Some people bring dessert to family holidays—my mother-in-law brought chaos. After what she pulled at Thanksgiving, I decided Christmas would be unforgettable… for both of us.
My name is Sarah.
I’m 35, married to Ben, and we have a five-year-old daughter named Chloe, who is the light of our lives. Ben and I have been together for six years. And I would love to say that I’ve always had a great relationship with my mother-in-law (MIL), Kathy, but that would be a lie so big I’d have to wash my mouth out with soap.
From day one, Kathy has never really liked me.
She doesn’t scream or fight or cause big blowups — that would at least be honest. No, she’s more of the slow-drip, passive-aggressive type. The kind who acts sweet in front of others but always leaves behind just enough of a mess to ruin your mood.
Every holiday with her is like walking through a garden where the flowers look pretty, but every petal is dipped in vinegar.
Thanksgiving has always been my holiday.
Even before Ben and I met, I would host dinner at my tiny apartment, squeezing people around mismatched chairs and serving way too much food. I describe it as my Super Bowl, my moment to shine.
When my husband and I finally moved in together, Kathy and I made a casual deal to “split” the calendar. I’d host Thanksgiving, she would host Christmas.
It felt fair at the time, but looking back, I should’ve written up a legal contract with all sorts of clauses.
Every Thanksgiving since then, my MIL has found new and creative ways to sabotage me. One year, she offered to “help” with preparations and then snuck around the kitchen adding salt and pepper to every single dish!
Little Chloe was the one who alerted me to the sabotage, saying, “I saw Grandma playing with the food.” That year, the stuffing was so salty you could’ve dried fish on it! The potatoes were basically inedible.
Another year, she managed to “accidentally” burn a pot of beetroots so badly the smoke detector screamed for almost an hour!
I’d left the kitchen to use the toilet, leaving the pot cooking low, but a few minutes later, the beets were charred!
The stove had been turned up higher, and I knew the only person who’d do that — Kathy. And one time, I had just finished putting up string lights in the dining room when she offered to “help.” Instead, she snipped right through the cord while “trimming loose ends.”
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
Tap READ MORE to discover the rest 🔎👇
