Our reader Nadine sent us an emotional letter. The fact is that her in-laws invited the whole family over for dinner, leaving her children out. To make matters worse, her husband knew this and approved of this behavior.
This is Nadine’s letter.
We decided to find out what readers think about this situation. All of them found the behavior of the husband and in-laws offensive.
- I have a very short answer that I use on occasion, and that is. When people show you who they are, believe them. Whatever is said now and whatever apologies made, you know who they all are. © Linda Fawcett / Facebook
- If my kids weren’t welcome at whatever function, I wouldn’t go either. © Sandy Freed / Facebook
- I would have left straight away and if my husband didn’t follow, I would have finished my marriage, when it comes to my kids no one wins over them. © Liz Russell Flaherty / Facebook
- I’d ask my hit if he cared about me and the kids. And then I’d leave the restaurant with or without him. © Faye Birkbeck / Facebook
- This happened to us for a wedding. Other kids were there. We drove 3 hours to get there, so we were stuck. That was 40 years ago. I never forgot. © Regina Mason / Facebook
- My children come first, they are not baggage’s … it does not matter if you’re blood or not, kindness should be organic. © M Otto Rittah Rxs / Facebook
- I would seriously consider whether you stay with your husband, as he clearly hasn’t accepted your children. To say that they shouldn’t be at a family gathering because they’re not blood relatives, means he agrees with your in-laws. I can only imagine how your kids feel with their ‘so called’ dad, disowning them in this manner. © James Wood / Facebook
Conflict with in-laws is not uncommon. Here is the story of a young woman who decided to teach her insolent mother-in-law a lesson.
My Neighbor Kept Hanging out Her Panties Right in Front of My Son’s Window, So I Taught Her a Real Lesson
The underwear of my neighbor turned into the star of a suburban farce, stealing the show directly outside my son’s 8-year-old window. Jake’s innocent question about whether her thongs were slingshots made me realize that the “panty parade” needed to end and that it was time to teach her some prudence when doing the laundry.
Oh, suburbia: a place where everything seems perfect, the air filled with the scent of freshly cut grass, and life goes on without incident until someone changes everything. At that point, Lisa, our new neighbor, showed up. Everything had been rather quiet until wash day, when I saw something for the first time that had caught me off guard: a rainbow of her panties flapping outside Jake’s window like flags at a dubious parade.I nearly choked on my coffee one afternoon while folding Jake’s superhero underwear and happened to look out the window. And there they were, lacy and blazing pink and very much on show. Ever the inquisitive child, my son glanced over my shoulder and posed the dreaded query, “Mom, why is Mrs. Lisa wearing her underpants outside? And why are there strings on some of them? Are they for her hamster companion?I tried to explain between choked laughter and horrified astonishment. However, Jake’s imagination was running wild as he pondered whether Mrs. Lisa had aerodynamically engineered underpants and was indeed a superhero. He even expressed a desire to participate, proposing that his Captain America boxers be displayed next to her “crime-fighting gear.” Jake would get curious and Lisa’s laundry would flap in the breeze on a daily basis. But I realized it was time to terminate this farce when he offered to hang his own underpants next to hers. So, prepared to settle the dispute amicably, I marched over to her residence. Before I could say anything, Lisa answered the door and made it plain that she wasn’t going to break her laundry routine for anyone. She dismissed my worries with a laugh, advised me to “loosen up,” and even gave me style tips for my own clothes. Despite my frustration, I remained resolute and devised a cleverly trivial scheme. Using the brightest fabric I could find, I made the biggest, flashiest pair of granny panties ever that evening. When Lisa departed the following day, I hung my work of art directly in front of her window. When she came back, the sight of the enormous underwear with a flamingo print almost took her breath away. It was worth every stitch to watch her lose her cool trying to take down my practical joke. After a while, she gave in and agreed to shift her laundry somewhere less noticeable, all the while I silently celebrated my success. After that, Lisa’s laundry disappeared from our shared vision, and everything returned to normal. What about me? In the end, I had some flamingo-themed curtains that served as a constant reminder of the day I prevailed in the suburban laundry war.
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