When my mother-in-law, Linda, moved in “for a little while,” I braced myself. She’d always been critical, but I never expected her to treat our home like a hotel. She refused to help around the house, constantly reminded me she was a “guest,” and let me pick up after her like some unpaid maid. Dirty dishes, smeared mirrors, and laundry dumped into my hamper became the new norm. And Jason—my husband—was no help,
always siding with, “She’s just trying to get settled.”Things hit a breaking point the day I found Linda sipping my special coffee from my favorite mug—after using the last of it—and leaving a disaster in the kitchen. But instead of blowing up, I smiled… and started plotting.If she wanted to be treated like a guest?