My intention to impart a valuable lesson to my mother-in-law (MIL) might have backfired dramatically, which caught me off guard. I believed I had come up with an infallible strategy to deal with the problem permanently. But my MIL, who’s always one step ahead of me, really surprised me by turning the tables on me.
My name is Miranda, and I would have laughed a few years ago if you had told me that my life would be entwined with love, family drama, and financial difficulties.
And yet here I am, right in the heart of something as strange as it is annoying. It has to do with my mother-in-law, Lilian, a person whose existence has been both a gift and a hardship for me.
Lilian’s mother-in-law status isn’t usual. She is John’s stepmother, to start. However, as his biological mother went away when he was a child, she is essentially the only mother he has known.
After his father, Lilian’s true love, passed away a few years ago, she found herself in a comfortable financial position. Lilian also succeeded in making her own wealth in business. She now has a comfortable and, dare I say it, luxurious life as a result.
After we fell in love, John and I decided to start a life together while still in college. He is the love of my life, my pillar of support, and my co-conspirator. However, Lilian—a woman with a strong will and even stronger opinions—came with John.
Though John is the one she sees the most, she also has four other stepchildren from John’s father. Perhaps because we’re the friendliest group or because he’s the youngest.
Lilian would frequently add, “You two are always so good to me,” with a kind grin on her lips. However, since she lives out of town, she comes to see us frequently, and each time she does, she demands to stay with us rather than book a hotel room and eat at the priciest restaurants in the area.
Lilian, with all her money, has this weird habit of “forgetting her wallet,” which means I have to pay for it.
One evening, “I just don’t understand why she does it,” I remarked to John, my voice laced with fury. “She knows we don’t have her kind of money.”
Never one to back down, John would smile and add, “She means well, Miranda. Let’s not make a big deal out of it.”
The visits from Lilian began to resemble a well-rehearsed dance, both predictable and annoying every time the music began. It felt deeper, almost like an exam I was meant to fail, than just her missing her wallet.
She would always choose opulent restaurants that would make my pocketbook tremble with horror. And each time, with her eyes widening in practiced surprise as the bill arrived, Lilian would pat her handbag.
She would add, with a trace of guilt in her voice that didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Oh dear, I must have left my wallet at your place.”
I dismissed it the first few times, putting it down to simple forgetfulness. But as it started to happen frequently, I couldn’t help but feel cheated. Paying for ostentatious dinners wasn’t helping our budget, but it wasn’t just the financial burden.
It was an assumption, an expectation, that since I was well-paid, I should be responsible for her forgetfulness.
One evening after Lilian had departed, our bank account a little lighter, I raged, “I don’t get it, John.” “Why does she do this? If she’s testing me, what’s the point? And why me? Why not you?”
John let out a sigh and made the familiar action of running a hand through his hair to express his failure. “Miranda, I don’t know. Maybe she’s old-fashioned and thinks since you’re the woman, you should take care of the household, even the dining out.”
“But that’s just it, isn’t it?” I persisted, growing more irritated. “It’s not just ‘dining out.’ It’s like a game to her, and it’s costing us. Not just money, but it’s putting a strain on us, on me.”
The emotional cost was starting to show. I always looked forward to Lilian’s visits, dreading the inevitable dinner dance. The money was no longer the main concern. It was the sensation of being taken advantage of and treated like a piece of paper.
“I feel like she’s looking down on me, John. It’s like she’s challenging me and I’m failing every time,” I confided one night, my frustration weighing heavily on my chest.
John put his arms around me as a show of support for our mutual predicament. “We’ll figure this out, Miranda. We’re a team, remember?”
Even if his words were consoling, I knew something had to go. I could no longer allow this pattern to have an impact on our marriage or way of life. How could I break it up without severing the family’s bond, was the question.
I understood that something needed to shift. I had no idea that things would turn out the way they did.
Lilian’s most recent visit was accompanied by the customary pomp and an outing invitation. This time, at a restaurant that was so fancy that my old bills seemed like small change.
Lilian had made it plain before we left that this was her treat, a sort of celebration. She declared with a flourish, “I’ve made reservations at Le Elegance,” her eyes glistening with anticipation. “It’s a thank you, for always being so gracious.”
But as the day drew nearer, a persistent uncertainty began to creep into my thoughts. Experiences from the past mumbled cautionary notes. The idea that history was about to repeat itself persisted in my mind. I suddenly realised that this cycle had to stop at that point. However, how?
