My husbands familys habits make me feel illI just cant bring myself to visit them.
Every time Im invited to my in-laws’, I feel queasy before I even get there. Some of the things they do, especially around meals, genuinely turn my stomach. Ive tried to push myself, but eating at that table is beyond me. I can make polite conversation, but I simply cant sit down at mealtimes. My husband doesnt quite understand what the fuss is about, and my mother-in-law sees me as a spoilt little thinga princess who never does anything right.
Thankfully, my husband and I live on our own. Sadly, not far enough from his parents to rely on just phone calls; inevitably, I have to pay them visits. Each time, I search desperately for excuses not to go. On the surface, his family is perfectly ordinaryhis parents are both professionals, both well-educated, and their home is tidy and comfortable. But the moment everyone sits down to eat, Im gripped with dread. I admit, Im quite particularso particular that I cant even use my husbands spoon if hes licked it first. Its just something I cant make myself do, no matter how I try.
To be fair, my husbands little quirks Ive learned to accept; as we grow closer, those lines blur. But with his parents, I cant get past itand for them, these things are done without a second thought. For example, my mother-in-law mixes up a salad in a big communal bowl, tastes it for seasoning, licks the spoon, and then puts it back in the salad. I mean, its justno.
Or theres the drinking. They enjoy their gin or sherry, while I usually bring a bottle of wine for myself. My mother-in-law feels no qualms about picking up my glass and having a sip to give it a try. Why would you do that? At the very least, its unhygienicshes not family, shes almost a stranger. I try to switch out my glass quietly, but Im not always fast enough. Then theres my father-in-law, who seems to get a kick out of winding me up with his teasingsometimes even crossing the line. My husband does step in, but it never really solves anything.
There are more odd habits. My mother-in-law will reheat soup, and if its not finished, shell pour it from everyones bowls straight back into the saucepan and stick it in the fridgeunless, lucky me, theres mayonnaise or cream in it. She does the same with all leftoverseven salad scraped back off guests plates after parties. Because of this, I refuse to eat any dish in that house that hasnt been freshly made right before mechances are, its the remains of someone elses dinner.
And the most bizarre of them all: before frying anything, my mother-in-law spits on the pan to check if its hot enough. There are a hundred better ways to test a panbut she insists nothing could survive that heat. Meanwhile, the image is burned into my mind and I cant let it go.
But the absolute last straw was the dog. After a big meal, a dish of potatoes and stew sat unfinished. They placed it on the floor and let the dog lick it cleanthen put the same dish straight into the sink with the other washing up, as if that was perfectly normal.
Thats when I lost it. I blurted out that I couldnt eat from a plate after the dog, it was too much. They just looked at me as if Id lost my mind, insisting the plates are washed thoroughly anyway. But thats not the point! The dog shouldnt be eating from our crockery in the first place. I told my mother-in-law that, by her logic, I should just scrub out the dogs bowl and use it myself. She was deeply offended. But honestly, what did I say that was so wrong? If a wash is enough for our plates, why not eat from the pets bowl?
My husband thinks I overreacted, but I know Im right. I truly dont want to go round to theirs anymore. Or maybe if I brought my own food and my own plates, but then Christmas dinner would be ruined and my mother-in-law would be mortally offended. I have no idea what to do. I dont want to push my husband into an awkward cornerwith me refusing to go, hell get all the grief, but I just cant stand it.
Honestly, I dream of moving to a completely different cityManchester, Bristol, anywhere but hereso Id have a decent excuse. A quick chat on the phone is fine, but a visit? Absolutely not.
