The Girl Doesn’t Know Basic Things… What Should I Do? My Mother-in-Law Passed Away a Few Years Ago, and After the Funeral, I Swore I’d Stick to the Rule: Speak Fondly of the Dead or Not at All. I Also Made Another Promise—No Matter Who Married My Son, I Would Never Become the Kind of Mother-in-Law She Was. But Good Intentions Are One Thing, Life Is Another. My Only Son, Alex, Turned 25 and Brought His Girlfriend Home at the Start of Summer. True to My Promise Not to Interfere, I Welcomed the Girl Warmly but Kept My Guard Up. I Told Myself I Wouldn’t Look Down on Her, Wouldn’t Nitpick, and Wouldn’t Give Unsolicited Advice—All Things My Late Mother-in-Law Did until We Ended Up Loathing Each Other. I Don’t Want to Push Away Either Alex or His Girlfriend. Truthfully, I Enjoy Making Them Both Coffee, I Know Their Breakfast Preferences, and I Like Spoiling Them on Weekends—During the Week, I’m Too Busy for Such Little Extras. So, I Try to Give Them Space—Heading Off with My Husband to the Lake, Visiting a Friend, Popping Round to Mum’s to Make Chutney and Pickles—Leaving Them Alone in the House. Still, Something Surprising Happened That I Felt Compelled to Share. One Evening, My Son’s Girlfriend Showed Off a New Top She’d Bought on the Way Home from Work. It Wasn’t Expensive, Made Cheaper Still by a Missing Button. She Tried It On—It Looked Lovely and Suited Her. The Next Day, Friday, I Suggested She Wear Her New Top on Our Outing… But She Didn’t—She Couldn’t Sew the Button Back On. “Oh, Really?” I Blurted Out, Surprised That a 22-Year-Old Didn’t Have a Needle, Thread, or Knack for Basic Simple Fixes. How, I Wondered, Will She Manage Tomorrow? How Will She Look After a Home and Family or Make Important Choices? Family Dynamics and Dilemmas. Now, I’m Not Sure What to Do—Should I Just Sew the Button On, Show Her How, or Leave It—Her Choice: Wear the Top or Let It Languish in the Wardrobe? One Thing’s Certain—I Don’t Want to Be a Difficult Mother-in-Law. I’ve Seen That Role and I Don’t Care for It.

Author Mitsuko NagasakiReading 3 minViews 2

My mother-in-law passed away a few years back, and after we laid her to rest, I made myself a promise: one must always respect the dead, whether you have fond or bitter memories.

I also vowedthat no matter who my son brought home as his bride one day, I would never become like she was.

But intentions and life itself are often two different things.

My only son, William, turned twenty-five this year and brought home a girlfriend at the start of summer.

True to my promise not to meddle in his affairs, I welcomed the young woman with warmth, though I kept my expectations at arms length.

I promised myself I wouldnt look down on her, wouldnt pick apart her faults, and wouldnt give her endless lecturesmy late mother-in-law did all that and it only ever led to resentment between us.

I dont want to drive William away, nor his girlfriend. If Im honest, I quite enjoy making them both a nice cup of tea in the morning, knowing whether William takes sugar or which kind of toast she fancies. On weekends I treat them to a full English or a special breakfast, though during the week Im much too busy for such luxuries.

Whenever I can, I try to make myself scarceout with my husband at the local lake, popping round to a friends for a natter, or visiting my mum to make chutney and picklesleaving the young couple to their own devices at home.

But something happened recently that was quite amusing at first, yet it left me rather thoughtfulenough so that I felt compelled to share it. One evening, Williams girlfriend showed me a blouse shed picked up on her way back from work.

It was nothing expensive, and the price was even lower since a button had come off.

She tried it on; it suited her beautifully. The next day, Friday, I proposed she wear her new blouse out to a visit together. She didnt, thoughbecause she couldnt sew the button back on.

Oh, really! I blurted out, genuinely surpriseda girl of twenty-two without a needle, thread, or even a single button.

I couldnt help but wonderhow will things be when shes older? How will she manage a home and family, or make the important decisions life throws her way?

Now, Im at a loss. Do I simply sew on the button myself, show her how its done, or just leave it for herif she wants to wear the blouse, shell sort it, and if not, itll sit in her wardrobe buttonless?

One thing I do know for certainI never want to become a meddlesome mother-in-law. I saw firsthand what damage that can do, and I want no part in it.

Perhaps the lesson here is that every new generation faces their own challenges, and letting them learn in their own time is quite possibly the greatest kindness we can offer. After all, patience, understanding, and a little bit of trust can go much further than any lecture or criticism.