A surprise ally appeared in the form of a TV sitcom rerun in which a character encountered a similar situation. Their resolution? to make sure the forgetful party’s wallet was there in order to proactively resolve the issue. It was uncomplicated and a little devious, but it inspired a thought.
The night of our meal, Lilian’s pattern came to pass as predicted. She and John went to the car as we were about to depart, leaving me to “double-check” the house.
That’s when I noticed it: Lilian’s wallet, perched atop her suitcase and seemingly mocking me. With my heart racing, I tucked it into my handbag. That was my last attempt to break the pattern.
Dinner was a haze of beautiful food and kind banter. It brought me to the point I had been both looking forward to and dreading. When the bill came, Lilian went through her usual procedure. Oh my, she said, patting her purse, “I’ve forgotten my wallet again.”
I steadied my voice and addressed her gaze. I put her wallet on the table and reached into my handbag, saying, “Actually, you didn’t.” “This wallet?”
Tension was evident as the table fell silent. Lilian’s shocked eyes expanded before she suddenly started laughing. She said, “You got me,” with a newfound sense of respect in her voice.
John glanced from me to Lilian, his expression filled with perplexity. “What’s going on?”
“Miranda here has ended a very long game. I’ll explain later,” Lilian said, her eyes gleaming as she continued to laugh.
I was overcome with a mixture of relief and anxiety when we paid the bill separately for the first time. I’d made my position clear, but how would this affect our future relationship going forward? Had I won one battle and now sparked another?
The automobile was unusually quiet on the way home. The evening carried a great deal of weight, and I prepared myself for what lay ahead. Lilian finally broke the stillness. Her tone had become softer, with an unidentifiable hint of something in it.
She met my gaze in the rearview mirror and said, “You know, Miranda, I never expected you to call my bluff.” “I guess I underestimated you.”
Reassembling the events of the evening, John questioned, “What was this all about, Lilian? Why the games?”
Lilian let out a long, drawn-out sigh that sounded like it contained years’ worth of unsaid feelings. “It wasn’t just a game, John. It was a test. A test of love, if you will.”
I scowled, trying to make sense of it all. “A test of love? By forgetting your wallet?”
She nodded, her visage beginning to show signs of sheepishness. “Yes. You see, after your father passed, I was left wondering about my place in the family. I wanted to know if you all loved me for me, or for what I could provide,” she replied.
Lilian went on, “So, I started testing my stepchildren, seeing who would be patient and loving enough to bear with me, to support me, even in something as silly as this.”
John knitted his brow in perplexity. “And us paying for dinners was supposed to prove our love?”
“Yes, in my mind,” Lilian said. “And you and Miranda passed with flying colours. Seven times, in fact. More than any of your siblings. You guys managed to endure the longest! I will take this into consideration when I write my will.”
I became silent in shock. Was everything that happened to me—the hardship, the money, the emotional toll—just a test?
“And what about the inheritance you mentioned at the restaurant?” I questioned, feeling both fear and hope ignited by her remarks.
Lilian laughed, her laughter sincere. “Oh, that was just to see your reaction. But don’t worry, you both have already secured a special place in my heart, and when the time comes, in my will too.”
Talk flowed freely for the remainder of the drive, as though a barrier had been shattered. Lilian’s anxieties were exposed by her unusual exam. It demonstrated her need for love from her family.
Lilian said to me as we said our goodbyes that evening, “Next time, I’ll bring my wallet. But more importantly, I’ll bring an open heart, ready to give and receive love without any tests.” Her words stuck with me.
Lilian’s revelation had a significant effect. It made us realise how important it is to communicate, how understanding is important, and how different love can be. Our family’s dynamic had changed, but maybe in a good way.
I thought a lot about our unusual supper with Lilian in the days that followed. John and I found ourselves talking about the night’s events as well as its implications for the future.
One of these calm evenings, with mugs of tea warming our hands, was the occasion on which I raised a persistent worry.
I couldn’t help but worry about the subject that had been bothering me, “John, do you think my actions could have jeopardised your inheritance? I mean, what if Lilian had taken offence?”
John looked puzzled for a moment. “Miranda, knowing Lilian, what you did might have actually impressed her. She’s always valued honesty and courage. And besides, our relationship with Lilian, or any family for that matter, shouldn’t be about money.”
