We had to replace the locks just to keep my motherinlaw from treating our apartment like her own home.
My husband and I have been married for a year now, and ever since his mother has struggled to accept that he chose a path that doesnt fit her script. Shed always imagined him marrying a billionaires daughter, living a life of luxury, and pulling her into that golden world. Where those ambitions come from is a mystery. In reality we earn ordinary wages: at first we tightened our belts and took out a loan. Now we live in a studio and rent a new flat. Our next goal is a carjust like most young couples. No extravagances, but were not starving either.
My motherinlaw refuses to face reality and stubbornly clings to her fantasies, determined to wreck our marriage. Her tactics are downright inventive: she smears lipstick on my husbands shirts, leaves his clothes scented with feminine perfume, and I keep finding condoms in my bag. Naturally it leads to arguments, mistrust, and shouting matches. Each time we eventually uncovered the ruse, but the damage lingered.
A few months ago my husband had to move to another city to launch a new brancha career opportunity we both embraced. He left, I stayed, and everything seemed fine.
Then, a few days later, I noticed odd things: items moved, cupboards rummaged through. At first I assumed my husband had stopped by to pick up some things, since the city isnt far. I called him; he sounded surprised and swore he hadnt returned. An hour later he called back, his voice low, thinking it might be his mother. Before his trip he had given her our keys just in case and forgot to retrieve them.
The next day I took a day off and had the locks changed right away. I warned my husband that if he handed the keys to anyone again, hed sleep on the hallway floor. That evening everything was back in its place, confirming she was the intruder. While searching the closets I discovered a tiny hidden camera perched on a high shelf.
I called my husband immediately. He was silent at first, then burst out laughingpure madness. I inspected the flat just in case, but found nothing else. No scandal. He asked me to wait for his return so he could deal with it himself.
And guess what? The following day my motherinlaw called, having realized her keys no longer worked and wanting to get in. She asked if I was home so she could stop by for tea. I told her I wasnt, but we could have tea sometime. Half an hour later my husband told me she had complained to him, saying I was wandering off somewhere and the house was empty.
We almost laughed about it, betting on what excuse shed use next to get inside. She didnt disappoint: she called several times a dayabout a misdelivered package, forgotten glasses, or just to bring croissants.
When my husband finally returned, she announced she was visiting. We waited for her. She arrived with a bag of croissants, pretended to go wash her hands, then slipped straight into the bedroom. Of course we followed. We caught her rummaging through the wardrobe. She stammered when she saw us. My husband pulled the hidden camera from his pocket and showed it to her.
Thats when things exploded. She started shouting that I was cheating, that I was lying to her son, that he was naive. She even staged tears and a heartattack scene. In the end she stormed out, slamming the door like an offended martyr.
Honestly, I felt like applauding. It was a performance without rehearsal. But it was just a battle. I know the war isnt over, yet this time we didnt give in. We made it clear: our family isnt a stage for absurd drama.
