My MIL Gifted Me a Book, ‘100 Steps to Become a Good Wife for My Precious Son,’ So I Decided to Put an End to This — Story of the Day

On my wedding day, as vows were exchanged and love filled the air, Rick’s mother, Irene, found a way to steal the spotlight. From her dramatic interruption at the altar to gifting me a book, “How to Be a Good Wife for My Precious Son”, it was clear: she wasn’t ready to let me into her world—or her son’s.

I stood by the altar in my wedding dress, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me.

My fingers trembled slightly as I gripped the piece of paper with my vows, the edges soft and worn from nervous handling.

The air smelled faintly of roses and candles, and the faint rustle of silk from the guests’ outfits added a quiet hum to the room.

Across from me, Rick stood tall, his dark suit perfectly tailored to his broad frame.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

His smile was warm, reassuring, and completely for me. I felt my heart swell as I met his gaze.

“If you’ve prepared your vows, please exchange them now,” the officiant said, his voice gentle but firm, breaking through the haze of my emotions.

I unfolded my paper, smoothing it out with care.

“Rick, I love you,” I began, my voice steady but laced with emotion. I could see his expression soften, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I wasn’t sure how to begin, but I decided to start with what’s most important.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

A small smile played on my lips, and Rick chuckled softly, that familiar sound that always made me feel at home.

“These past four years we’ve spent together have changed my life,” I continued, my voice growing steadier as I found my rhythm.

“I was afraid of losing my old life and drowning in a relationship, so I hesitated for a long time. You know how hard it is for me to take big steps…”

“But I’m so glad I took this step,” I said, my smile widening.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’m glad I’m standing here before you now. With you, I feel like I’m becoming the best version of myself. I love you, Rick.” My words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity.

There was a soft murmur of approval from the guests—subtle, but enough to remind me we weren’t alone in this moment.

“Samantha, I love you. You know I’m not one for long speeches,” he began, earning a light laugh from the crowd.

“So I’ll just say this: I’m happy you’re becoming my wife today. From now on, we’re a family, and family always sticks together.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The officiant smiled. “Samantha, do you take Rick to be your husband?”

“I do!” My voice rang out clearly.

“Rick, do you take Samantha to be your wife?”

“I do,” Rick said, his voice steady and full of conviction.

“If anyone here objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace,” the officiant continued.

The room went still, the silence palpable. I felt my breath hitch. Then, to my horror, Irene stood up.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Of course, she couldn’t just let this be about us. She always had to make herself the center of attention.

“Sorry, I just needed to go to the bathroom. Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Irene said, her voice sugary sweet and her smile tight.

“Mom!” Rick snapped, clearly exasperated. He gestured for her to sit, his jaw tightening. Irene waved him off, taking her seat with an air of mock innocence.

I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying something I’d regret.

The officiant quickly regained control. “I now pronounce Samantha and Rick husband and wife!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The applause exploded, filling the room. Rick kissed me, his lips warm and full of love, and for a moment, the world felt perfect.

But as I glanced toward the guests, my eyes landed on Irene’s empty chair. It didn’t surprise me. Not one bit.

The reception was in full swing. Music filled the air, guests laughed, and the soft clinking of glasses blended into the hum of celebration.

I should’ve been floating on a cloud of happiness, surrounded by friends and family, but instead, my mood was sour.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

My thoughts were stuck on the ceremony, replaying Irene’s little stunt over and over.

“You know she did that on purpose…” I muttered to Rick, sitting close beside me.

Rick sighed, his patience already thinning.

“Sweetheart, that’s not true. My mom loves you and respects my choice. Don’t make things up.”

“Loves me so much she couldn’t even wait a single minute until the ceremony was over? Seriously, Rick?” I shot back, keeping my voice low but firm.

“She’s an older woman. She probably really needed to go,” Rick argued, his tone defensive. “Or would you have preferred she… handled it right there in the hall?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

His eyebrows rose slightly, as if that was the ultimate argument-ender.

“Rick! Enough!” I snapped, crossing my arms. How could he be so blind to her little games?

At that moment, as if summoned by our discussion, Irene approached our table. Her face was stretched into that same overly sweet smile she always wore, the one that made my skin crawl.

“My dear son,” she said warmly, wrapping Rick in a hug. “Congratulations on your big day. I hope Samantha will take good care of you and that you’ll be happy!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Thanks, Mom,” Rick replied, grinning as if she hadn’t just insulted me in the guise of kindness.

Irene then turned to me, her smile never wavering, and handed me a small, neatly wrapped package.

I stared at it, reluctant to take it.

I peeled back the paper slowly, my stomach twisting with dread. When the cover of the book came into view, my chest tightened.

“How to Be a Good Wife for My Precious Son,” it read, in a perfectly polished font. I froze, staring at the title.

It even had her name printed below: “By Irene.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

My teeth clenched so hard I thought I might chip them. I forced a polite smile, but my hands were shaking.

“What’s this, Mom?” Rick asked, grabbing the book from me and flipping through the pages.

“Oh, nothing,” Irene said with a casual wave of her hand.

“I just thought Samantha could use a little guidance and advice.”

Rick, oblivious as ever, grinned.

“Oh, wow! It even has my favorite cookie recipe from when I was a kid! Mom, did you print this book yourself?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“All for my beloved son!” Irene chirped.

“Thank you, Irene,” I said through gritted teeth, somehow summoning the strength to be civil. “I’ll be sure to study this book carefully.”

“Samantha, don’t be mad,” Rick added, his tone almost scolding. “It’s a wonderful gift. Mom put so much effort into it.”

