably have them a couple of times per month. Yesterday, we were at my mother-in-law’s house and she made crepes. My toddler is two and very talkative and expressive. She had already eaten breakfast, but I set her up with a crepe. She took one bite and pushed away the plate. Totally just a toddler thing, as she’d rather be playing.
I watched my mother-in-law begin to obsessively ask her, “Do you like grandmama’s crepes?!” She probably asked the kid five times in five minutes. Not one answer. She couldn’t be more done with this lady and her crepes. It was delicious to watch. Sorry lady, the kid is too young to pander to your neediness. God bless toddlers and their undeveloped brains.
So she called me. She said: “You know, it would mean so much to me if you were to name my grandchild Elizabeth.” But I had had it. I said: “Didn’t your son just tell you no? Isn’t that what he said? (She tried to interrupt, I cut her off) Did you think if you called me with your sickly sweet voice that I would somehow cave, because I can assure you all you’re doing is making me angry and tap dancing on my last nerve.”
She said: “Well, I feel I should have some sort of say in my grandchild’s naming.” Side-note: This woman has pressured her other daughters-in-law into naming their children names she has picked out. Wrong witch, wrong time, wrong day. I said: “Your feelings are irrelevant, you are not the parent.” She said: “I’m the grandmother.”
I said: “Yes, the parent of one of the parents, know your role. You can visit, dote on, spend time with our child as we as her parents deem acceptable, but please do not think your job is to raise our daughter, because it is not. So no, you do not get a say in what we name her. It is strictly between me and her dad.” I continued: “Is there anything else you want to say?”
She’s silent. I took that as a no, and just said goodnight and then I hung up. I know I might have been harsh, but with all I’m going through I just don’t have the patience. My husband is now on the phone with her, telling her she should not have upset me considering my condition. He’s beyond angry too, but honestly I’m fine. I said what I meant and I truly meant what I said.
This is one the best revenge stories I have ever heard, and is even now, years later, it’s constantly discussed when the subject of weddings or awful mothers-in-law comes up. So my friend was together with his girl for a good six years at the time of the story. Let me give you a bit of background. The whole story plays out in Germany, where the mother-in-law’s family comes from.
My friend’s wife’s family is of Sinti background. Now, Sinti and Roma do have a bad reputation here in Germany. They are called gypsies, and supposedly are all scam artists who have no real home and travel around to be always two steps ahead of the law on their heels. You get the picture. But her family is actually really well off. In fact, they are quite a bit richer than the mother-in-law’s family.
However, she did not know that, since instead of asking she decided that her prejudices are a way better source of information. They’ve lived in Germany for well over 30 years and own their own company that produces motor parts for several big car and truck companies. Now, how much the company is worth is really not all that important, but to paint a picture: They employ well over 250 people just in production alone.
The mother-in-law’s family, meanwhile, is typical middle class, nothing much to say there. The dad works an office job, and she works delivering drugs for a pharmacy a couple of hours a week. Now, there was so much leading up to the wedding. The first year of the relationship, the mother pretty much ignored he had a girlfriend.
That is, until she sees a photo and realizes the girl is a few shades too brown for her taste. This is pretty much a quote, only she said in a way less friendly way I do not want to repeat here. My friend then explained her being Sinti, and she lost it even more. It boiled down to her being a gold-digger or a scam artist, and she was constantly switching between the two.
But my friend has a backbone, and this ended with the mother being in a timeout for six months, which became over a year, since every time she tried to force contact, the time out started again at zero. Once contact was established again, the mother-in-law had realized open battle was not something she could win, so she decided to switch to guerrilla tactics.
The absolute highlight was creating two fake Facebook profiles, one for my friend and one for his ex. She sent back and forth “texts” for months to create a fake affair. Odin be thanked, she made a grave mistake. A month before, my friend was supposed to go on a four-day business trip for his company. The texts basically claimed his ex had come with him and they had wild times every night.
What the mother-in-law did not know was that friend never went there. It fell through a week prior, and he took the days off instead to do a short trip with his girlfriend. So he had the best possible alibi for the time. Otherwise, I don’t know what would have happened on the day she came into the house with printed-out screenshots from that page.
At first, his girlfriend was devastated and angry, until they found the messages about the business trip. In that moment, they both turned on the mother-in-law, who of course denied everything. It landed her with nine months of time out again. The rest of it until the engagement was constant hints at the girl not being trustworthy, bringing up news stories that showed Sinti in a negative light etc., etc.
But since they were low contact (meeting twice a year), she did not have many opportunities. Then came the engagement about one year before the wedding. Her family was over the moon of course, while the mother-in-law had a complete meltdown over the phone. The worst sentence was that she would stop this wedding if it is the last thing she would do in her life.
The actual wedding planning began, and it was a total circus. When she was asked for an address list, the mom actually gave them false addresses, in the hopes once the cards would have been returned, it would be too late to send a new batch to the actual addresses. Of course, the cards came back within a week, and this time they were smart enough to ask someone else for the addresses, and simply did not tell her.
She also started a rumor campaign that was at least partially successful, so the contact to his side of the family got worse and worse. She tried to just cancel the flowers, but since the florist knew the bride in person, he called her to confirm. After that, everything was secured with passwords. This way, they found out she also tried to cancel the venue and change the whole menu.
When they found out, they didâ¦nothing. At first. Since they wanted to embarrass her to the bone, they acted as if they knew nothing, and decided to exact their revenge on the wedding day. This was a good four months before the wedding, so it gave them ample time to plan. So the day of the wedding comes, and all the guests have entered the church and are sitting down.
The guests are informed that the wedding party would be late by about half an hour, but they would show a DVD in the meantime. And that DVD was explosive. They had collected evidence and witness accounts detailing exactly how the sneaky mother-in-law had tried to sabotage the wedding. It started with an account of the food deliverer saying that she had tried several times to change the menu.
This was followed by the florist’s story about how she had tried to cancel all the flowers for the wedding, including a message she left on the answering machine trying to act like she was the bride, but everybody could hear it was her. Up to this point, the mother-in-law had been shocked into silence. But the next part would change that.
You see, the groom’s brother had secretly recorded how she trash-talked and lied about the bride to everybody who would listen to her on Skype. Once she started to hear those words, she suddenly screeched like a banshee and stormed to the front to stop that DVD. But they had anticipated that, and before she could get even close, three gentlemen closed in on her and told her to either sit down or she would be escorted off the premise.
The film only went on for another three or so minutes anyway. Where was the bride’s family in all this? Well, they had already had a full showing of the video the day before, but were sworn to secrecy. So they acted as normal as they could until the DVD started, then just shot daggers with their eyes. Once the film was over, the father went to the altar with his wife and addressed the family of the groom.
He told them the following: “Our daughter could have accepted that you do not like her, and had tried for years to get a good relationship with all of you, but to no avail. She was either insulted or shut down. So the couple has decided your side of the family does not deserve to be at the wedding. I hereby inform you that there will not be a wedding today at all.” He paused.
“Months ago, they changed everything to a different date. My daughter and your son have married a week ago and let you believe the wedding would be today. That way we could ensure there are no further evil plans to ruin this young couple’s wedding, and we all had a wonderful time. Without any of you there, it was a day of joy, and a day where everybody was happy for the couple and supportive.”hello
“Right now they are already on their honeymoon, and will return in four weeks. Since the wedding was so much smaller than originally planned, they had a way bigger budget for that. Once they return, they do not want any contact with any of you for a year. After that, they are ready to get into contact again under certain requirements, which you will be told once the year is over.”
“ANY attempt to contact them in any form leads to the perpetrator’s year to start again at zero. I suggest you take the year to reflect on your behavior, and decide what is more important to you; to have “friend” in your life, or to treat my daughter badly, because right now he is ready to cut contact for good. But I talked him into giving you one last chance.”
Friends and family stayed very silent during this speech, probably shocked and embarrassed into silence. For what it’s worth, yes, the mother-in-law was not the only one in the family treating the bride badly, but she was the reason for it. They are back in contact with most of the family, but definitely not with the mother-in-law.
After the year was over, some sheepishly apologized and told the couple about all the lies they were told. Now the mother-in-law is a pariah for at least 80% of the family.
My husband and I got married last summer. We were limited to 10 people and planned to have a big reception this year. Our area is tentatively opening up, but almost all of our guests would be coming from out of state, including my husband’s entire family, so we decided to just cancel the celebration. As a “consolation,” we decided to go to one of our favorite places, Disney World, for our honeymoon.
I have a ton of food allergies and Disney is one of the only places I can safely eat at, meaning I won’t have to cook the whole time! We booked our package through Disney for later this summer, hoping we’ll be vaccinated by then. My husband was excited that we finally had a plan, so he mentioned it to his dad while they were talking on the phone yesterday.
No big deal. I’d told my mom and one of my aunts I’d talked to yesterday. We should be able to shareâwe’re excited! Well, I found out how wrong I was. My mother-in-law calls this morning and tells my husband to put us on speakerphone. She has the most exciting news for us. They’re joining us on our Disney trip! It’s going to be so fun.
Finally a family vacation! My mother-in-law is pumped! My father-in-law booked everything last night. She wanted to just surprise us this summer by showing up, but couldn’t hold it in anymore. Plus, she wanted me to make us all matching shirts. WHAT. This was supposed to be our honeymoon. The only “normal” part of the wedding experience we didn’t get to have, and the in-laws decided to crash it.
