Three months of silence – is it a lot, or just a little? When the demands, accusations, and constant hints about money finally disappear from the house, time begins to flow differently. It feels like the air has cleared itself from some invisible poison that used to taint our daily lives. But really, it all started much earlier, back when I naively believed that family ties automatically meant mutual respect.
Elena Petrovna – that’s my mother-in-law – is a woman with some rather unique ideas about who owes whom what. Her greed was shockingly brazen, and her habit of playing the victim had long since been elevated to an art form. Igor and I always tried to keep things friendly, but my husband’s mother’s appetites only seemed to grow exponentially.
The turning point came unexpectedly. One evening, Elena Petrovna formally invited me into her room.
“Anna, come here immediately!” she called out with authority. “Explain to me, what is this?”
She was pointing at the bookshelf, where some ordinary household dust had gathered.
“One moment,” I smiled. “We’ll sort this out. Alisa! Can you tell us what dust is?”
“Dust is made up of microscopic particles from various materials, suspended in the air or settled on surfaces,” answered the smart speaker clearly.
“Trying to show off, are you?” my mother-in-law frowned. “Why are you showing me all these hi-tech gadgets?”
“They’re smart devices,” I gently corrected her. “Since you think my knowledge isn’t quite enough to answer questions like these, Alisa helped out. By the way, it’s a gift from Igor; now he’s got to choose which of us he likes more.”
“And he can’t even buy me a simple purse,” Elena Petrovna grumbled. “I’ve told him so many times, I’m still carrying around this ancient bag—if you can even call it a bag.”
“What model do you prefer?” I asked.
“Well…” she pondered. “I’d love something like Yves Saint Laurent, for example…”
“Excellent choice,” I approved. “You do have great taste. But remind me, where is it you work again? At a property management company, if I’m not mistaken?”
“At the TSG ‘Russia!’” Elena Petrovna declared proudly. “And what’s wrong with that?”
“Well, your lifestyle doesn’t quite match your income. If I were you, I’d settle for something more affordable,” I replied. “Especially considering how often you borrow money from our family budget. And Kirill, by the way, really needs a new jacket.”
Kirill is my eight-year-old son. He’s a very active boy, loves all kinds of sports, and is showing some very promising results.
“I’ll talk to Olga, maybe she has something suitable for Kirill,” my mother-in-law suggested.
Olga is my husband’s eldest daughter. She has two grown sons, and, as it happens, their grandmother adores them much more than she does my child. Elena Petrovna definitely has her favorites among her grandchildren.
“Unbelievable!” I exclaimed. “Our boy has two parents, Igor and I both have decent jobs – are we really not able to get our own son a jacket?”
“Why waste extra money?” Elena Petrovna persisted. “We could save and use that money for…”
“A designer handbag for grandma,” I suggested. “Otherwise, they won’t accept her at work!”
“Anna, you are so…” Elena Petrovna started searching for the right word. I already suspected that my mother-in-law’s vocabulary was a bit limited, but I decided to hear her opinion of me. Thankfully, she picked a relatively mild term.
“Wasteful!” she finally exhaled. “Back in the day, we lived much more modestly, never bought premade dumplings—we made them ourselves and froze them on the balcony…”
“Of course!” I jumped in. “Not to mention dueling, twirling at royal balls, believing in the tsar-emperor… When exactly did all this happen?”
That’s basically what our conversations with my husband’s mother are like. But the time Elena Petrovna lectured me for ordering pizza to our house is especially memorable.
A little background: I work as the head of procurement at a reputable company—honestly, the whole operation depends on me. That particular day, I got home late, and my mother-in-law was visiting, comfortably settled in front of our big TV, enjoying her favorite show, “Field of Wonders.”
“Finally decided to show up?” Elena Petrovna greeted me without taking her eyes off the screen. “Checked your fridge—it’s completely empty… How do you manage this house, gorgeous? Back in the day, I used to bake cabbage pies myself… Igor devoured them with such appetite, you couldn’t pull him away… And what about you?”
“My work is complete chaos right now,” I explained. “But it’s no big deal—we’ll just order pizza. The men in this house love it.”
“So much money down the drain!” Elena Petrovna started complaining. “You could’ve just made the dough, baked some pies…”
“Dear Elena Petrovna,” I finally snapped. “Please keep your medieval ideas to yourself, alright?”
I must note that my mother-in-law ended up eating more pizza than anyone else that evening and even complimented it—a rarity. Closer to the end of the night, she cleared her throat and turned to Igor:
“Son, I have a little matter to discuss… I wanted to ask for a favor…”
Right away I knew Elena Petrovna would not be asking for a leaking faucet to be fixed. She’d need money again. And, of course, I was right.