“Uh-huh,” I muttered, forcing a tight smile. Inside, I was screaming. But this wasn’t the time or place. Not yet.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Married life felt like a dream at first.

The days were filled with stolen kisses in the kitchen, whispered promises late at night, and the kind of laughter that made everything else fade away.

For a week, it was just us—our own little world, untouched by anything else.

But like a crack in glass, that perfect world fractured with one name: Irene.

“My mom’s coming over for dinner tonight,” Rick said casually while scrolling through his phone.

I froze, spatula mid-air. “What? Why?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He looked up, confused. “She’s my mom. Why can’t she just visit?”

“So she’s just coming for a visit?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Well… she wanted to cook dinner for us.”

I let out a sharp laugh. “So she thinks I can’t cook dinner myself?”

Rick sighed, already weary of this conversation. “Of course not! She just wants to help…”

“Oh, help me be a good wife for her precious son…” I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Samantha! You’re misunderstanding again!” he snapped, his patience wearing thin.

“No, I understand perfectly,” I said firmly. “Your mom hates me and uses every excuse to meddle. What time is she coming?”

Rick hesitated. “In a couple of hours.”

“Good,” I said, already standing. “That gives me time to prepare.”

For the next two hours, I moved through the house like a storm—cleaning, cooking, and setting the table with meticulous care.

If Irene wanted a show, I was going to give her one. And I had a little surprise in mind, too.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The doorbell rang, echoing through the house, and I felt my shoulders tense. Rick hurried to open it, his face lighting up as he greeted her.

“Mom!” he said warmly, pulling her into a hug.

I stood a few steps behind, forcing a polite smile. “Welcome, Irene,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Irene replied with a saccharine smile. “We’re family now. This is my home too.”

“As you say,” I murmured, stepping aside as she waltzed into the living room like she owned the place.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Her eyes immediately fell on the dining table, perfectly set and laden with food.

“So, you’ve already prepared everything?” she said, her voice tinged with disappointment.

“What a shame—I was hoping to cook myself…”

“There’s no need,” I replied calmly. “I’ve taken care of everything.”

“Well, we’ll see,” she said, her tone as sharp as a knife, before sitting down at the table.

She scanned the spread, her gaze landing on the soup. “Oh, is this tomato soup from my book? You’re already trying out the recipes?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Yes, very useful recipes, thank you. But I made a few improvements…”

“Improvements?” she repeated, her voice rising indignantly.

Rick, oblivious to the tension, took a big spoonful and groaned in delight. “Oh my gosh, Samantha, this is the best tomato soup I’ve ever had!”

Irene’s smile faltered. “And my cupcakes…” she muttered under her breath as Rick continued eating enthusiastically.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Her displeasure was written all over her face, and I knew this was my moment. Rick went to the bathroom, and that was the moment I’d waited for to launch my plan.

“Irene,” I began, smiling sweetly, “your book inspired me so much that I wanted to repay your kindness.”

I picked up the remote and clicked a button. The projector on the wall flickered to life, displaying bold letters:

“How to Mind Your Own Business.”

“Today I proved that I’m more than capable of running my home and taking care of my husband. Irene, I appreciate your advice, but I’ll handle my life on my own terms.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Irene shot up from her seat, her face red with anger. “You’re not fit to be my son’s wife! And you know it!”

“Mom! How can you say that?” Rick walked inside the room, stunned.

“Rick, you know it’s true,” Irene snapped. “She’s not worthy of you.”

“Mom, enough!” Rick’s voice was firm now.

“I love Samantha, and you’ll accept my choice, whether you like it or not. I think it’s time for you to go home. I’ll call you a taxi.”

“Fine, dear…” Irene said with a huff, finally relenting.

I nodded silently, my heart pounding. For once, I felt victorious. In this battle for boundaries, I had finally taken a stand—and won.

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

A Handy Solution for Dealing with Earwigs at Home

Although most of us can live without some creepy crawlies, we have all encountered bugs in our houses at some point.If you reside in a rural region, you are undoubtedly accustomed to insects like ants, spiders, flies, and others trying to get inside your house in the summer and beyond. These bug guests don’t disturb some people, but others don’t think they’re very welcome. In my opinion, neither spiders nor sporadic flies worry me when they weave their webs in the corners of the room. Earwigs are one insect, nevertheless, that I don’t like.

Despite their diminutive size, earwigs are not cute at all. Despite their appearance of having a painful bite or sting, they are not harmful. Even though earwigs are harmless, most people don’t want a swarm of them scuttling around their houses. I therefore found a certain trick for handling them to be quite helpful.

A shallow bowl filled with olive oil

Facebook user Alicia Alexander suggests that the best way to catch earwigs is to put a shallow dish outside on your deck or in your backyard filled with half a cup of olive oil. Earwigs are drawn to the delicious scent of olive oil, and once they enter the bowl, they cannot escape. According to Alicia, the bowl managed to gather a sizable number of earwigs in less than a day.

Please review the image below:

A shallow bowl filled with trapped earwigs (after less than 24 hours)

And the same bowl became considerably fuller after 36 hours.

A shallow bowl filled with trapped earwigs (after 36 hours)

Because earwigs are drawn to the sweetness of olive oil, you can efficiently deal with an earwig infestation in your home by using this technique!

Not to scare you, but if you find an extraordinary amount of earwigs in your house, it may be a sign that there are issues with rotting wood. Many insects are drawn to decaying wood, including earwigs, so it’s important to inspect any wooden structures you may have at home.

It’s not alarming, though, if earwigs are looking for warmer circumstances within your home. It’s quite natural, and you won’t likely feel any impact at all from their presence.

Have you heard about this easy method for eliminating earwigs? Tell us in the comments below!

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*