Even though I knew he was correct, it was still nice to hear him say it, so I nodded. “I guess I don’t want to be the reason for any family rifts,” I said.
John grabbed my hand as he reached over. “You won’t be. We’re in this together, remember? And Lilian made her intentions clear. This was about love and understanding, not inheritance.”
I started off feeling at ease, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. “You know, this whole ordeal with your mum… it opened my eyes,” I said.
John found my hand and nodded. “It showed us that communication is key, isn’t it? We assumed so much about Lilian’s intentions without talking to her about how we felt.”
“Exactly,” I replied. “And understanding. We learned to see things from her perspective, to understand her fears and insecurities. It wasn’t about the money or the dinners. It was about belonging and love.”
I felt optimistic about the future as we sat there, enshrouded in one other’s comfort. A future in which John, Lilian, and I could all work together to openly and honestly discuss and resolve the problems of our relationship. A future in which love existed in the ordinary deeds of compassion and understanding rather than being put to the test.
John stated, “I think we’re on the right path,” with a hopeful tone. “A path that’s going to make all the difference for us and for Lilian.”
And the notion of that made me smile as the sun sank below the horizon. With all of its peculiarities and difficulties, our small family was more united than before. We discovered that a strong, unbreakable link existed beneath the surface of miscommunications and frustrations.
A link that would only get stronger with dialogue and comprehension. It was a consoling idea, a lighthouse pointing the way to a lovelier, more cohesive future.
It was an unanticipated turn of events that deepened our bond and taught us all the importance of open communication and the complex layers of familial love.
In the end, a bright future was made possible by Lilian’s pledge and our combined will. A future in which our family dynamic was based on love rather than material gifts. It served as a lesson in patience, understanding, and the intricate yet lovely aspect of family life.
If you could have been Miranda, what actions would you have taken differently? Post your ideas on Facebook.
While Miranda’s mother-in-law was putting her to the test by losing her pocketbook, Julia and her in-laws had a different situation. Her issues began when she received an inheritance from her late mother. To read her tale, click this link.
Since I received my inheritance, my in-laws have been “forgetting” to bring their wallets to restaurants.
Julia’s mother leaves her cherished daughter with a small inheritance upon her death. Her in-laws have completely different plans for the money than Julia and her husband, David.
My mother has always supported me throughout my entire life. Her support has been my pillar of strength through everything, even accepting my decision to leave law school due to overwhelming pressure.
My mother wasn’t wealthy, but she left me everything she owned, including the savings she had set aside for me, when she passed away.
I made the prudent decision to not waste it. I suggested to my spouse David that we save some of it for our ideal home. I also made the decision to use a portion of it to further my education because my mother and I had always dreamed of me becoming a lawyer.
Having David’s backing was the nicest part of it all. He didn’t think I would spend my entire inheritance. Rather, he was a key player in all of this, devoting nearly his whole income to our common goals.
The storyline twist is about to happen.
David and I have been renting a flat from David’s parents while we save money for our own property. They also saw things quite differently; they were somehow of the opinion that I had suddenly become a millionaire, even though they never made reference to the money.
Still, they figured out a clever way to exploit me.
Our family enjoys trying new restaurants and dining at various establishments because we love to eat out.
David used to quip, “Until we can travel, we’ll just be restaurant hopping.”
Guess who invariably ends up footing the bill? Every restaurant outing since the inheritance arrived has become a game of “wallet roulette.”
Since my in-laws would deliberately forget their wallets at home, this is from yours truly.
I chose to take the opposite role since I was sick of always being the dinner sponsor.
As usual, we went out to supper on Friday. By coincidence, my in-laws were the first to get into the car, and I noticed their wallets lying open on the table next the door.
While I wait for David to come downstairs so we can get out, I put on my shoes.
I got up and said, “I think your parents forgot their wallets.”
He questioned, “Don’t they always?” “Here, put them into your bag.”
After arriving at the restaurant, we dined on the Chinese food I had been craving for the entire week. David most likely consumed his share of spring rolls.
Then, pretending to be innocent, I said that I had left my bank card at home when the bill arrived. With their signature smiles put on hold due to forgetfulness, the in-laws turned to face David.
However, David stepped in just as they believed they had won another round.
“Be at ease,” he reassured. “I put your wallets in Julia’s bag as we left the house. You can cover dinner this time.”