Thankfully she “couldn’t contain her excitement” so we had a heads up. My husband, without my prompting, called Disney and got the dates switched and told me not to share with anybody just in case, with the exception of my mom closer to because she’ll babysit our dogs. I’ve had some creeping doubts about my husband’s willingness to stand up to his mom in the past, but I am SO beyond happy with how he responded.
He’s not planning on telling his parents we switched the dates we’re going. His comment was, “They’re getting what they deserve.”
I got married a couple of years ago. It was a small wedding with our close friends and family and went along smoothly. At first, my mother agreed to come, then five weeks before we got married she said, “I can’t come because it’s on a Sunday and I’ll miss church.” I wasn’t bothered. I said “okay” because it wasn’t like I was truly missing anything by her not being there anyways.
Five weeks pass, wedding prep is done, and we’ve made sure to work around those who had to cancel as well as a few extra things. The day before the wedding, my mother sends my wife and I this long paragraph that basically boils down to: “God told me that church is more important than a wedding.” Again, fine, thanks Mom I get it.
The day of the wedding comes, everything runs smoothly, and a ton of photos are uploaded to Facebookâ¦and then my mother sees it. A couple of hours into the night, I’m with my in-laws and a couple of friends, and my phone buzzes. I open it up and lo and behold, my mother! The message from this oh so lovely woman boils down to this: “I can’t believe you didn’t include me in the wedding! You replaced me! I can’t believe you!”
I just responded, “It’s not replacing. You didn’t show up to the wedding, not my problem.” She started calling me several times and left voicemails of her crying, yelling, screaming, saying how just because she went to church instead of my wedding doesn’t mean she didn’t want to go. Thenâ¦why didn’t you go? I knew she was trying to play some weird manipulation game with me, so I just muted her and let her ride out her wave ofâ¦whatever the heck she was on.
She then messaged my mother-in-law and started spamming her with strange nonsense, which prompted my mother-in-law to block her and not respond. She calls me a few days later, crying and asking me to forgive her, saying that “she just wants her daughter to love her.” I respond with: “Don’t contact me unless it’s absolutely an emergency.”
My son passed over a year ago when he was seven, and it’s been hard on everyone in the family, obviously. My mother-in-law was pretty close with him. She babysat him for me while I worked, until he passed. I felt more comfortable leaving him with her as she was a nurse. He was born at 24 weeks and had cerebral palsy and was generally medically fragile.
My mother-in-law and I aren’t too close. At first she didn’t like me but seemed to warm up once we had kids. She still babysits for us when needed, which is less often these days. We had my son cremated. When he was cremated, my mother-in-law suggested that we get a few smaller urns and split up the ashes so we can all have an urnâthe in-laws, my parents, and us.
Obviously that did NOT go down well with me and I said no. She seemed to admit it was a bad idea and didn’t mention it again. For mother’s day this year, we planned on getting my mother-in-law and my mom a necklace with some of his ashes in, which she knew about as she’d been asking for one. We were up for it (I fancied one myself so was going to get us all one) but we never got around to doing it.
She seemed pretty irritated by that at the time but never mentioned it again and thanked us for the other gift we sent her. A few days ago, she babysat my daughter at my house. Today I was cleaning and while I was cleaning the shelf that we have for our son for some of his things (pictures, trophies from baseball, ornaments, etc), I noticed a detail that sent a chill down my spine.
His urn was gone. Naturally I freaked out. I asked my daughter if she’d moved it even though she can’t reach. It has NEVER been moved in the time it’s been there. My mother-in-law is the only other person that has been in the house, so I called her. She owned up to it right away and explained she took them so she can “spend some time with him”!??? and get the ashes sent off for her gift because she was disheartened that I didn’t get it sorted in time for mother’s day.
She hid the urn in her bag so I wouldn’t notice, and took it home. I told her she was completely out of order and demanded she bring the ashes back as I did not give her permission to TAKE HIS ASHES from his house and his family, but she said as his grandma she has every right to “have him for a while.” Screw. That. Even if she’d asked I probably would have said no, but I’m in complete shock that she would just TAKE him like that?!?
She says she will bring his urn back tomorrow and told me not to be angry about it because what’s done is done, but every time I think about it I get so angry. I’m so worried now that she won’t even bring him back.
I started working when I was 13 for a friend of the family’s restaurant as a dishwasher and groundskeeper. My friend started working at 12 at his dad’s catering company. My friend and I met when he was hired at a restaurant I had just started at as a prep cook six months before. I was 16 and he was 20 at the time. He coached me and grew me and eventually got me onto the line within a few months.
At 21, his father passed unexpectedly and he left the restaurant to take over the family business, asking me to come work for him from time to time. His father’s clients were all big old money, and so my friend kept to that demographic at first, which is why we have such a sordid collection of tales to tell. I think that’s enough background for now, so back to what ya’ll really came for: Super Cop and Super Human.
We start with the catering consultation. The wedding planner had changed three times already before this couple even came to visit us, and the appointment kept getting rescheduled. We almost rejected the contract because it was becoming a waste of our time. The day of the consultation came and they actually showed up, both the mothers with the bride and groom in tow.
The wedding planner didn’t show, but we kept the consultation going and would email all relevant paperwork later. The mothers of the bride and groom were the best of friends, and they were so excited they got to plan their kids’ wedding together and faaaaamily, and the future of family names preserved. It was during this rant that my friend cut them off and spoke directly to the bride and groom.
Friend: “I want to know what you two want. What cuisine do you like? What style of service would you like? Bride’s Mother (BM) jumps in: “They want a full service buffet with carving stations, hors d’oeuvres, and cocktail hour, and the cake will be from this bakery.” Friend: “I’m sorry ma’am, I thought this consultation was for the bride and groom. If you want a consultation for your own wedding, you will have to book one with my assistant.”
BM: “Excuse me, but I know more than these two kids do, I planned my wedding myself you know.” Groom’s mother (GM): “Now BM, let’s just sit with the assistant, it is our kids’ day and they should be choosing what they like.” Friend: “How about this, you two ladies can sit with my assistant and give him all the details of what you are thinking, and I will give the bride and groom a private tasting.”
BM: “Fine, but I better see every piece of paper before it’s signed.” I take the ladies to another part of the office and listen to BM overtake everything, occasionally pointing out that a handsome young man such as myself shouldn’t disappoint my mother when it’s her time to plan my wedding. I just nod and smile and do my best to keep them busy while my friend gets the real story from the bride and groom.
Back at the main consult. Friend: “So I can already tell there’s some tension, so let me assure you that my company has nothing but the best intentions to make your wedding day as grand as you envision. You, the bride and groom, are our first priority.” Groom to bride: “I told you they shouldn’t have come. My mom caves to her every whim, and we will get railroaded.”
Bride to groom: “I know, but I couldn’t say no, she says it’s her God-given right to plan this and I don’t know what else to do.” Friend: “Let me assure you that my assistant is merely hearing their suggestions, this is the real consult. But before we go further, if we cater your wedding, who will be signing and paying for our services?”
Groom: “Us, I won’t have a dime of their money be involved with our day.” Friend: “Perfect!” They proceed with the rest of the consultation, going over menu options, service styles, table set ups, time tables, and coordinating with the bakery. The last thing they went over was allergies. The groom has a very severe allergy to peanuts, which has apparently been a problem with the bride’s mother.
She believes it’s a mind-over-matter thing, just keep eating them and you’ll get over it eventually. Except the groom’s allergy is basically: touch nut, full anaphylactic shock. We jot down a huge note that peanuts will not be anywhere near this wedding. Before the consult wraps up, my friend suggests putting passwords on the account.
You never know who might try to change something. The bride says no, but before they leave the groom pulls my friend aside and says absolutely, but please don’t give it to bride. After their appointment ended and everyone left, I went straight to my friend and I compared notes. As we suspected, the bride and groom wanted something almost entirely different than the mother wanted, but since the bride and groom were paying and signing the contract, we shredded her plans.
The bride and groom opted for a plated dinner for 80, with a cocktail hour. The bakery would deliver the cake and their staff would handle it. All was relatively quiet with this contractâuntil three weeks before the wedding hit. That’s when a huge man came to our office. He said he was here about his cousin’s wedding and gave the proper password.
My friend and I sat down with him and he introduced himself as the bride’s cousin and said he’s worried about the wedding. Earlier that week, the groom was admitted to the hospital after going into anaphylactic shock. The bride’s mother lied to the bride and groom and fed him a meal where at some point peanut oil was used. He witnessed the whole thing.
When he confronted his aunt (the bride’s mom), she said “It’s a mind-over-matter thing!” He wanted us to be aware that both the mother and father were uninvited and banned from the wedding, bride’s orders. There was a lot of drama with the other vendors and general wedding planning, and this was the final straw. This bouncer also wanted us to know that he was an officer, and he’ll be providing security at the wedding.
He brought three of his officer friends with him and left one in the kitchen to keep the mother from sneaking in and ruining any more food. The day of the wedding was mostly drama-freeâ¦until the reception started and the bride’s mother and father showed up with a gaggle of their friends and tried to force their way into the wedding.
The bouncer took no nonsense, and my friend and I backed him up as best we could. They were ejected from the reception. The mother tried one final time as the reception ended. She sat in her car until the bride and groom were visible, then gunned her car at them. The bouncer rushed them out of the way and she smashed her car into the reception hall’s front door.
