My MIL dragged me lingerie shopping three months after I gave birth, determined to make me more appealing to her son. I had a little surprise for her at checkout. She screamed, threatened to tell my husband, and had no idea who was joining us for lunch.
Three months after I gave birth, my mother-in-law Diane lost her mind.
One morning, after barely an hour of sleep, I woke to find her opening our bedroom curtains while Ryan snored beside me.
“What the hell?!”
“Shh! You’ll wake Ryan!”
“You’re in our bedroom!”
“What the hell?!”
“It’s urgent.”
Emma.
I was out of bed before my brain caught up. I ran down the hall and into the nursery.
She was sleeping, one fist by her cheek, perfectly fine.
I walked back to the bedroom very slowly.
On my dresser sat a jar of mud mask and a hair straightener.
“It’s urgent.”
“What is that?”
“Emergency treatment.”
“For what?!”
“Look at your hair, Sarah.”
“I thought something happened to my baby!”
“Emma’s fine. Now sit down.”
“Emergency treatment.”
“It’s seven in the morning.”
“My son deserves a pretty wife.”
“Your son deserves eight hours of sleep. So do I.”
“Oh, please. I had a baby too.”
“Congratulations.”
“And I lost twelve pounds in two weeks!”
“My son deserves a pretty wife.”
I was about to snap back when my husband interrupted me.
Ryan sat up. “Mom? What are you doing?”
“Helping your wife.”
“At seven a.m.?”
“Somebody has to!”
He walked her to the door.
“Helping your wife.”
I lay back down and looked at the ceiling. Nothing says “rest” like a hair straightener on your dresser.
“I’m sorry,” Ryan said when he came back.
“She thinks I’m not good enough for you.”
“She thinks nobody is.”
“She likes Jessica.”
“Emergency treatment.”
“Jessica was ten years ago. And a ballerina.”
“Diane never lets me forget it.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
He did. She heard none of it.
***
Four days later, I was making a sandwich when I heard the front door.
No knock. No call. Just Diane, in my kitchen, opening my fridge.
“I’ll talk to her.”
“Mayonnaise? Seriously?”
“It’s lunch, Diane.”
“It’s calories, Sarah.”
“That’s generally how food works.”
“At your age, I never ate this stuff.”
“At my age, you had a baby and apparently lived on air.”
“It’s calories, Sarah.”
She looked me over like a used car.
“Come here.”
“Why?”
“Just a second.”
She pulled a MEASURING TAPE out of her purse!
“Diane, no.”
She pulled a MEASURING TAPE out of her purse!
“Stop being dramatic.”
She wrapped it around my waist while I held my plate. I tried to step away.
She was faster than a woman her age had any right to be.
“Oh, dear.”
“What?”
“Two centimeters!”
“Stop being dramatic.”
“What about them?”
“You gained two centimeters!”
Her words hurt. Of course my body had changed after childbirth. But I didn’t show it.
“Ryan’s first girlfriend had the waist of a ballerina.”
Well, of course…
“She WAS a ballerina.”
Her words hurt.
“Exactly. Such discipline!”
“Is that why they broke up? Too much discipline?”
She huffed. She dropped the tape on the counter, and I took it before she could.
“Don’t ever measure me again.”
“I’m only trying to help!”
“Then hold the baby while I eat.”
“I’m only trying to help!”
“I have things to do!”
I wished she’d offer some actual help. I was exhausted and overwhelmed with a newborn.
Instead, she just kept criticizing me.
But then she went too far.
***
Two days later, Diane brought baby clothes.
While I changed Emma, she slipped into our bedroom.
Instead, she just kept criticizing me.
She stood at my dresser. She was holding my nursing bra by one strap, like evidence.
“Diane! What are you doing?!”
“Sarah, this is tragic.”
“Put it down!”
“Does Ryan actually see these?”
“Ryan sees me feeding his daughter.”
“Sarah, this is tragic.”
She opened the next drawer.
“Oh, good Lord.”
“Close that drawer!”
“Cotton? Really?”
“Yes. Cotton. The scandal of the century.”
“You’ve stopped making an effort.”