There was a noticeable change in the space. My in-laws’ realisation of the circumstances nearly caused the gears to grind to a stop.
Please understand that this was much more than us trying to take advantage of them. You see, my in-laws were aware that we were accumulating money for our ideal house, which they would also be relocating into as David felt obligated to them. They knew this, though, and they never made an effort to assist us in saving money.
After a while the silence reigned, and David gave me a quick look.
My father-in-law finally extended his arm and requested his wallet.
“Many thanks, my son.” “I’ve got this one.”
We were aware that his generous gratuity to the server was really an attempt to maintain his dignity.
David said, “Thanks, Dad.” “You know, we’ve got to share the responsibility of family dinner. Surely, you cannot expect to cash in on Julia’s inheritance every time we go out. She has plans for that money, and you must respect it.”
Beneath the table, I took David’s hand and felt noticed and valued.
Cracking into a fortune cookie, my mother-in-law chirped, “I’ve got it next time.”
Over the next few weeks, every time we went to a restaurant, the in-laws would always take out their wallets first. But as David pointed out, we all had to take turns and share the load.
After all this time, the in-laws still haven’t gone back to their former habits. They now respect David and me and understand the importance of financial responsibility.
Although David and I still have to pay for all the other bills at home, it hasn’t been a whole makeover, but it is a positive start. Since my mother-in-law is aware that I study after work, she chooses to prepare without my asking.
How about you? Have your in-laws attempted to exploit you in any way?
Here’s another anecdote for you: after inheriting a sizable sum of money, a woman’s in-laws and her husband wanted her to cover the cost of everyone’s New Year’s Eve meal. She paid discreetly for her dinner and walked out of the restaurant, frustrated. Click here to read the entire story.
Though it has been fictionalised for artistic purposes, this work draws inspiration from actual individuals and events. For reasons of privacy protection and story improvement, names, characters, and details have been changed. Any likeness to real people, alive or dead, or real events is entirely accidental and not the author’s intention.
The publisher and author disclaim all liability for any misinterpretation and make no claims on the veracity of the events or character portrayals. The thoughts represented in this story are those of the characters and do not necessarily represent the viewpoints of the author or publisher. The story is offered “as is.”
My intention to impart a valuable lesson to my mother-in-law (MIL) might have backfired dramatically, which caught me off guard. I believed I had come up with an infallible strategy to deal with the problem permanently. But my MIL, who’s always one step ahead of me, really surprised me by turning the tables on me.
My name is Miranda, and I would have laughed a few years ago if you had told me that my life would be entwined with love, family drama, and financial difficulties.
And yet here I am, right in the heart of something as strange as it is annoying. It has to do with my mother-in-law, Lilian, a person whose existence has been both a gift and a hardship for me.
Lilian’s mother-in-law status isn’t usual. She is John’s stepmother, to start. However, as his biological mother went away when he was a child, she is essentially the only mother he has known.
After his father, Lilian’s true love, passed away a few years ago, she found herself in a comfortable financial position. Lilian also succeeded in making her own wealth in business. She now has a comfortable and, dare I say it, luxurious life as a result.
After we fell in love, John and I decided to start a life together while still in college. He is the love of my life, my pillar of support, and my co-conspirator. However, Lilian—a woman with a strong will and even stronger opinions—came with John.
Though John is the one she sees the most, she also has four other stepchildren from John’s father. Perhaps because we’re the friendliest group or because he’s the youngest.
Lilian would frequently add, “You two are always so good to me,” with a kind grin on her lips. However, since she lives out of town, she comes to see us frequently, and each time she does, she demands to stay with us rather than book a hotel room and eat at the priciest restaurants in the area.
Lilian, with all her money, has this weird habit of “forgetting her wallet,” which means I have to pay for it.
One evening, “I just don’t understand why she does it,” I remarked to John, my voice laced with fury. “She knows we don’t have her kind of money.”
Never one to back down, John would smile and add, “She means well, Miranda. Let’s not make a big deal out of it.”
The visits from Lilian began to resemble a well-rehearsed dance, both predictable and annoying every time the music began. It felt deeper, almost like an exam I was meant to fail, than just her missing her wallet.
She would always choose opulent restaurants that would make my pocketbook tremble with horror. And each time, with her eyes widening in practiced surprise as the bill arrived, Lilian would pat her handbag.