My friend and I witnessed the whole thing from the parking lot and rushed over to make sure the bride and groom were safe. We gave our statements to officers, and the mother was detained. The couple was shaken but not harmed. A few weeks after the wedding, the bouncer showed up to our office again. He thanked us for everything we did to help his cousin enjoy her day.
He told us that the groom told him everything we did distracting the mother and setting up passwords. He was grateful for everything we did and gave us his card, saying that anytime we needed security he’d be sure to have our backs. Not long after this, he was shot in the line of duty and took a leave of absence from the force for a bit to clear his head.
Since he had previous experience as a bartender, we hired him on and he has been with us ever since. He still works as an officer, but only at a desk in the precinct, and eventually, he’d like to open his own bar. He has a heart of gold and the brawn of an ox, and we are glad to call him part of our team. Meanwhile, the bride’s mother went behind bars and was cut out of the bride and groom’s life.
The father divorced her. The happy couple just had a little bundle of joy a year ago, and are asking us to cater the baptism. The groom’s mother was very apologetic for just going along with the bride’s mom and was able to salvage the relationship with the couple. Oh, and my friend and I were sued for damages, slander and breaking contract, by the bride’s mother. The case was laughed out of court.
I have been low contact with my mother-in-law for a few years. My husband is not. I don’t relay any information to her, and I make everything go through my husband. The entire family states that the mother-in-law has a hearing problem, but it seems to be just my words that get twisted by her. My mom passed years before I met my husband.
My mom loved the holidays and always had poinsettias around the house at Christmas. To help keep my mom close to me at Christmas, I also have poinsettias around the house. It’s because of this that my husband knew the gift he found to give me from our kids was perfect. It was a tabletop wooden angel that had poinsettias on her dress and was holding garland of poinsettias.
It was perfect and I loved it as soon as I saw it. My father-in-law passed just before Christmas, and it has been hard on all of us. He was a wonderful man. Since we have the youngest children in the family, my husband wanted my mother-in-law to be there to watch the kids open gifts Christmas morning. I was fine with this. She would come over early and the rest of the in-laws would be over later in the afternoon.
We stopped exchanging gifts between the adults years ago and just exchanged between the kids. However, I wanted my mother-in-law to have a couple things to open, since she would be with us when we opened gifts. My kids made her ornaments and glittered pinecones, and we got her some mints that she liked. It was a couple of small things like that.
When I opened the angel from my kids that day, I loved it. I went over to the kitchen table to take it out of the box and really look at it. My mother-in-law happened to be sitting there at the time. I asked her if she saw the angel they gave me for Christmas, and I explained why I loved it so much and how it reminded me of my mom.
The angel even had my mom’s hair color. I explained how it meant so much to me and that I would probably keep it out all year long as a reminder of my mom. I then left it on the table. I should add that my mother-in-law also saw me unwrap the gift and watched as I hugged my children after opening it. Anyway, I left it sitting on the table because everyone else started arriving.
It did get a little hectic with gift exchanges between the kids and we ended up outside for a bit. When I came back, my angel had disappeared. I thought it might have gotten moved to make room at the table and figured it would show up. Ohhhhâ¦..it showed upâ¦.at my mother-in-law’s house. I haven’t seen it there, my husband did. My mother-in-law called a few days after Christmas and asked my husband to come in for a bit to do some things around her house.
He then brought her back to our house for dinner because she wanted to see our kids. While we’re eating dinner, my mother-in-law gets a big smile on her face and is telling me that she loves her new angel and she wants me to have it when she passes. At this point, I don’t realize that she is talking about my angel that I’ve been looking for all over and trying to find.
She then mentioned how she loves the poinsettias on it. That’s what got me to look up and see that smug grin on her face. I looked at my husband and he gave me the look that “we’ll talk about it later.” After she went back home, my husband and I discuss it. He says when he walked into her house, he immediately saw it and did a double-take on it.
My husband usually has good boundaries when it comes to his mother. This time he didn’t. He said she loves it so much and with his father just having passed, he doesn’t want to take it from her. He truly believes that she misheard me and my mother-in-law thinks it was a gift to her from our kids. WHAT?!?! She watched me unwrap it.
Why would I unwrap it if it was meant for her?!? She really didn’t hear anything I said of how it reminded me of my mother?!? Instead, he wants to find a duplicate online for me. I asked why we couldn’t just buy her a different angel and he can go trade her for my angel. He doesn’t want to be insensitive since she just lost her husband and she obviously wanted the angel.
I would go myself and do it, but I don’t think I’ll get a good reaction from her. She’ll probably answer the door and say “WHAT are you doing here?” She’s done that to me before when I’ve gone to her house to help take her to a doctor’s appointment.
My first Christmas with my husband, we were invited to his aunt’s house to celebrate with his family. I had never met any of them, since they live pretty far away and we eloped. Two weeks before, my mother-in-law calls my husband to ask him about my allergies, since I have several severe allergies and require at least three epi-pens on me at all times.
I thought that was really sweet! My husband told her most of my allergies are bug bites, animal dander, and several medications, but a major food allergy I have is shellfish and raw fish. When cooked, I’ll have a reaction to fish that to normal people would be severe but non-lethal. However, when raw I’ll go into anaphylactic shock almost instantly and stop breathing in less than a minute.
There is no fish in my house, ever. I don’t eat at restaurants that serve fish. It’s a major part of my life since I live in a very seafood-heavy area. On Christmas Eve, we were all opening presents and at some point my mother-in-law and husband’s aunt say my gift isn’t under the tree because it’s in the freezer. I’m confused, but that sounds super intriguing.
They bring out a box that’s blue cardboard and unmarked. I open it and nearly scream. It’s a variety pack of frozen fish filets. I literally threw the box out of my lap and my husband RUNS to the kitchen, grabs an epi-pen and hit me in the thigh. With my allergies, you don’t wait for a reaction to respond, you start immediately.
We’re about 70 miles out of the city, so my husband is already on the phone with 9-1-1 and we run to the car. THANKFULLY I don’t end up reacting badly to it, probably due to the box being frozen and the fish being individually wrapped, but being that far out of a populated area with only three pens can be lethal for me. When the reaction is severe enough, I’ll burn through an epi-pen in about 10-15 minutes before starting up again, and then I need an IV and an emergency room.
We got to the hospital and other than hives on my hands, I’m fine. I’m monitored for six hours to wait for a delayed reaction and sent home. When we got home, my husband had about a dozen sobbing voicemails from his mom saying WE ruined Christmas with our way over-the-top reaction to a thoughtful gift. She said she had “forgotten” and that we owed them all an apology.
We later found out it was the aunt that asked her sister to inquire about my allergies so she could cook safely for me. My mother-in-law told her I didn’t have any food allergies and suggested the gift. We’ve been no contact for six years.
Where I live, it’s quite common for people to break into cars to get handicapped permits, so when I get home I take mine out and keep it inside the house. It’s stored in a cabinet near the doorway, right where we keep our car keys. My mother-in-law came over on Monday because she was helping my sister-in-law move into her new apartment.
The sister had asked us to keep some of her stuff in our garage while she looked for a place, so my mother-in-law was helping her take her boxes there. She’d fill up her car with boxes, unload them at the new place, and come back for more. My husband was at work. I work from home and haven’t been feeling well these few days.
My mother-in-law knows that I wouldn’t drive if I wasn’t feeling okay and she also knows where I keep the placard. Without telling me, she takes the placard and puts it in her car so she can park in the handicapped parking space at my sister-in-law’s apartment complex so it’s closer to the entrance and easier to unload boxes. The only issue was that at some point, officers caught her.
They ran the placard, found out it wasn’t hers, and wrote her up and confiscated it. Now I have to apply for a new permit, and my mother-in-law may be facing fines up to $3,000. Mainly because this ISN’T HER FIRST PARKING OFFENCE. Like, what? Apparently, she’s parked in handicapped spots before and got caught twice. I’m so angry and so is my husband.
The cherry on top? She can’t afford any fines over a few hundred dollars and is asking the family to chip in to help her pay. In order to apply for a new permit, I’ll need a letter from my doctors stating why I need the permit, etc. I’ve been trying to get an appointment with my doctor even before my mother-in-law pulled this and I haven’t been able to. I can’t. I’m so tired of this already.
I feel like I’m in some bad wedding movie where the parents of the bride do everything possible to ruin the wedding. I received this text from my dad’s parents on Wednesday: “Unfortunately, your celebration and your mom and dad’s celebration are at the same time. Grandma and I have thought long and hard as to what we should do and have finally decided that we will go to your mom and dad’s anniversary and not come to your wedding, as painful as this is.”
“We love you and wish you well in your future relationship. We know it’s an exciting time and hope all your plans and dreams will be realized. Please stay in touch and let us know how you are doing and if you need anything. Much Love âGran & Grandpa.” I am livid at my parents; this was the first I’d heard of it. I simply said I was disappointed, asked them not to contact me again, and then blocked their number.
I had a vague idea that something weird was happening when I received a message from a probably-not guest who told me that she hadn’t received the invitation yet but to message her. So I did, giving her details and asking if she was coming or not. She said she’d get back to me as my mom’s event was on the same day. I just didn’t realize what this “event” was.
Y’all. My parents got married in DECEMBER. My wedding is at the end of SEPTEMBER. I got an email from my mom the same day I got the text from my grandparents. I won’t include it in this post because it’s long, but she mentioned how she “had a celebration next weekend with 40 of her closest family and friends.” Family and friends from MY guest list.