The One-Woman Man On the Day of His Wife’s Funeral, Fyodor Didn’t Shed a Tear—”You See, I Told You He Never Loved Zina,” Tosia Whispered to Her Neighbor. “Hush Now, What Difference Does It Make? The Children Are Orphans Now, with a Father Like That.”—”You’ll See, He’ll Marry Katie Soon Enough,” Tosia Assured Lelya. “Why Katie? She Wants Nothing to Do with Him. Glafira Was Always His True Love, Or Have You Forgotten How They Used to Sneak Around the Barns? Katie Has a Family and Moved On from Him Long Ago.” Zinaida Was Buried. The Children Clung to Each Other. Misha and Pauline Had Just Turned Eight. Though Zina Married Fyodor for Love, No One, Not Even She, Knew If He Truly Loved Her. Rumor Had It She Married Him Because She Fell Pregnant. Their First Child, Klavdy, Was Born Premature and Didn’t Survive; For Years Afterwards, There Were No More Children Until God Granted Twins—Pauline, Who Took After Fyodor, and Misha, Gentle Like His Mother. Fyodor Was Stern, Called “Lone Wolf” By Villagers for His Silence and Lack of Affection. When Zina Died, She Entrusted Misha With Protecting His Twin Sister. “You’re the Man of the House Now, Promise Me You’ll Care for Her,” She Said Before Passing. Fyodor Sat Wordless at His Late Wife’s Side. Life Slowly Settled—Pauline Tried to Manage the Household, But Needed Aunt Natalia’s Guidance. Villagers Whispered: Maybe Fyodor Would Marry Again, Perhaps to Glafira, His Old Flame—though Such Gossip Was Met with Chiding from the Parish Council Chairman, Maxim Leonard. Glafira Had Loved Fyodor Once, But Married Mitya Instead; Still, Old Sparks Began Rumored to Fly. Yet Fyodor Stayed True to Zina’s Memory. Even When Glafira Approached Him With Homemade Pies, He Refused, Remaining Loyal to His Wife, Even After Death. Years Passed, the Twins Grew Up. Aunt Natalia, Still Helping Them, Maintained That Her Brother Had Only Loved One Woman. When Pauline Confided She Loved Grisha Voronin “for Ever,” Natalia Cautioned Her That Sometimes Love Lasts a Lifetime—and Sometimes, If Betrayed, There’s No Loving Again. On Fridays, Pauline Secretly Followed Her Father to the Cemetery, Where He’d Whisper to Zina’s Grave All He Couldn’t Say in Life—For Fyodor, the Lone Wolf, Had Told Her Everything with His Heart.

How My Son’s Mother-in-Law Stole Him Away from Us Ever since our son got married, he refuses to visit us—he’s always at his mother-in-law’s house. She always needs urgent help. I can’t even imagine how she managed before her daughter married our son. Our son has been married for over two years. After the wedding, the newlyweds moved into the flat we bought for him when he started university. He’s always had our support and understanding. Even before the wedding, he lived on his own since his flat was close to his work. I won’t say I didn’t like my daughter-in-law—she just never seemed mature enough for married life, despite being only two years younger than our son. She often acted like a child and was quite moody at times. Our son is such a kind soul, and I always wondered how he’d manage life with someone so childish. After meeting her and her mother, I realised what kind of people they are. Despite being my age, my son’s mother-in-law acts like a child herself. Maybe you’ve met people who behave like children even when they’re older? They’re very immature and helpless. When her daughter got married, she was already on her sixth divorce. We never had much to say to each other—she was in her own world, though she didn’t try to invade ours. Our communication rarely went beyond the polite congratulations at the wedding. The warning signs started even before the wedding—the daughter-in-law would constantly drag our son over to her mum’s: a leaking tap, a socket to fix, a kitchen shelf that had fallen down. The first time, I let it go—there wasn’t a man in the house, so of course, an extra pair of hands would help. But the issues at her house never seemed to end. Our son started ignoring us, always saying he and his wife were off to her mother’s. Soon after, they began spending every holiday at his mother-in-law’s, leaving only me, my father, and my mother-in-law alone here. It was bad enough when our son stopped coming to all family celebrations, but it hurt even more when he started ignoring our requests for help. When we bought a new fridge and asked our son for help moving it, he agreed at first, but later he called to say he couldn’t because he and his wife were going to her mum’s again—this time about a leaking washing machine. When my husband rang him, we overheard my daughter-in-law saying, “Couldn’t your parents just hire movers?” Our son did turn up, but he was in a vile mood. “Dad, couldn’t you have just booked a removals team? Now I have to lug this thing myself!” That’s when I lost my patience. Why couldn’t his mother-in-law just call a specialist herself? Is she living in a parallel universe where those don’t exist? My son said the poor woman needed help because everyone tries to cheat her nowadays—they’ll take her money and not fix a thing. At that point, my husband snapped and said, “Maybe your mother-in-law doesn’t know much about appliances, but she’s certainly a skilled shepherd—she’s managed to lead one sheep perfectly.” Our son stormed out, furious with his dad. I didn’t interfere—as much as I agreed with my husband that our new in-laws had made themselves very comfortable on our son’s back, he could have put it more gently, and now our son refuses to see him and is upset with me too. After that row, our son hasn’t spoken to his dad for more than two weeks. His father won’t be the first to make amends. I feel torn—caught between a rock and a hard place. Of course, my husband is right, but he could have put it more kindly. Now my son is offended, and I risk losing him altogether over something so petty. Neither will give way—they both say the other should apologise first. Meanwhile, his mother-in-law seems to be having the time of her life! — **How My Son’s Mother-in-Law Took Him Away from Our Family: Ever Since He Got Married, He’s Always at Her House—Now There’s Always an Emergency Needing His Help, and He Hardly Sees Us Anymore**