She would add, with a trace of guilt in her voice that didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Oh dear, I must have left my wallet at your place.”
I dismissed it the first few times, putting it down to simple forgetfulness. But as it started to happen frequently, I couldn’t help but feel cheated. Paying for ostentatious dinners wasn’t helping our budget, but it wasn’t just the financial burden.
It was an assumption, an expectation, that since I was well-paid, I should be responsible for her forgetfulness.
One evening after Lilian had departed, our bank account a little lighter, I raged, “I don’t get it, John.” “Why does she do this? If she’s testing me, what’s the point? And why me? Why not you?”
John let out a sigh and made the familiar action of running a hand through his hair to express his failure. “Miranda, I don’t know. Maybe she’s old-fashioned and thinks since you’re the woman, you should take care of the household, even the dining out.”
“But that’s just it, isn’t it?” I persisted, growing more irritated. “It’s not just ‘dining out.’ It’s like a game to her, and it’s costing us. Not just money, but it’s putting a strain on us, on me.”
The emotional cost was starting to show. I always looked forward to Lilian’s visits, dreading the inevitable dinner dance. The money was no longer the main concern. It was the sensation of being taken advantage of and treated like a piece of paper.
“I feel like she’s looking down on me, John. It’s like she’s challenging me and I’m failing every time,” I confided one night, my frustration weighing heavily on my chest.
John put his arms around me as a show of support for our mutual predicament. “We’ll figure this out, Miranda. We’re a team, remember?”
Even if his words were consoling, I knew something had to go. I could no longer allow this pattern to have an impact on our marriage or way of life. How could I break it up without severing the family’s bond, was the question.
I understood that something needed to shift. I had no idea that things would turn out the way they did.
Lilian’s most recent visit was accompanied by the customary pomp and an outing invitation. This time, at a restaurant that was so fancy that my old bills seemed like small change.
Lilian had made it plain before we left that this was her treat, a sort of celebration. She declared with a flourish, “I’ve made reservations at Le Elegance,” her eyes glistening with anticipation. “It’s a thank you, for always being so gracious.”
But as the day drew nearer, a persistent uncertainty began to creep into my thoughts. Experiences from the past mumbled cautionary notes. The idea that history was about to repeat itself persisted in my mind. I suddenly realised that this loop had to stop at that point. However, how?
A surprise ally appeared in the form of a TV sitcom rerun in which a character encountered a similar situation. Their resolution? to make sure the forgetful party’s wallet was there in order to proactively resolve the issue. It was uncomplicated and a little devious, but it inspired a thought.
The night of our meal, Lilian’s pattern came to pass as predicted. She and John went to the car as we were about to depart, leaving me to “double-check” the house.
That’s when I noticed it: Lilian’s wallet, perched atop her suitcase and seemingly mocking me. With my heart racing, I tucked it into my handbag. That was my last attempt to break the pattern.
Dinner was a haze of beautiful food and kind banter. It brought me to the point I had been both looking forward to and dreading. When the bill came, Lilian went through her usual procedure. Oh my, she said, patting her purse, “I’ve forgotten my wallet again.”
I steadied my voice and addressed her gaze. I put her wallet on the table and reached into my handbag, saying, “Actually, you didn’t.” “This wallet?”
Tension was evident as the table fell silent. Lilian’s shocked eyes expanded before she suddenly started laughing. She said, “You got me,” with a newfound sense of respect in her voice.
John glanced from me to Lilian, his expression filled with perplexity. “What’s going on?”
“Miranda here has ended a very long game. I’ll explain later,” Lilian said, her eyes gleaming as she continued to laugh.
I was overcome with a mixture of relief and anxiety when we paid the bill separately for the first time. I’d made my position clear, but how would this affect our future relationship going forward? Had I won one battle and now sparked another?
The automobile was unusually quiet on the way home. The evening carried a great deal of weight, and I prepared myself for what lay ahead. Lilian finally broke the stillness. Her tone had become softer, with an unidentifiable hint of something in it.
She met my gaze in the rearview mirror and said, “You know, Miranda, I never expected you to call my bluff.” “I guess I underestimated you.”
Reassembling the events of the evening, John questioned, “What was this all about, Lilian? Why the games?”
Lilian let out a long, drawn-out sigh that sounded like it contained years’ worth of unsaid feelings. “It wasn’t just a game, John. It was a test. A test of love, if you will.”