Still, the people we actually want will be there and that’s all that matters. But just, what the actual heck. Who DOES THAT??? My uncle and his family also backed out, but they’re weird and I don’t care about them coming anyway. He texted me, a month and a half after I sent him a text asking if they were still coming, that they weren’t coming and he “hoped my relationship with my parents got better going forward as that’s important in the future.”
I didn’t ask for your unsolicited advice. I asked you to confirm whether your kid was still my flower girl. At least now I know my mom 100% will not be crashing! That’s one thing I don’t have to worry about anymore! Things for the wedding are coming together and I don’t think it’s going be a complete circus now that I don’t have to worry about that, so that’s good.
So let me tell the story of how my friend saved a boy from a mistake his grandmother made. Two weeks ago, said friend and I went to the cinema to watch Glass. We get in line at the snack stand behind an older woman and a little boy, I’d guess he was four or five years old. She tells him, “You can have anything you like, just pick! But don’t tell mommy!”
This was a red flag to me being a lurker over here. Anyhow, the boy picks a Mr. Tom bar, which is peanuts covered in caramel/honey (?) or some such sugary glue. Does anyone see where this is going yet? The grandma gets her stuff and pays, and they go toward the staircase leading to the theaters and we order our stuff. By the time we’re done, I had pretty much forgotten all about them.
But when we got halfway up the stairs, all heck broke loose. The boy suddenly falls down in front of us, the grandma a few steps ahead of him. At first I thought he just tripped or missed a step, but he was coughing. We didn’t notice right away as we were chatting, but my friend worked in childcare before and crouched down to help him up.
He looks at her and tries to say something but can’t get a word out. The grandma gets upset and tells my friend to step away and tells the boy to get up. My friend says: “I think he has trouble breathing.” “No way, he just fell and is upset, get away!” in a ticked-off tone from grandma. The boy now starts wheezing and putting his hands to his face, the candy bar falling down.
Now, at first my friend thought a piece of the bar went into the wrong pipe, and patted the boy on the back quite heavily. As the wheezing gets worse, my friend realizes much faster than me what is going on and tells the grandma: “He can’t breathe, is he allergic? Do you have an epi-pen or medication?” She loses it and starts crying because she doesn’t have anything with her.
My friend shouts to the crowd that a child is having an allergic reaction and if anyone has an epi-pen. A man comes running with a pen and she administers it. By this time a crowd has formed, but everyone is just standing and staring while the grandma is crouched next to the boy, crying over him. My friend has to remove her to give him space to breathe.
I am frozen in place, completely useless. My friend looks at me and pretty firmly tells me to call an ambulance. I would have botched that too, if the man on the line didn’t remain calm and talk me through what he needed to know. About five minutes later (man those were long) the ambulance arrives and takes the kid away. My friend offers to drive the grandma to the hospital.
Now, the rest of this is hearsay, as I can only report what my friend told me went down. In the car, my friend tells the still sobbing grandma to call the boy’s parents. She says, “I’ll call my son.” As my friend tells it, she could hear the father scream through the phone that he and his wife told her multiple times about his allergy and if the kid died, that was on her.
At the hospital, my friend left her information with one of the nurses in case an investigation was going to be done. She then quickly got out of there because the parents arrived and a shouting match with grandma ensued. So why am I telling this now? Today, the mother and the little boy called my friend and said they would like to send her a thank-you card for all her help.
The mother said that the boy made a full recovery and she was grateful for her son’s life. After a few questions, it became clear that the little boy is not allowed to be alone with grandma from now on and he got his very own cool backpack (Batman) with emergency medicine! Happy ends for all! ð
My mother-in-law and I don’t have the greatest relationship over the two months I’ve been married to her daughter. We got married after my then-girlfriend moved into my apartment. When we decided to get hitched, she didn’t want to tell her parents and sent them a letter instead. They wanted her to marry a guy from church, and they’d had it figured out since she was in elementary school.
My parents came to the ceremony becauseâ¦they actually like both of us. I was at work yesterday and the mother-in-law texted me around 10 am and asked me if I would be interested in getting dinner with her after I got off. I thought this was mad weird because I’m pretty sure both my mother and father-in-law hate my guts. She texted me the address, and it was the most expensive steakhouse in our city.
I let my wife know about these post-work plans and that I’d be late. Well, this woman wanted to talk about us and how she thought I was going to ruin her daughter’s life. My dad always tells me when I’m not sure what to say, listen more than I speak lest I say something stupid. She asked if my wife was pregnantâ¦and I said no.
Her next question was then, what reason was there to get married? I said I love her and didn’t see the point in waiting. Her whole attitude changed from warm and curious to really apathetic. I assumed we were going to do separate bills or that she was just paying because she invited me. She asked for the check, one check. The waiter placed it in the middle of the tableâ¦and she asked if I was going to get it.
I thought she was joking. This woman’s car could probably pay off my student debt twice. I laughed uncomfortably and she pushed it toward me. It’s a good thing I’m used to getting the cheapest thing on the menu (chicken). I got the same thing for my wife, so my part of the bill came up to like $70 for both our orders. She got a $200 steak.
I told her I’d pay for my orders, started to take out some bills, and she said that that was poor manners. I do okay for us (my wife’s still looking for work), but not “I can drop almost $300 on dinner” okay. My hand physically would not allow me to place my debit card in the book for that amount. I asked her to excuse me because I had to call my dad.
I then paid separately and left without telling her mom. When I was waiting for the train, I felt a lot of things. Stupid, inadequate (because I couldn’t pay that, almost like I wasn’t living up to this standard she’d created for her daughter). But I got several texts and calls from my mother-in-law, which I dismissed but took a minute to look at my lock screen, which is a picture of my wife from her college graduation last year, and I felt happier.
I told her about it when I got home, and she broke down laughing that I left her mom in the restaurant.
For as long as I can remember, my mom liked to tell the story of how my brother gave me a nickname when he was a toddler. The story goes like this: my brother was little, just learning to talk. He hasn’t learned to say my name yet, though in all fairness, it’s a fairly difficult name for small children to say. One day, she realizes that while he doesn’t say my actual name, he has given me a nickname.
That nickname? “Way.” At first, she’s confused. It’s cute! But where did it come from? Then one day, I was getting into typical toddler shenanigans, and by shenanigans, I mean trying to sit on her lap while she’s holding my brother. She pushes me away and says, “(my full name) GO AWAY!” To which my brother giggled and said, “Way!”
And that was when she realized that she had told me to “go away” so often as a kid that my brother thought that was my name. She looooved to tell that story, thinking it was just so adorable. I grew up thinking that as well. It took me almost 30 years and having kids to realize that it wasn’t.
Yesterday, my husband, our two kids, and me got back from a family vacation. This vacation was planned, and my mother-in-law knew we were going. We came home to a nightmare. We found out this morning that she reported my husband missing on day two of our two-week vacation. We think it’s because he didn’t reply to her messages the second she sent them, so she decided to take drastic measures.
We’re not in full contact with my mother-in-law, and she’s been upping her crazy in the last few years, especially since we got married. We’re probably somewhere between medium and low contact. She’s also on a pretty strict information diet. We pretty much only tell her things when it’s too late for her to mess them up, or when we have no choice because other family members (or our kids, which has happened a few times) have let slip information that they didn’t realize we were keeping from her.
We’ve talked to the authorities this morning and said that we want it noted wherever possible that she filed a false report. They’ve said they can’t do more than that because technically they “found” my husband because he was missing for over 10 days. But he was on a planned vacation. What. The. Actual. Heck? I justâ¦I just don’t know what to do anymore!
Turns out the pictures weren’t “destroyed while uploading them.” You know? The pictures of my child’s first Christmas? That Christmas where my mother-in-law wouldn’t let anyone else take any other photos because her camera was so much better than what we had? That one where she called me to tell me in the most laconic tone of voice that she had lost them all?
The ones she heard me cry over losing, several times? Yeah, she had those all along. My baby sister nonchalantly swiped past them on her phone while showing me something else, and I about half lost my mind. Apparently the whole family has them except me. Why? Why would you do this to a new mom? This was years before I ever opposed her in any significant way.
What could she have possibly gotten out of taking my baby’s first Christmas pictures from me?! What the heck?? I went no contact years ago for something completely unrelated, but this came out of left field for me, and I sobbed on my husband in the kitchen like a child. It was just so unexpectedly incredibly mean, and I honest to God don’t get why.
I’m still angry. At least I have them now, and my baby was exactly as adorable as I remember. But looking at the pictures now I’m seeing something neither my husband or I noticed at the time. I’m happy and smiling at my baby in all of them, and she looks completely furious/silently seething/like she’s sucking on a bag of lemons in every. single. one.
We have a nice security camera set up with the “ring doorbell” and a bunch of other connected cameras. My favorite new feature is the intercom. There can be a bit of a delay, but I can open the app on my phone to see what’s happening live and then I can choose to talk through the speaker attached to it. Like a dutiful wife, I’ve been using it to scare the bejeezus out of my husband.
The best part is having saved footage of him almost dropping our groceries. Muah ha ha. He’s been getting me back. It’s good fun and it means we’re both checking it often. I was secretly hoping to be able to use it on my awful mother-in-lawâand yesterday I got my chance! I got an alert of movement on my phone when I was at work. I stepped out to somewhere I could have some privacy and I watched.