“Cotton? Really?”
“I made a person.”
“I had a baby too, you know.”
“You’ve mentioned it.”
“And Harold never saw me looking like THIS.”
She held up my nursing bra with two fingers, grimacing.
“Lucky Harold.”
“I made a person.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing. Close the drawer.”
“Honestly, Sarah, I’m amazed Ryan still finds you attractive.”
“Wow. Thanks, Diane.”
“Men have eyes, dear. And yours isn’t blind.”
“Ryan hasn’t complained.”
“Men have eyes, dear.”
“Of course not! He’s too sweet to hurt your feelings.”
“Then why are you doing it for him?”
“Because someone has to tell you the truth!”
“About my underwear?”
“About letting yourself go! I raised Ryan to have standards.”
“And apparently no boundaries.”
“About my underwear?”
I marched Diane out of my bedroom and onto the porch.
That night, Ryan called her. I heard her shouting through the phone.
“She’s exaggerating!”
“She’s not stopping,” I said when he hung up.
If only there were forces in the world that could silence her… wait a minute.
The next morning, Diane called.
“She’s not stopping.”
“I’m taking you shopping. Emma needs clothes.”
“Only the baby store. Ryan’s meeting us for lunch.”
“Of course!”
We bought three outfits. Then Diane stopped outside a lingerie store.
“We need to go in!”
“No, we don’t.”
Then Diane stopped outside a lingerie store.
“Five minutes!”
She marched inside. I followed, pushing Emma’s stroller.
Diane was already filling a basket with lace.
“Men love red. Try this.”
“It’s three sizes too small.”
“You should spoil my son more often.”
“It’s three sizes too small.”
“He’s thirty-three. He can spoil himself.”
A saleswoman walked over. Her name tag said Melissa.
“Can I help you ladies?”
“Yes!” Diane got there first. “My daughter-in-law just had a baby.”
“Congratulations!”
“Three months ago. And look at her.”
“Something to work toward!”
I looked at Melissa.
“Apparently I’m the before picture.”
“Are you looking for something comfortable?”
“Absolutely not,” Diane said. “She has enough comfortable things.”
Diane pulled out a set that was mostly strings. She held it up against me.
“Now THIS would get Ryan’s attention.”
“She has enough comfortable things.”
“Ryan already knows I live in his house.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Unfortunately.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Honestly, Sarah. Keep dressing like a laundry basket, and don’t be surprised when Ryan stops looking.”
Enough. If she’s so modern and open-minded, she’ll love my gift, too.
“You know what I mean.”
“You know what, Diane? You’re right.”
“Finally!”
“I think we need something special.”
“That’s my girl!”
“Wait by the register. I’ll pick it myself.”
“Make it exciting!”
“That’s my girl!”
“Oh, I will.”
She wandered off, pleased with herself. I turned to Melissa.
“I’m looking for a gift.”
“Of course. What kind?”
“Something unusual. Maybe from your back section?”
She raised one eyebrow.
“Maybe from your back section?”
“Who’s it for?”
“My mother-in-law.”
Melissa put her hand over her mouth for exactly one second.
“I think we can help.”
I asked for gift wrap, and Melissa tied the ribbon like a pro.
Then I leaned in and told her what to say. She nodded. She was grinning like a kid on the last day of school.
She raised one eyebrow.
I walked back to the register. Diane was waiting, basket in hand.
“Well? Did you find something?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Something Ryan will love?”
“I think he’ll be delighted.”
“See? You just needed a little push.”
“Did you find something?”
“You have no idea.”
I knew she’d be furious. But I had no idea just how furious.
Melissa appeared with the box.
“Ma’am, we’re running a promotion today.”
“Oh?”
“You qualify for a complimentary gift.”
“Ma’am, we’re running a promotion today.”
“Really? How lovely.”
“This one’s for you.”
Diane took it with both hands.
“Finally, some proper customer service!”
She lifted the lid.
Inside, on tissue paper, lay a curious pink accessory with a small ball attached.
“How lovely.”
Diane stared at it for three full seconds. I counted. Best three seconds of my entire maternity leave.
