I always knew my mother-in-law, Linda, didn’t like me, but I never imagined she’d go this far. When she offered to take my laundry home while I was recovering from an illness, I thought she was just being surprisingly helpful. I had no idea she had other plans for my clothes.
From the moment I married David, Linda made it clear that I wasn’t the daughter-in-law she had hoped for. She criticized everything I did, from the way I cooked to the way I folded laundry.
“You’re not feeding them enough protein,” she would say, wrinkling her nose as she peeked into my fridge.
Or, “David never liked his shirts folded this way. I taught him better than this.”
And of course, my personal favorite: “You should dress the boys in something more presentable. You never know who’s watching.”
It was exhausting.
Instead of arguing, I decided the best strategy was to keep my distance. I stopped engaging, kept our conversations to a minimum, and made sure I wasn’t around enough for her to start one of her exhausting lectures. The best part? David agreed that it was for the best.
“You don’t have to force a relationship with her,” he reassured me one evening while we cleaned up after dinner. “I know she can be a lot. I’ll handle her.”
And he did. He called her regularly, visited her, and sent her gifts. I never interfered with their bond, and I even encouraged him to stay connected with her. Just because she didn’t like me didn’t mean he had to cut ties.
But Linda wasn’t one to let things go. She noticed my absence.
“Why don’t you come over with David anymore?” she would ask.
“You used to call me more often,” she would text out of the blue.
It was almost as if she missed having someone to criticize.
Then, two weeks before Valentine’s Day, I got sick. And things got much worse.
At first, it was just a mild fever. Then it turned into full-blown exhaustion, body aches, and a stubborn cough. And just as I was starting to feel better, Nathan and Lucas caught it too. It wasn’t serious, just one of those nasty bugs that drain all your energy.
By the time we recovered, my house was a disaster. Dishes piled up in the sink, toys were scattered everywhere, and the laundry? Mountains of it.
Once I had enough strength, I decided to do something nice. I invited my sister and my parents over for lunch. The boys hadn’t seen them in a while, and I figured some family time would be good for all of us.
I didn’t tell Linda about it. Why would I?
But somehow, she found out.
At exactly 1:30 p.m., the doorbell rang.
When I opened it, there stood Linda, smiling.
“I heard you weren’t feeling well, dear,” she said sweetly. “I thought I’d stop by to help.”
Help? Linda?
She had never “helped” in all the years I had known her. All she ever did was criticize.
I glanced at David, who was standing near the couch. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He clearly hadn’t invited her either.
“Oh… that’s nice of you,” I said cautiously.
Linda kept smiling. “How are the boys? My poor babies! You must’ve had such a rough time.”
She ruffled Nathan’s hair, and Lucas reached out for her. She cooed over them for a moment before turning back to me.
“And you, sweetheart? You look so pale. You shouldn’t be up and about already.”
Was she… being nice? What was going on?
“I’m fine,” I said slowly. “Just tired.”
“Well, of course you are!”
Then her gaze landed on the pile of laundry in the corner. I had shoved it all into baskets, but there was no hiding it.
She tsked. “Oh, Evelyn. You shouldn’t have to deal with all this in your condition. Why don’t I take some of it home with me? I’ll wash it and bring it back fresh and folded.”
I stiffened. Since when does she do favors?
“That’s really not necessary,” I said quickly. “I can get to it this weekend.”
But Linda waved me off. “Oh, nonsense! It’s no trouble at all. I’d be happy to help.”
Linda? Happy to help? Something didn’t feel right.
Before I could refuse, David spoke up. “That’d be great, Mom. Thanks.”
I turned to him in disbelief. Seriously?
Linda grabbed a basket and started hauling it toward the door before I could say another word. David even helped her load it into the trunk of her car.
I felt uneasy, but what could I say? She was doing something nice, right?
Two days passed. I had almost forgotten about the laundry—until David got a message from Linda.
I was in the kitchen trying to convince Lucas to eat something other than crackers when David walked in, looking baffled.
“You’re not gonna believe this,” he said, holding up his phone.
I took it from him and read the text:
David, I can’t believe what your wife did. I have been sick all night—fever, chills, and the worst headache! And you know why? Because Evelyn didn’t bother to tell me she was contagious when she gave me her filthy clothes!
I tried on a few things before washing them, just to see if I wanted to keep them since she had mentioned getting rid of some. And now I’M SICK! I can’t believe how irresponsible she is! She should have warned me!
I stared at the screen, my mouth hanging open.
“She… she tried on my clothes?” I asked.
“Yeah,” David said. “Looks like it.”
I nearly gagged. “My dirty clothes. That I wore while I was sick?”
David nodded.
“Oh my God.” I dropped the phone on the counter like it was contaminated. “That’s disgusting!”
And then my phone buzzed again.
Medical expenses are not cheap, you know. Since your little stunt got me sick, I think it’s only fair you cover my treatment. I’ll be mailing you the bill. Don’t think you can just ignore this!
David sighed. “She’s lost it.”
He called Linda, put her on speaker, and said firmly, “Mom, let me get this straight. You took dirty clothes, tried them on, got sick, and now you want Evelyn to pay for your treatment?”
“She should have warned me!” Linda shot back.
David shook his head. “No, Mom. You were careless. You offered to wash the clothes, not wear them. That was YOUR decision.”
There was silence.
Then, Linda mumbled, “Some of those clothes were actually nice.”
“Excuse me?!” I blurted out.
“Mom,” David sighed, “return Evelyn’s clothes. You can’t keep anything.”
Linda huffed, and then—beep. She hung up.
A few days later, a package arrived. Inside were some of my shirts, pants, and a sweater. All of them were a faded shade of pink. Linda had ruined them.
David peered over my shoulder. “You’re not actually going to wear those again, right?”
I shuddered. “After where they’ve been? Burn pile.”
David laughed. “Lesson learned. If your mom offers to do laundry, say yes. If mine offers? Run.”
I burst out laughing. “Deal.”