She was peeking through windows at the side of the house, where the kitchen is. She worked her way from left to right and looked through each window, then started looking through the windows in the front. I also saw her pull out her phone and use the flashlight to try to see in better. My husband and I have been drawing the curtains every morning to prevent just this, so she probably didn’t see much.
First thing I did was text my husband: “Pleeeease let me have this!” He agreed in exchange for me making dinner. Fair. I started giggling as she moved closer to the front of the house, because I was so excited to freak her out. I had to think about taxes and trips to the dentist to stifle my laughter and sound serious enough for this to work.
Finally she was at the front door. I turned it on and said “INTRUDER. DETECTED. INTRUDER. DETECTED. COMMENCING COUNTDOWN. 60 SECONDS TO VACATE PROPERTY. INTRUDER. DETECTED. 55 SECONDSâ¦” and so on. She wasn’t around to hear much of it. She scampered off like a cat that wandered too close to an automatic sprinkler.
My mother-in-law is a judgemental old bat who doesn’t understand or like me, or really her son. In the past, she’s expressed her opinions about every aspect of our lives being “strange” to her. I thought we had come to a nice point about jewelry, but apparently not. I only mildly care, because I’m pretty low contact with her at this point.
My husband is going to Florida by himself next weekend, and my mother-in-law is confused. Background: Because my father was tacky enough to pass during the holiday season, without even considering her plans, I haven’t seen her in months. My husband dealt with his family entirely during this time, and sheltered me from any comments she made after she told me that she wanted him to go to her stupid party instead of my father’s funeral.
I’ve spent the last few months dealing with will and banking issues, as well as supporting my mom. My work has been super supportive and flexible, but still taken all my PTO and I’m doing a lot of “work from home” and catch up at weird hours/weekends, whatever. I cannot take a vacation right now. At the same time, we live in a winter place, and while this winter hasn’t been the worst, my husband still wants/needs some sunshine, and I want a husband who isn’t moping around with Seasonal Affective Disorder.
I have absolutely no spoons for him right now, so off to Florida he goes, while I will probably spend the weekend catching up on work. Usually we would take a week in March or a mini-break around now, but it won’t work for us this year. All caught up? Great. So, we had dinner with them a few days ago, and my husband mentions this plan.
MIL: “â¦So you’re leaving her by herself.” Me: (foolishly thinks she cares that I clearly need a break as well, and/or to express some sort of concern for my well-being): “Well I wish Iâ¦” MIL: (voice rising)” How do you two even stay together?? This isn’t even a real marriage! You have separate names and bank accounts and you won’t have children and YOU DON’T EVEN WEAR HIS RING!!”
Me: “â¦..Nope.” I got up, told them goodnight, and left the restaurant. I think she was sputtering something, but I honestly only heard buzzing. As I was waiting for a Lyft, my husband found me. His dad called, and he answered and said, “I’ll call you guys in a few days. Keep her away from us until then.” She hasn’t reached out to me, and if she has to my husband he’s keeping it to himself.
My boyfriend and are a gay couple, and we’ve been together for four years now. Since gay marriage is illegal where we live, we won’t be able to get married but still, I have a mother-in-law. And quite a nasty one. When her son told her he’s gay, she didn’t believe him because, in her mind, gay men are feminine, fluttering their hands and speaking in high-pitched voices.
My boyfriend is masculine, so he doesn’t fit into her stereotypes and must be joking about being gay. When he brought me over to meet his mother, she realized it’s true after all and there was a scandal, a huge scandal. My mother-in-law didn’t talk to him for a few months, then she decided that she might as well get to know the person her son is together with.
The first thing she asked me was what I do for a living and I told her I’m a police officer. As soon as I said it, she started laughing uncontrollably. It looked as if she was having a seizure, she couldn’t stop laughing. My boyfriend and I, we couldn’t understand what was so funny about it and he was like, “Mom, what are you laughing about?”
She calmed down and was like, “You’re right, that’s actually not funny at all. Officers should be real, tough men. If fairies work there now, soon we won’t be able to go on a street, because criminals will bloom like crazy.” She looked at me again and said “I thought you were a hairdresser in the best-case scenario. Not an officer.” That’s actually nothing new for me.
Many people have told me they would have never thought I’m an officer when they first met me. I don’t know why, maybe because I look younger than I am (I’m 30). But they were nice about it, but my mother-in-law for some reason said it with a tint of evil in her voice. Ironically, that’s how my boyfriend and I met each otherâhe was partying, made a couple of stupid decisions that led to me detaining him, and it all kind of unfolded from there.
But that’s not even the real story behind this post. It was just a bit of an introduction so that you’d understand what she’s like. The real problem was that some renovation is going on right now in her house and she needed a place to stay for two weeks. She wanted to come and live with us, my husband and me, and we decidedâwhy not?
Let’s be good people, it’s just two weeks. Well, wrong. Before we kicked her out, she stayed with us for five days only and it was a nightmare. First, she didn’t respect the way we live. Of course, she didn’t have to go to bed when we go to bed, but she could at least behave quietly. As soon as we turned off the lights in our room, she started running through the house like crazy, to the kitchen and back, to the bathroom and back.
She wasn’t even trying to be quiet; it sounded as if she was deliberately thumping her feet on the floor. Honestly, an elephant in the house would have made less noise. Whenever we talked to her about it, she was like, “Well, what can I do if I’m hungry or need to use the bathroom? If you were tired, you would sleep, nothing would bother you.”
One night I got sick and tired of it because I had an early shift the next day. I came up to her and I said, “I think you have forgotten that I’m an officer and what you’re doing is an offense. It’s night time and you’re disturbing the peace. I’m giving you a warning now, but if you continue, I’m detaining you, and tomorrow we’re going to the station together and you’re facing charges.”
She complained to my boyfriend that I was threatening her, but he didn’t defend her and I guess I scared her because noise at night was no longer an issue after that. She also had disgusting habits. She would never do dishes; she just put her dirty plate or cup in the sink and waited for us to wash it. Or she would eat a candy, not finish it and just stick it onto something.
We found candies stuck on the side of the table, windowsills, and sides of chairs all the time. She would cut her nails in the bathtub and just leave them there, and when you get inside the bath, you step right onto the nails with your bare feet. It’s simply disgusting. I don’t know if she does this in her own house too, I’ve only been there once but everything seemed clean. But the last straw happened just a few days ago.
That’s when we were likeâhit the road, mother-in-law. It was at night, and we were in our room and my boyfriend wanted to get intimate. At first, I didn’t feel comfortable with it, as his mother was just a few rooms away from us, but then I thoughtâit’s night, it’s late, she must be sleeping and we’ll be quiet. And we were quiet, to hear us you’d have to literally press your ear against our door.
Well, that’s what she was doing I guess, because the door suddenly swung open. She came inside, turned on the light, and started screaming, “What is going on in here, what are you doing, why are you naked, have you got no shame?! My son, I didn’t raise you like that!” I was like, what do you think is going on? Like, we’re in our house, we’re a couple, we’ve been together for four years, we love each other.
Do you really think we don’t ever sleep together? Are you that deluded? So the next day we told her to pack her bags and move out. My boyfriend gave her enough money for a hotel, where she can stay until her house is ready to live in again. We explained that we cannot live with her, because she obviously doesn’t know what “sanitary” means and doesn’t respect our privacy.
She was wailing and crying loudly for what seemed like forever. My boyfriend even had to pack her bag for her because she was sitting on the sofa, refusing to move. If she had behaved like a normal human being, this could have been different but she is who she is and we cannot have her in our house for another week or we’ll go crazy. When she finally left, she looked at us so very hatefully.
Dear universe: I would like to surrender my superpower of “attracting crazy people.” If an equivalent exchange is required and requests are permitted, I would like to instead have the superpower of “instantly identifying title, artist name, and release year of any song after hearing three seconds’ worth of the track.” Thank you for your time; I await your reply.
So, while I’m waiting to see if my superpower exchange goes through, here’s a story about how my superpower exchange has not gone through. I innocently went to the drugstore to fill a prescription and this happened. While I’m sitting in the pharmacy waiting area, a young mother and an older woman are in the baby supplies aisle.
The young mom looks, frankly, like dung on a Triscuit. She’s pasty, her hair is lank, she’s wearing a profoundly rumpled set of scrub pants and shirt that aren’t matched in color, has no jewelry aside from a wedding ring, and she has the exhausted, thousand-yard stare of someone for whom sleep is but a curious fusion of cruel joke and fond memory.
She’s leaning on the push bar of the cart as if it’s the only thing holding her upright. In the cart is a carseat with a baby in it, and the kid is engaged in intense fussing noises, punctuated about every 10 seconds by a wrenching hiccup. The older woman is flawless, turned out in a stylish emerald-green twinset, with slacks one shade darker.
Her hair is a 1940s-Rita-Hayworth cascade of glossy dark waves, not a strand out of place. She’s wearing Louboutin pumps, diamond earrings, an array of tasteful rings on her manicured hands, a PanthÃ¨re de Cartier-style gold and enamel leopard draping around her neck. Her makeup is camera-ready. And her peach-slicked lips are flapping nonstop, venting criticism.
“My son” should have picked someone who could keep herself put together better. “My son” should be taking care of these things. “My son” doesn’t understand how much trouble it is to take time out of a busy day to do a run to the drugstore. “My son” ought to understand how important the business deal is that she’s brokering. Also, she doesn’t see why her daughter-in-law is breastfeeding when formula is so much easier to deal with.
