I always knew my mother-in-law, Linda, never really liked me. But I never thought 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 trying to be helpful. I had no idea she had other plans for my clothes.
From the moment I married David, Linda made it crystal clear—I was not her ideal daughter-in-law. She had an opinion about everything I did, from the way I cooked to how I folded shirts. And when I became a mother to our two boys, Nathan and Lucas, she had even more to say.
“You’re not feeding them enough protein,” she’d declare, scanning my kitchen like a health inspector.
Or, “David never liked his shirts folded this way. I taught him better than this.”
My personal favorite? “You should dress the boys in something more presentable. You never know who’s watching.”
It was exhausting. But instead of fighting back, I took the high road. I stopped engaging. I kept my distance. And David—bless his heart—supported me completely.
“You don’t have to force a relationship with her,” he assured me one evening as we cleaned up after dinner. “I know she can be a lot. I’ll handle her.”
And he did. He called her, visited her, sent her gifts. He did everything a good son should do, and I never got in the way of their bond. Just because she didn’t like me didn’t mean I wanted to come between them.
But Linda? She wasn’t happy with that. She noticed my absence.
“Why don’t you come over with David anymore?” she’d ask.
“You used to call me more often,” she’d text randomly.
It was almost like she missed criticizing me. But as long as she wasn’t causing serious trouble, I let it go.
And then, two weeks before Valentine’s Day, I got sick. And that’s when everything spiraled out of control.
At first, it was just a mild fever. But soon, it turned into exhaustion, body aches, and a cough that wouldn’t go away. Of course, just as I started feeling a little better, Nathan and Lucas caught it too. It wasn’t serious—just a stubborn virus that knocked us off our feet. But by the time the worst of it passed, I felt like I had been run over by a truck.
The house was a disaster. Laundry piled up. Dishes sat in the sink. I barely had the energy to function. So, when I finally started feeling human again, I decided to do something nice—I invited my sister and parents over for lunch.
I didn’t invite Linda. Why would I?
But somehow, she found out.
At exactly 1:30 p.m., the doorbell rang. When I opened it, there she was, smiling sweetly.
“I heard you weren’t feeling well, dear,” she said. “I thought I’d stop by to help.”
Linda? Helping? That was new.
I glanced at David, who was standing near the couch. He looked just as surprised as I felt.
“Oh… that’s nice of you,” I said cautiously.
Linda smiled wider. “How are the boys?” She ruffled Nathan’s hair and cooed over Lucas. Then, she turned to me. “And you, sweetheart? You look so pale. You shouldn’t be up and about already.”
Was she… being nice? This felt suspicious.
“I’m fine,” I said, watching her carefully.
“Well, of course you are!” she chirped before her eyes landed on the mountain of laundry baskets in the corner. “Oh, Evelyn. You shouldn’t have to deal with all this in your condition.”
She turned to David. “Why don’t I take some of it home with me? I’ll wash it and bring it back fresh and folded.”
I stiffened. Linda? Doing favors?
“That’s really not necessary,” I said quickly. “I can get to it this weekend.”
But she waved me off. “Nonsense! It’s no trouble at all. I’d be happy to help.”
David, without hesitation, said, “That’d be great, Mom. Thanks.”
I shot him a look. Seriously?
Linda didn’t waste any time. She grabbed a basket, hauled it to the door, and before I could protest, David was helping her load it into her car.
Something about this felt wrong. But what could I say? She was doing something nice… right?
Two days passed. I had almost forgotten about the laundry situation—until David got a text from his mom. He walked into the kitchen, looking confused.
“You’re not gonna believe this,” he said, holding up his phone.
I took it from him and read Linda’s message:
David, I can’t believe what your wife did! I have been sick all night—fever, chills, the worst headache ever! 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 mentioned she was getting rid of some. And now I’M SICK! She should have warned me!
I nearly gagged. “She… she tried on my clothes?”
David sighed. “Looks like it.”
“My dirty clothes. That I wore while I was sick?”
“Yep.”
I dropped the phone like it was contaminated. “That’s disgusting!”
And then, another message buzzed in.
Medical expenses aren’t 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!
“Oh, she’s lost it,” I muttered. “Completely lost it.”
David took the phone from me. “I’m calling her.”
He put the call on speaker. Linda answered immediately.
“I was just about to call you!” she snapped. “Did you read my message? I hope you understand how serious this is.”
David exhaled sharply. “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!”
“No, Mom. You offered to wash them, not wear them.”
“So you’re taking her side? Like always?”
David groaned. “You stole her clothes, got sick, and now you’re trying to get money out of us. You have no one to blame but yourself.”
Silence. Then, Linda mumbled, “Some of those clothes were actually nice.”
I gasped. “What does that mean?”
David shook his head. “Mom, return whatever you took. You can’t keep anything.”
“But—”
“Enough, Mom. If you keep texting Evelyn about this, I won’t be calling or visiting anytime soon.”
Silence. Then—beep. She hung up.
A few days later, a package arrived. Inside were some of my clothes—all faded pink. Linda had ruined them.
For some reason, I didn’t even feel angry. Just exhausted.
David peered over my shoulder. “You’re not actually gonna wear those again, right?”
“Are you kidding? After where they’ve been? Burn pile.”
David chuckled. “Lesson learned. If your mom offers to do laundry, say yes. If mine offers?”
“Run.”
We both burst out laughing. Deal.