“What… is… THIS?”
“Your gift.”
“A GAG?!”
“Pink. I thought it was your color.”
“HOW DARE YOU?!”
“A GAG?!”
Two customers turned around.
“ARE YOU TELLING ME TO SHUT UP?!”
“No. But you’re catching on.”
Her face went red. A deep, impressive, wedding-dress red.
“THIS IS DISGUSTING!”
“It’s also quiet. I liked that part.”
“ARE YOU TELLING ME TO SHUT UP?!”
“YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?!”
Melissa turned toward the wall. Her shoulders were shaking.
“I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO INSULTED!”
She had no idea that, after years of humiliating me, another surprise was waiting for her.
“Really? You’ve been giving lessons for years.”
“I’M YOUR MOTHER-IN-LAW!”
“YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?!”
“Well, that clears up the family tree..”
“YOU WILL APOLOGIZE!”
“For what?”
“THIS! I’m telling Ryan! He’ll be furious!”
My phone rang. And now for her second gift.
“Hey, where are you?”
And now for her second gift.
“Leaving the lingerie store.”
“The what?”
“Long story. We’re coming to lunch.”
“Everything okay?”
“Ask me after dessert.”
Diane stormed off, clutching her gift. She was sure Ryan would take her side. But another surprise awaited her.
“Ask me after dessert.”
***
Ryan was already at the table in the little restaurant near the food court. He waved at me and Emma.
Then he saw his mother.
“Ryan! Your wife humiliated me!”
“Hi, Mom.”
“THIS IS SERIOUS!”
“So is lunch. I’m starving.”
“THIS IS SERIOUS!”
She slammed the box on the table.
“LOOK!”
He lifted the lid. He looked inside for a moment.
“Mom… is that what I think it is?”
“YES!”
“Interesting choice.”
“LOOK!”
“YOUR WIFE GAVE IT TO ME!”
“I assumed it wasn’t from Dad.”
I took Emma out of the stroller and told him the short version.
“She dragged me lingerie shopping and insulted me the whole time.”
“Mom, why?”
“Because she’s let herself go!”
“YOUR WIFE GAVE IT TO ME!”
Ryan sighed.
“Mom, I want my house key back.”
“You’re choosing HER over me?!”
“She’s my wife.”
Diane angrily slapped the key on the table. But she kept criticizing me.
Ryan and I exchanged looks. Nothing had worked. She still didn’t get it. Time to bring in the big guns.
Time to bring in the big guns.
Ryan took out his phone.
“Grandma? We’re here. Come on in.”
Diane stopped mid-sentence.
“Grandma?!”
The restaurant door opened.
An old woman walked in, small and straight-backed. She carried a handbag like a weapon.
“Grandma?!”
I’d met Margaret twice at family events, and both times she’d been perfectly nice to me. Eighty-two years old. Ryan’s father’s mother.
Diane changed in front of my eyes.
Her back went straight. Her hand flew to her hair. A bright, nervous smile appeared on her face.
“Margaret! What a surprise!”
Margaret looked her up and down.
Diane changed in front of my eyes.
“Diane. Is that what you’re wearing?”
“I… yes.”
“That color does nothing for you.”
Diane’s eyes dropped to the table.
“I thought it was nice.”
“Well, you thought wrong.”
Ryan’s father’s mother.
I looked at Ryan. He was biting the inside of his cheek.
Margaret sat down and opened her napkin.
“Have you gained weight, Diane?”
“A little.”
“I can tell.”
“And those earrings! Are they new?”
“Have you gained weight, Diane?”
“Harold bought them for our anniversary.”
“How unfortunate. Did he keep the receipt?”
“Margaret, I like them.”
“Of course you do. You always did confuse expensive with flattering.”
“They weren’t expensive.”
“That explains a great deal.”
He was biting the inside of his cheek.
Diane touched one earring.
“I could take them off.”
“Don’t bother. The damage is done.”
“Perhaps we could talk about Emma?”
“Certainly. At least the baby has lovely cheeks.”
“She does.”
“At least the baby has lovely cheeks.”