Yes, of course, it’s far easier to buy, store, transport, measure, mix, and prepare formula than it is to pop out a breast that literally dispenses infant sustenance by itself and feed the sprog at any time or place. She’s apparently able to breathe through her skin, because I swear she didn’t interrupt her rant for anything as mundane as respiration.
And this goes on for five solid minutes while the daughter-in-law stares at the shelves and, I suspect, daydreams about going temporarily deaf. As the baby’s fussing ramps up, the mother-in-law stops abruptly, forcing the daughter-in-law to halt the cart suddenly to avoid plowing over her (I privately wished she would). The mother-in-law turns around to lean over the baby and coo in the most unbearably irritating voiceâ¦
MIL: “Aww, whassamatter, baaaaabyyyy?! Is Mama not doing anything to stop those terrible, teeeerrible hiccups?!?!” My eye spasms. My hands close into fists. And then my mouth opens by itselfâ¦ “What in the heck do you expect her to do about the goddarn hiccups, lady? Throat-punch the baby?” The mother-in-law spins around with a look of shock, like no one has ever spoken to her that way in her life.
Quick overview: I’m wearing a cowboy hat, grey sweatpants, combat boots, and a T-shirt from The Mountain that depicts a cat and a Tarot spread. No makeup. No jewelry aside from my own wedding ring. On a scale of Scabies-Raddled Hobo to This Polished Woman, I am standing on an overpass in the rain holding a cardboard sign that reads “Please Help, God Bless.”
The mother-in-law, in a tone that suggests she just found me stuck to the hot-rod-red bottom of her left pump: “What did you say?!” Me, constitutionally unable to stop myself from responding to that tone: “Are you this hard to be around all the time, or is it a special day?” MIL: “How dare you?!” Those three words feel like the key turned in the lock of the cage that keeps my inner witch hidden from the world.
Me: “How dare I? How dare you? I’m a complete stranger, and I can see that your daughter-in-law is exhausted. She needs support and rest. She doesn’t need to be berated in public by the Wicked Witch of Wall Street.” MIL, spluttering: “We’re leaving!” Me, bit between my teeth and running free: “You don’t have to leave with her. I’ll drive you home.”
The daughter-in-law dissolving quietly into tears: “YES. PLEASE. YES.” And then I drive a sobbing young mother home in her own minivan. We leave the Wicked Witch of Wall Street screaming furiously on the sidewalk outside the drugstore to call herself a cab. The daughter-in-law tells me that the last month has been really bad.
The baby is going through a period of vast discontent; her husband got a promotion and is overseeing a major IT server migration at his job and has been working all kinds of weird hours (and the baby is a Daddy’s boy, which probably explains the discontent); her sister, who normally helps out, flew to another state to help her own in-laws with a family emergency; her best friend, who also helps out, is down sick along with her own two young kids.
Her sister is due to come home Wednesday, but the daughter-in-law is flat out of supplies and thought she could handle just a quick ride to and from the drugstore with her mother-in-law. Mother-in-law is obnoxiously classist and materialistic as heck, but normally manageable. She’s only gone full-bore witchface since the baby was born and her son got that promotion, because now her son and daughter are always so overwhelmed and “can’t handle their own lives.”
I’m planning to get myself a cab back to the store to get my car, but when I pull into her driveway, there’s another car there. She gasps and says “My husband’s home!” My first thought was that the mother-in-law must have called him at work and now he’s going to chew his wife out for being mean to Mommy. The front door opens, and the husband comes jogging out.
I have to note here that he’s a physical carbon copy of his mother with a Y chromosome. He’s freaking beautiful. He rushes up to the van, opens the passenger door to ask his wife if she’s okay, kisses her, says a hasty “thank you” to me, then goes to the back door to get the baby, who goes from fussing to happy giggly noises, because Daddy.
I stare at the guy for a moment, then turn to the daughter-in-law and say, “My God, you are so freaking lucky. He’s Henry Cavill with Godiva-chocolate eyes.” She smiles (first smile I’d seen on her) and happily says, “I know.” Turns out, he’d gotten a screaming voicemail from his mother and is kind enough to play it for us. When I heard it, I nearly burst out laughing.
“YOUR SORRY WITCH OF A WIFE LEFT ME AT THE STORE AND DROVE OFF WITH A TOTAL STRANGER WHO INSULTED ME FOR SPEAKING MY MIND! SHE’S PROBABLY BEING KIDNAPPED AND MY GRANDSON WILL NEVER BE SEEN AGAIN! SHE’S HURTING MY GRANDSON, HE WON’T STOP CRYING! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!” I translate this as “I am a harpy and your wife abandoned me here for Satan to pick up at his infernal convenience, so you should go home and get her side of the story.”
The pair of them also crack up laughing, which is an improvement over the daughter-in-law starting to cry again. I get a ride back to the drugstore from Henry Cavill’s clone. Fortunately, his mother is gone, and I say “fortunately” because he spends the entire drive snarling “I can’t believe she would do this. I can’t believe it. She knows what’s going on in our lives, and she treats her that way?”
“She thinks she won’t tell me what really happened? She thinks I’ll get mad at her on her say-so? She thinks I’ll get mad at my tired-out wife who’s just trying to hold the house together while I work? No. No, she’s not getting away with that.” I think if she’d still been there, he’d have torn her seventeen new ones and jammed a football cleat up each and every one.
Incidentally, he didn’t just drop me off; he went in to get the stuff his wife hadn’t been able to pick up because she was busy fleeing from her mother-in-law. So, how was YOUR day?
I’m not going to go into details about my condition, but I’m terminally ill. I might have months left or years, depending on how well I respond to the treatment, but the point isâI’m going to die, it might happen soon, and my mother-in-law thinks she has a say in this. I want all of my finances to be in order before I pass, therefore I have written a will.
It includes all of those who are dear to me: my wife and daughter, my brother, and my parents. As strange as it might sound, mother-in-law obviously expected to be included as well. For what reason I don’t know, but she got very displeased when she heard her name isn’t in the will. I have decided to leave the majority of what I own to my daughter.
My wife and the rest of the family totally agree. I’m leaving something to everybody else as well, but most of it is going to my daughter. She’s just two years old now and I likely will not live to even see 35. It breaks my heart that I won’t get to see her grow up, so the least I can do is make sure that lack of money isn’t an obstacle for her to succeed in life.
It’s hard for young adults to start building their lives without financial support and the money I’m leaving her will be enough for her to study, go to college, and partly cover the expenses of buying real estate. It comforts me that when she’s an adult she’ll know her dad did think of her future. Well, my mother-in-law started to make a scene out of this.
She insisted that no one does this, that everything must be split equally between all family members and she’s a family too, so she should be included in the will. It made me mad as heck. Like, who is she to tell me what I can and cannot do with my money? You know, the money I earned and saved over the years? I could give it all to a homeless stranger if I wanted to, she has nothing to do with it at all.
She’s just the mother of my wife, literally no one to me. She’s crazy if she thinks I’m going to leave her something. She said, “It’s pointless to leave so much money to a child! She’ll waste it all in parties and drinks when she’s old enough!” Well, I’m sure my wife and my parents will raise her right and teach her the value of money. My wife is an amazing woman and she’ll definitely put a lot of good qualities into our daughter.
She tried to get my parents on her side, trying to convince them they should all unite and protest to make me change the will. I said that I think the will and what I’ll leave to them is the least of my parents’ worries. They’re trying to accept the fact they’re going to lose their son. Leave them alone, money isn’t what they’re after at all.
My will is with my lawyer and will only be given to my family after my passing. I don’t keep it in my house so fortunately, my mother-in-law can’t get her hands on it. But she threatened us with courts and whatnot, claiming she’ll never let it go until she gets her share. We’re all distancing ourselves from her; everyone is going through a tough time already and we don’t need her negativity here.
No one, literally no one, has any complaints about the will but her. She’s acting as if there were millions on the table, which there’s not, I’m not that rich. I find it very hard to understand how dare she ask for something she never helped me to get. I have earned every cent I have by my own forces and she acts as if she put me into a pit of gold and expects me to throw the coins back at her.
And if she wants money so much, why not get her butt up and work.
I had a rather bad Memorial Day weekend. Long story short, I had a seizure and face-planted my bedroom door. After a fun ride to the hospital on a backboard and neck brace, a whole bunch of tests followed and I was admitted because as it turns out, my auto-immune condition isn’t quite being managed as well as I thought it was before now.
Day three and I feel well enough to walk around and even make a trip to the cafeteria downstairs to get something better than the standard hospital food. Now, I didn’t really have much in the way of clothing. My wife brought my favorite hoodie and clean underthings, but forgot pants of all things, so a really nice nurse scrounged up a pair of the hospital’s blue scrub pants for me.
So, I was happily free of the IV cart for the next few hours and decided to get some chocolate milk and maybe a tasty snack to treat myself and lift my spirits a bit. But it ended up being a rather sad, frustrating affair before I could even make it onto the elevator. I’m pretty slow walking but I’m just content to not be confined to bed or tangled in tubes, so I enjoy the sunlight and make friendly conversation with the day shift nurses as I pass by.
Sometimes it’s the small things that make me happy. But all that happiness goes away as I make it to the waiting area and elevator lobby. A ~60-year-old woman with the sourest expression on her face steps off the elevatorâlike she sucked on a whole barrel of lemons type of sour, lips puckered up tighter than a cat’s butt sour. So I try to give her a wide berth, but Pucker Face isn’t having it.