I scowled, trying to make sense of it all. “A test of love? By forgetting your wallet?”
She nodded, her visage beginning to show signs of sheepishness. “Yes. You see, after your father passed, I was left wondering about my place in the family. I wanted to know if you all loved me for me, or for what I could provide,” she replied.
Lilian went on, “So, I started testing my stepchildren, seeing who would be patient and loving enough to bear with me, to support me, even in something as silly as this.”
John knitted his brow in perplexity. “And us paying for dinners was supposed to prove our love?”
“Yes, in my mind,” Lilian said. “And you and Miranda passed with flying colours. Seven times, in fact. More than any of your siblings. You guys managed to endure the longest! I will take this into consideration when I write my will.”
I became silent in shock. Was everything that happened to me—the hardship, the money, the emotional toll—just a test?
“And what about the inheritance you mentioned at the restaurant?” I questioned, feeling both fear and hope ignited by her remarks.
Lilian laughed, her laughter sincere. “Oh, that was just to see your reaction. But don’t worry, you both have already secured a special place in my heart, and when the time comes, in my will too.”
Talk flowed freely for the remainder of the drive, as though a barrier had been shattered. Lilian’s anxieties were exposed by her unusual exam. It demonstrated her need for love from her family.
Lilian said to me as we said our goodbyes that evening, “Next time, I’ll bring my wallet. But more importantly, I’ll bring an open heart, ready to give and receive love without any tests.” Her words stuck with me.
Lilian’s revelation had a significant effect. It made us realise how important it is to communicate, how understanding is important, and how different love can be. Our family’s dynamic had changed, but maybe in a good way.
I thought a lot about our unusual supper with Lilian in the days that followed. John and I found ourselves talking about the night’s events as well as its implications for the future.
One of these calm evenings, with mugs of tea warming our hands, was the occasion on which I raised a persistent worry.
I couldn’t help but worry about the subject that had been bothering me, “John, do you think my actions could have jeopardised your inheritance? I mean, what if Lilian had taken offence?”
John looked puzzled for a moment. “Miranda, knowing Lilian, what you did might have actually impressed her. She’s always valued honesty and courage. And besides, our relationship with Lilian, or any family for that matter, shouldn’t be about money.”
Even though I knew he was correct, it was still nice to hear him say it, so I nodded. “I guess I don’t want to be the reason for any family rifts,” I said.
John grabbed my hand as he reached over. “You won’t be. We’re in this together, remember? And Lilian made her intentions clear. This was about love and understanding, not inheritance.”
I started off feeling at ease, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. “You know, this whole ordeal with your mum… it opened my eyes,” I said.
John found my hand and nodded. “It showed us that communication is key, isn’t it? We assumed so much about Lilian’s intentions without talking to her about how we felt.”
“Exactly,” I replied. “And understanding. We learned to see things from her perspective, to understand her fears and insecurities. It wasn’t about the money or the dinners. It was about belonging and love.”
I felt optimistic about the future as we sat there, enshrouded in one other’s comfort. A future in which John, Lilian, and I could all work together to openly and honestly discuss and resolve the problems of our relationship. A future in which love existed in the ordinary deeds of compassion and understanding rather than being put to the test.
John stated, “I think we’re on the right path,” with a hopeful tone. “A path that’s going to make all the difference for us and for Lilian.”
And the notion of that made me smile as the sun sank below the horizon. With all of its peculiarities and difficulties, our small family was more united than before. We discovered that a strong, unbreakable link existed beneath the surface of miscommunications and frustrations.
A link that would only get stronger with dialogue and comprehension. It was a consoling idea, a lighthouse pointing the way to a lovelier, more cohesive future.
It was an unanticipated turn of events that deepened our bond and taught us all the importance of open communication and the complex layers of familial love.
In the end, a bright future was made possible by Lilian’s pledge and our combined will. A future in which our family dynamic was based on love rather than material gifts. It served as a lesson in patience, understanding, and the intricate yet lovely aspect of family life.
If you could have been Miranda, what actions would you have taken differently? Post your ideas on Facebook.
While Miranda’s mother-in-law was putting her to the test by losing her pocketbook, Julia and her in-laws had a different situation. Her issues began when she received an inheritance from her late mother. To read her tale, click this link.
Since I received my inheritance, my in-laws have been “forgetting” to bring their wallets to restaurants.