“Unlike some people, she’s supposed to have them.”
“Margaret!”
“What? I’m complimenting the child.”
Diane reached for her water.
“Careful, dear. That’s not a milkshake, after all.”
Diane said nothing.
“Careful, dear.”
I had known this woman for three years. I had never once seen her silent.
It was like watching a fire alarm turn into a houseplant.
“And your hair? What happened?”
“Nothing, Margaret.”
“You used to take such good care of yourself.”
Diane patted her hair. The waiter brought the menus.
It was like watching a fire alarm turn into a houseplant.
“You’re ordering pasta?” Margaret asked.
“I was thinking about it.”
“At your age? Brave woman.”
Diane closed the menu.
Then it clicked.
I watched my mother-in-law shrink in her chair. She looked exactly the way I had felt every day for the past month.
“At your age? Brave woman.”
“You know,” Margaret said, “when I was your age…”
“Margaret, Diane can order whatever she wants.”
She blinked at me.
“I was only trying to help.”
“Funny. I’ve heard that one before.”
“I was only trying to help.”
Diane looked up.
Margaret sniffed. “Women today are far too sensitive.”
“Grandma,” Ryan said. “Let’s talk about something else.”
She went quiet in a very offended way.
A few minutes later, Ryan walked her to the register to pick out dessert.
That left me alone with Diane and a pink box.
“Women today are far too sensitive.”
“She’s always been like that,” Diane said, almost to herself.
“Margaret?”
“Since the day I married Harold.”
I waited.
“She commented on everything. My weight. My clothes. My hair.”
“For how long?”
“She’s always been like that.”
“Years. When Ryan was born, she showed up at my house and said I had to get my figure back right away.”
She stared at her hands.
“She brought a measuring tape.”
I turned slowly.
“A measuring tape.”
“Every week.”
“For how long?”
I reached into my purse. I pulled out the tape from my kitchen counter and set it on the table between us.
“Looks like you two share a hobby.”
She looked at it for a long time.
“And you hated it?”
“Of course I hated it!”
“Then why did you do it to me?”
“Looks like you two share a hobby.”
She didn’t answer. The quiet stretched out. Somewhere behind us, a blender screamed.
“I thought…” She swallowed. “I thought that’s just what mothers-in-law did.”
I shook my head.
“Maybe it’s time we stopped.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
“I thought that’s just what mothers-in-law did.”
She picked up the tape and put it in her purse. She didn’t look at me.
“I’m sorry, Sarah.”
“For what?”
“The comments. The tape. Your drawer.”
“And the lingerie store?”
“Especially the lingerie store.”
“I’m sorry, Sarah.”
“I’ll give you a chance. But if it happens again, I’m done.”
“Fair.”
Margaret came back, followed by Ryan with a slice of cake.
She looked Diane over once more.
“And next time, dear, wear something more flattering.”
Diane took a deep breath.
“I’ll give you a chance.”
“Margaret, I’m sixty-two. I’m allowed to look sixty-two.”
Margaret blinked. Twice.
“Well! There’s no need to be rude.”
“You’re right. There isn’t.”
I smiled into my water glass.
Margaret finished her cake in silence.
She carried a handbag like a weapon.
She said goodbye like a queen leaving a disappointing parade, and she left.
Ryan put a hand on his mother’s shoulder.
“You okay, Mom?”
“Actually, I think I am.”
I noticed the pink box on the table.
“Diane, you forgot your gift.”
I noticed the pink box on the table.
She looked at it. Then at the door Margaret had just walked out of.
And she started laughing.
“You know what? I think I found someone who needs it more.”
Ryan grabbed his head with both hands.
“Mom. Please don’t.”
She picked up the box.
“Mom. Please don’t.”
“Relax, sweetheart. I’ll wrap it nicely.”
I laughed so hard Emma woke up.
I don’t know if Diane ever gave Margaret that gag.
But one thing’s certain: the next time my mother-in-law opened her mouth to comment on my waist, she thought twice.
“Relax, sweetheart. I’ll wrap it nicely.”
And honestly? That was the best gift I could’ve asked for.