She marches straight up to me and gets well into my personal space, thenâassuming I’m a nurse because I’m in scrubsâstarts demanding that I take her to her son’s room and give her an immediate run down of his medical ailments. The exchange is as follows between me and the pucker-faced wonder (let’s call her PK): PK: Finally, one of you lazy people is going to take me to my son’s hospital room and explain to me my baby boy’s condition. I’m his mother after all and that wife of his just hasn’t been taking care of him as she should be.
Me: (thinking “The children’s hospital is next door”) â¦.what? PK: Oh, don’t play stupidâyou’re not pretty enough for that. I know my son’s here and I want to see him right this instant. I think he was brought in on Friday. Me: (really confused and feeling bad for the kid) Uh, I don’t work here. PK: What do you mean you don’t work here? You have on scrubs in a hospital, you’re a nurseâNOW TAKE ME TO MY SON!
Me: (starting to get irritated and sassy) Dude, I’m not a nurseâ¦not everyone who wears scrubs is a nurse. I just didn’t feel like going to the cafeteria in a gown with my butt flapping in the wind. PK: (waves hands as if that’s magically going to make me not being a nurse change in any way) You’re just using that as an excuse to not get in trouble for sucking at your job and being a little jerk.
Me: (holds up wristâincluding the lovely bright red allergy band) Yeah, no. I’m not a nurse, I’m a patient and I really don’t have to be explaining this to you. Go find someone else who can help you, but you should probably not be such a witch about it. PK: (inching so close I put my hands up to push her back out of the four remaining inches of personal space) I will act however I want, and you better believe I’m going to get your butt fired. I want to speak to your supervisor. Such unprofessional behavior and talking back to a patient’s familyâyour bedside manner is atrocious.
Me: (pointing to the growing crowd) The head nurse is that way, and for the last time I don’t work hereâ¦I’m a patient just like your son, and being a jerk to people, especially nurses, is a good way to get thrown out on your butt by security. So, you might want to tone it down. By this time a couple of real nurses come over. All of them have clear name badges and credentials on display as well as these little communication devices that are like Star Trek Communicators but look and perform a lot less cool.
The head nurse, who was so sweet just like all the ones I had during my stay, had taken on the scary resting witch face that would make me think twice. Still, it didn’t even scare crazy woman. She barges right up to the nurse and demands to be taken to her son, spouting off his name and date of birth to basically everyone on the floor and then demands that I be fired.
PK: Oh, and fire that witchâshe’s completely incompetent and rude. Head Nurse (HN): (deadpans with a chill game I’m rather envious of) She doesn’t work here and I’m going to have to ask you to refrain from yelling and harassing people. This is a hospital and people are trying to heal and rest. PK: I understand, but this woman isn’t letting me see my son and he needs his mommy right now. She needs to be dealt with for being such a terrible, irresponsible nurse.
Me: But I’m not a nurseâ¦..? HN: Again, she is not employed here. After going back and forth for several minutes, Pucker Face can’t seem to wrap her brain around the fact that I don’t actually work at the hospital. She’s basically a broken record, calling for me to get fired like she’s forgotten why she’s here in the first place. Head Nurse is calm and has explained it as many different ways as she possibly can and is starting to rub her temples with what must be a nasty headache.
Finally after a couple of seconds of quiet, she turns to me. HN: Hey, you’re fired okay?” Me: â¦okay?â¦ HN: (holding an elevator for me) Go on now, get on your way. I get on the elevator and head downstairs, incredibly grateful to be away from that monstrous woman, and go to collect my well-deserved prize and text my wife about the whole thingâshe’ll find it hilarious. But the story doesn’t end there.
As it turns out, when they look up information for her sonâwho was actually two rooms down from mineâhe specifically said his mother is on the list of people who absolutely under no circumstances could be allowed to visit. So, I watched her get dragged kicking, screaming, and biting through the hospital’s main lobby when I was returning from the cafeteria.
The chocolate milk and cookies were twice as tasty after that. Her son turned up that evening to apologize for his mother, since news of the crazy lady spread across the floor like wild fire. He and his family were really cool. They also have a restraining order against this crazy woman. Looks like we’re going to be physical therapy buddies now and we can swap crazy mom stories together.
Let me just start by saying that my mother-in-law had my husband young. She then split from his father and remarried. My husband is now 26 and she was still trying to get pregnant with the new husband up until a few years ago. BEFORE SOMEONE JUDGES, I understand that she feels sensitive about not being able to conceive, howeverâ¦.
My husband and I have been together for six years. Prior to dating, he knew my ex and was aware that I never planned on having children and that this was a reason why my prior relationship ended. My husband also has been very clear about not wanting children. Does my mother-in-law respect this? No. Does she believe me when I say that WE made this decision together not to have children? No.
For years now, I have been disrespected and questioned by my mother-in-law’s family. Literally every time I have to spend time with them, I hear the following questions/statements: “When are you going to change your mind?” “What’s wrong with you?” “What are you going to have when you don’t have your career anymore?” Blah blah blah.
Yes. They didn’t show up until 1:20. My sister-in-law and her family didn’t show up until 1:40, even though we told them we needed to leave at 2 pm as we had another commitment. So, I’m already fuming because well, they suck. Within two minutes of sitting down, my mother-in-law and her husband have the nerve to bother me about kids again. I ignored this commentâ¦at first.
My mother-in-law then said something to me again when my husband was holding our niece. Without hesitation, I blurted, “Well, that’s going to be hard to do since he had a vasectomy four weeks ago.” Not realizing how loud I was, pretty much the whole restaurant turned around and stared at me. My mother-in-law and her husband stared at me as if I had just reached over and punctured my husband with my dinner knife.
My mother-in-law literally started tearing up, making it about her. Lunch was shortly over after this and we haven’t heard from her since. No regrets.
At the beginning of this month, my significant other told his mom that we weren’t coming to Christmas. She was angry and argued, so he hung up. Last week she texted him: “Everyone is coming and dinner is at 6 pm. Please be early!” Him: “We’re not going.” She called him and screamed that he can’t change plans last minute.
All he said is that we never did and hung up again. Cue a flurry of texts that he promptly ignored. But that wasn’t even close to the end of it. Today she texted me: “Bring the deviled eggs, everyone is expecting them. Love you!” Ha, I’ve never made deviled eggs in my life. I told my partner and he texted his mom: “Again, for the third time, we’re not coming. We’ll send presents through the mail.”
MIL: “You’re disappointing everyone, you’ve clearly shown that you don’t care about your family and your niece’s first Christmas.” He didn’t respond so she then texted him later: “If you’re not coming have [me] drop off the deviled eggs.” He didn’t respond again. I’m not driving two hours there and back for your deviled eggs. Kiss my butt, crazy lady.
Basically, my mother-in-law and her sisters like to play this really raunchy song at every wedding they go to. Apparently, they’ve never been told no. Until now. I told my DJ that my mother-in-law and her sisters were not allowed to request songs, and then my husband came in and flat out banned the specific song. About halfway through the dance, though, they run up to the DJ booth and request the song.
Obviously he tells them no, so they come over to me and demand to know why I banned the song. I told them it wasn’t appropriate to play around kids, or my extremely religious grandmother, and they became livid. I ended up telling them I wasn’t going to argue at my wedding, and that if it was really that big of a deal we could fight about it in the morning.
Now, for the past week I’ve been getting texts about how horrible I am for what I did. I ended up telling them today that if they texted me again and the text didn’t include an apology, that they wouldn’t be welcome in our home again. I haven’t heard from any of them since, nor has my husband. Man, this isn’t the first issue I’ve had with her and I can tell it certainly won’t be the last!
My son is 4.5 weeks old. Immediate problems with my mother-in-law started mid-pregnancy. My wife and I had been trying to have kids for a while (two miscarriages last year). Needless to say, this pregnancy had been planned out from the start. Part of the plans were of course the delivery itself. My wife did not want anyone but me and her friend/photographer in there during the delivery.
The rest of the family would be given updates and allowed in after we had spent some bonding time with our son. It’s worth pointing out that the last part is hospital policy regardless, which we didn’t know at the time. We didn’t want people waiting in the lobby because I was not going to be out there dealing with their emotions and needs during the whole ordeal.
My singular concern was to be there with my wife and child. We had been telling friends and family this from an early stage of the pregnancy. Every single person we told had all unanimously said, “Okay, no problem.” Because why should it be a problem? Everybody, that is, except my mother-in-law. She would always say, “No, I’m going to be there, you can’t keep me away.”
We would resist, but as time went on it started becoming more and more heated. Mind you, this woman has a lifelong history of being controlling towards her children, so this isn’t new territory. The week my wife was due, it ramped up a notch. It all turned into actual arguments and all-out hostility. She began calling me a “sperm donor,” claiming this was all my attempt to shut her out, etc.
We started getting screenshots of messages from family members where she had started a complete smear campaign against me and was trying to turn her entire family against me. Even more confusingly, she had tried that with my own mother. So my wife ends up giving birth late at night with a surprise c-section, while our son ends up in the NICU for a couple of hours.
My wife was out of it, and I was trying to bounce between her and our son, all the while my mother-in-law was apparently going berserk because we weren’t dealing with her needs. Next thing we know, she shows up at the hospital in the middle of the night causing a scene. Security rightly stopped her at the entrance and didn’t allow her up.