Julia’s mother leaves her cherished daughter with a small inheritance upon her death. Her in-laws have completely different plans for the money than Julia and her husband, David.
My mother has always supported me throughout my entire life. Her support has been my pillar of strength through everything, even accepting my decision to leave law school due to overwhelming pressure.
My mother wasn’t wealthy, but she left me everything she owned, including the savings she had set aside for me, when she passed away.
I made the prudent decision to not waste it. I suggested to my spouse David that we save some of it for our ideal home. I also made the decision to use a portion of it to further my education because my mother and I had always dreamed of me becoming a lawyer.
Having David’s backing was the nicest part of it all. He didn’t think I would spend my entire inheritance. Rather, he was a key player in all of this, devoting nearly his whole income to our common goals.
The storyline twist is about to happen.
David and I have been renting a flat from David’s parents while we save money for our own property. They also saw things quite differently; they were somehow of the opinion that I had suddenly become a millionaire, even though they never made reference to the money.
Still, they figured out a clever way to exploit me.
Our family enjoys trying new restaurants and dining at various establishments because we love to eat out.
David used to quip, “Until we can travel, we’ll just be restaurant hopping.”
Guess who invariably ends up footing the bill? Every restaurant outing since the inheritance arrived has become a game of “wallet roulette.”
Since my in-laws would deliberately forget their wallets at home, this is from yours truly.
I chose to take the opposite role since I was sick of always being the dinner sponsor.
As usual, we went out to supper on Friday. By coincidence, my in-laws were the first to get into the car, and I noticed their wallets lying open on the table next the door.
While I wait for David to come downstairs so we can get out, I put on my shoes.
I got up and said, “I think your parents forgot their wallets.”
He questioned, “Don’t they always?” “Here, put them into your bag.”
After arriving at the restaurant, we dined on the Chinese food I had been craving for the entire week. David most likely consumed his share of spring rolls.
Then, pretending to be innocent, I said that I had left my bank card at home when the bill arrived. With their signature smiles put on hold due to forgetfulness, the in-laws turned to face David.
However, David stepped in just as they believed they had won another round.
“Be at ease,” he reassured. “I put your wallets in Julia’s bag as we left the house. You can cover dinner this time.”
There was a noticeable change in the space. My in-laws’ realisation of the circumstances nearly caused the gears to grind to a stop.
Please understand that this was much more than us trying to take advantage of them. You see, my in-laws were aware that we were accumulating money for our ideal house, which they would also be relocating into as David felt obligated to them. They knew this, though, and they never made an effort to assist us in saving money.
After a while the silence reigned, and David gave me a quick look.
My father-in-law finally extended his arm and requested his wallet.
“Many thanks, my son.” “I’ve got this one.”
We were aware that his generous gratuity to the server was really an attempt to maintain his dignity.
David said, “Thanks, Dad.” “You know, we’ve got to share the responsibility of family dinner. Surely, you cannot expect to cash in on Julia’s inheritance every time we go out. She has plans for that money, and you must respect it.”
Beneath the table, I took David’s hand and felt noticed and valued.
Cracking into a fortune cookie, my mother-in-law chirped, “I’ve got it next time.”
Over the next few weeks, every time we went to a restaurant, the in-laws would always take out their wallets first. But as David pointed out, we all had to take turns and share the load.
After all this time, the in-laws still haven’t gone back to their former habits. They now respect David and me and understand the importance of financial responsibility.
Although David and I still have to pay for all the other bills at home, it hasn’t been a whole makeover, but it is a positive start. Since my mother-in-law is aware that I study after work, she chooses to prepare without my asking.
How about you? Have your in-laws attempted to exploit you in any way?
Here’s another anecdote for you: after inheriting a sizable sum of money, a woman’s in-laws and her husband wanted her to cover the cost of everyone’s New Year’s Eve meal. She paid discreetly for her dinner and walked out of the restaurant, frustrated. Click here to read the entire story.
Though it has been fictionalised for artistic purposes, this work draws inspiration from actual individuals and events. For reasons of privacy protection and story improvement, names, characters, and details have been changed. Any likeness to real people, alive or dead, or real events is entirely accidental and not the author’s intention.
The publisher and author disclaim all liability for any misinterpretation and make no claims on the veracity of the events or character portrayals. The thoughts represented in this story are those of the characters and do not necessarily represent the viewpoints of the author or publisher. The story is offered “as is.”