My son and I had finally been reunited with my wife about 20 minutes prior to this. The hospital, as mentioned, doesn’t even allow calm rational visitors within this time. Let alone lunatics in the middle of the night ranting and raving in the ER lobby. So of course this was, once again, my fault. I set up the hospital regulations. Silly me.
It’s important to note that my wife had tried at every step to mitigate this disaster. Even so much as trying to talk her mother down WHILE SHE WAS IN LABOR, telling her to come around 8:00 in the morning so that she can bring her boyfriend and son. Not “Come back when I’ve finally rested from being in labor all night.” Just “come at a reasonable time with the rest of your family.”
So the attacks continued. We had a local private detective come in and we tried to get a restraining order, but the hospital is in a different county than where we live. They suggested contacting the PD where we live when we leave the hospital. You bet I called them within the hour of being home, but that department said they couldn’t do anything unless she actually broke the law.
But we’ve at least begun building a paper trail. One incident with hospital security, once with first PD, one with our local PD. Since then, we have had further attacks on our character, which my wife has fought back on as much as possible. All of these decisions were hers from the beginning and she has tried to correct my mother-in-law’s version wherever possible, yet the mother-in-law still uses it as an easy attack against me.
She has still not seen my son, and is currently not welcome around him. She will go behind bars if she so much as tries to come around my son at this stage. There have been enough written notices and contacts with law enforcement to give us the paper trail. After witnessing her mistreat her children for years, I will never let her around my child so long as she continues to act this way.
She will certainly never watch my child. There will be no unsupervised visits. I have zero regrets that she has never met her grandson. He has had so much quality time with his extended family. Everybody else has been so happy to meet him, and he is a very happy baby. He is missing nothing.
I bought brand new furniture and it was delivered today. After I put all the decor around the place, I cracked a cold one and sat in one of the nice chairs, put my feet up on the table, and relaxed. Suddenly, my mother-in-law says, “Did your mother teach you to put your feet on the table?” I said, “It’s my furniture and I’m the mom now.”
Today my mother-in-law offered us $500 to rename our daughter that will be born in July. She doesn’t like the name we want to give her and said the $500 would be to pick a mutually agreed-upon name. I told her where to shove it and it’s not her kid.
This morning I got a call from a funeral home letting me know that my mother-in-law’s body had been picked up, and they wanted to discuss the obituary as well as inquire about payment. There was just one problem. My mother-in-law is still very much alive and she certainly wouldn’t have been sent to a funeral home four or five hours away from where she lives if she wasn’t.
I tell them they have the wrong number, even though they used my maiden nameâI have an extremely rare maiden nameâand I previously lived in that town. The young man on the phone was apologetic and wished me a good day. Not even five minutes later, the number calls me again. This time it’s a woman asking me if I was the daughter-in-law of my ex mother-in-law.
I said, “Not in the last 10 years.” Turns out, my witch of an ex-mother-in-law, who honestly was a practicing witch but also just a witch of a woman, had known she was dying. So she decided to get a bizarre revenge. As one final “screw you,” she thought she would try to stick me with her funeral costs. Of course there’s no legal recourse here, even though our state has that weird law where you legally have to take care of your parents if they aren’t able to themselves.
But she’s not my mother and I was never legally married to her son thanks to his shady officiant friend not filing our marriage license. From what I can gather, she pre-planned her funeral and told the funeral home that I was currently her daughter-in-law (again, I’m not) and would be covering all funeral costs. They apparently believed her, probably because she plays the victim so easily, and thought I helped her make the plans.
This is exactly what she did when I lived with her and my ex. I busted my butt working full time while she did nothing but spend all of her money at thrift stores and he worked 15-20 hours a week minimum wage. Now they’re holding a body and have no idea what to do with it as they don’t have contact information for my ex, and nor do I. I suggested they call the nursing home. But yeah, happy Friday to me.
Her “proof” is that I was too fat, so I must be lying about the due date. This is just one of the many things she has done to hurt and embarrass me. We have limited our contact with her as a result, but she always seems to find a way to weasel back in. So, last week I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Both our families were not able to come to the hospital and will likely not be able to visit in person for a while.
My parents told me they planned to decorate the front of my house to welcome the baby home, and my mom said she had ordered a bunch of things off Etsy for the occasion. When I arrived home, I was surprised to see that there were no decorations. I didn’t think much of it and just assumed my family had run out of time. It wasn’t like them to forget, but I assumed there was a good explanation. Then I got a heart-stopping phone call.
My mom called me after I was settled and asked me how I liked the decorations and presents. I asked her what she was talking about and told her that there was nothing outside when I got home. My mom proceeded to text me several pictures of my house fully decorated in pink baby gear. I also noticed several wrapped presents on my porch in the picture.
They were also missing along with a large banner, balloon arrangements, and several other decorations. My mother told me one of the presents contained a little sweater knitted by my grandma that I wore as a baby. I had been looking forward to receiving this and passing it on to my daughter. I was extremely confused as we live in a rural area so porch pirates are not very common.
So, I can’t walk very long distances, can’t climb stairs at all, and am mostly in my wheelchair. However, my mother-in-law doesn’t believe I need my wheelchair. The following is a part of a conversation I had with her. MIL: Can you walk? Me: Yes, depending on how far I have to walk and how I’m feeling that day. MIL: So you can walk. Then what’s up with the wheelchair?
It was my birthday last week, and she decided to throw me a partyâ¦on the deck of her house that’s currently under renovation. We get there, and the front of her house is all torn up. There’s no walkway, there’s cement and rocks everywhere. It was all blocking the front door. Basically, even if you weren’t in a wheelchair you wouldn’t have been able to get into the house through the front door.
According to my mother-in-law, that wasn’t a problem! Since the party was on the deck and you don’t need to go through the house to get to the deck, all you need to do is go to the backyard and climb the stairs on to the deck. Easy right? Not. By the way, she had not told anyone that her house was under renovation, so we were all taken aback.
When my husband and I get to the backyard, my mother-in-law and my husband’s siblings were all on the deck having food and drinks. There was no feasible way for me to get up there unless I was carried. I was ready to leave until my brothers-in-law started clearing the tables and chairs and bringing them down onto the grass. At this point, my mother-in-law was having a fitâ”That’s my deck furniture!” or “It’ll get grass stains!”
In the end, they all effectively moved the stuff down. She was grumbling but put on a nice face for the rest of the party. Later on, I heard her complaining about why I didn’t just climb the stairs since I could walk. She just doesn’t get that a person can walk AND need a wheelchair at the same time. So, that basically sums up what a disaster that day was.
This incident happened exactly one year ago today. My wife and I are in therapy, not so much because of issues we have in our marriage but because both of us have horrible families, and neither of us until meeting our therapist had strong spines about it. We are very low contact with my mother-in-law. She more sucks than is horrible but she also has some substance issues she’s dealing with, namely an addiction to pain medication.
Anyway, let’s go back a year and a few days. My wife is due any second with our first child. So the plan was to have both sets of parents at the hospital after the baby arrived and my wife and I had time to bond. Her parents accepted that, my dad who is an enabler was okay with that, but my mom was not. She demanded she be at the hospital earlier, and we told her no, she had to wait.
Finally, she said OK after she saw we weren’t budging. So the baby was born. It’s a boy, and we hadn’t found out so it was a big surprise. Anyway, both sets of parents come, everything’s good. Until suddenly, it took a dark turn. My wife was getting tired so I walk my parents out; hers had already gone home. My dad went out to get the car while I waited by the front door with my mom.
She then turns to me and says that my dad and her are filing for custody of the baby. Before I can speak, she claims my wife is on drugs like her mom (my wife doesn’t even drink) and that she saw how my wife was around the baby and she fears for his safety. I’m stunned. My dad pulls up and she gets in and leaves. I go back upstairs and my wife sees my face and knows something is up.
I really don’t want to tell her but I’m not going to lie to her, either. She’s as upset as I am, so I text my mom that she’s not to contact us anymore. I then block her number. At this point, my younger sister is blowing my phone up and I know it’s my mom. We go home the next day, and my wife had tearing and therefore needs medication.
She refuses pain medications because of her family history but says she will take Advil. So I go get some things at CVS, she and baby are sleeping (him in his cot) at home. I’m in line getting us dinner when my wife calls me sobbing. She woke up and there’s no baby. I run home and we are both a mess at this time. Then my neighbor comes over and asks what’s going on.
She sees me running like my feet are on fire, so I tell her. She tells me, “Wait, so your parents weren’t supposed to take the baby?” Yep, my mom came and kidnapped my baby. I immediately call the sheriff’s office, since my best friend is a deputy there. As soon as I tell him and his partner what happened, they head to get our baby.
Turns out my dad wasn’t involved in the actual kidnapping, although I’m sure he knew about it. My mom knew at the time where we kept a spare key and let herself in. We went all the way and pressed charges. According to my friend, they had a nursery waiting at their house. Our baby was returned to us. My mom was sentenced, but because of her standing in the community she was only given a slap on the wrist.
However, the negative attention she got after that event spurred her and my dad to move. Thankfully, my sister turned 18 before then and she stayed with us a few months before going a few states away to school. For a long time, both my mom and my dad were radio silent. However, my mom has tried to reach out in the last few months.
Thankfully we’ve learned from this. We now have cameras, a security system, and no spare key outside. Our neighbor, who is now a great friend, has our spare. We are three months along with our second child, and I’m hoping my mom doesn’t find out about it until long after.