“You know it’s fall, time for preserves,” she began gingerly. “Remember how you loved lecho? And pickled cucumbers? That’s a real treasure…”
“Igor, get ready, mom’s about to name a big number,” I laughed.
“Why a big number?” Elena Petrovna was offended. “It’s only ten thousand…”
I gave my husband a meaningful look:
“Darling, I hope you’ve made a few million by now? Because your mom’s about to ask again…”
Elena Petrovna began explaining again that I didn’t understand anything, that she was doing it for our own good, so we’d have something to eat in winter. In the end, Igor gave his mother the money she’d asked for. He’s so generous when it comes to our shared budget. But we never did see any of those preserves or pickled veggies she promised—instead, one day, we discovered something pretty interesting.
One day, my husband and I stopped by Elena Petrovna’s place on some errand—I honestly can’t even remember what it was. I just really wanted to finally see that much-talked-about food processor for myself.
“Elena Petrovna, if you please,” I asked in my sweetest voice. “Where is your famous kitchen appliance? I’m dying to see this technical marvel everyone’s raving about…”
My mother-in-law immediately started to fuss, stammering and mumbling something I couldn’t understand. Long story short, there was no food processor to be found.
Even Igor couldn’t take it anymore at this point:
“Mom, this really isn’t funny anymore. What did you do with that money?”
Elena Petrovna’s face turned ghostly pale, then flushed as red as a ripe tomato.
“It was Svetlana’s birthday—she’s a good friend of mine,” she finally said.
“Let me guess!” I jumped in. “You decided to give her a royal gift—at our expense, right?”
“That’s exactly right,” she nodded. “I bought her a vacuum cleaner. You should have seen how happy she was! She truly has no one else in her life…”
It was never part of our plans to bankroll the special people in my mother-in-law’s circle. Frankly, we were really upset, because Elena Petrovna had blatantly lied to us.
“Igor, your mom works!” I scolded my husband. “Why does she think it’s okay to buy expensive gifts for her friends with our money?”
Igor promised to have a serious talk with his mother about how unacceptable her behavior was.
“Just look at my own parents,” I pointed out. “We’ve been married for years and they’ve never asked us for a single ruble. On the contrary, sometimes they help with repairs or give Kirill money for his trips. But your mom can’t even remember when it’s her own grandson’s birthday!”
Igor stayed silent. It was obvious he got it—and that he felt ashamed of his mother. But what could he really do to change her? The hard truth was, not a thing.
Later, when my parents went to a health resort, I happened to mention it to Elena Petrovna in passing. She perked up immediately:
“What did you say, Anya? How clever of them… I could really use a little rest and treatment myself.”
Honestly, my heart sank when she said that. Here we go again—Elena Petrovna would be hitting us up for money, playing the poor, sick woman card.
But this time, my mother-in-law surprised me:
“Don’t worry, Anya! I have my own funds. I’ll just need a teeny bit extra, but nothing major. I get it—I’m not planning to be a burden to you.”
Igor and I were so shocked by this that we immediately gave Elena Petrovna the small amount she needed for her trip. After all, contributing a little bit is not the same as covering everything.
Elena Petrovna left for her trip, and something big happened at my work: I got promoted to a higher position! They put me in charge of an entire department, which meant a whole new level of pay and career opportunities.
Igor and I started planning how we’d celebrate my promotion by taking the whole family to a seaside resort. We didn’t want to rush any decisions, so the plan was still up in the air.
Elena Petrovna is back from her trip looking refreshed and full of optimism, bringing along souvenirs and gifts—can you imagine that? But, of course, the news she brought wasn’t all pleasant.
“I’m not going to show any vacation pictures,” Elena Petrovna declared as our whole family sipped tea in the kitchen.
“Why not?” Igor and I asked almost at the same time. “We’re really curious to see where you went, the local scenery, and everything.”
“At the resort, I became friends with a wonderful lady,” Elena Petrovna said dreamily. “Her children love her so much they gave her a phone… with an apple, what do they call it?”
“An iPhone,” Kirill quickly answered, impressing his grandma. “It’s got a bitten apple on it.”
“That’s right, sweetheart, an iPhone,” Elena Petrovna replied. “Such wonderful kids… That phone takes amazing photos, just stunning. I want one just like it!”
“But…” I nearly choked in surprise. “Elena Petrovna, that costs a fortune! Even our director complains about prices, and he makes good money.”
Igor decided to change the subject and share some good news:
“Mom, while you were gone, Anya got promoted! Isn’t that right, darling? Now she’s leading an entire department.”
And that’s when things started getting uncomfortable…
“Explain to me where you found this job, and show me proof of your earnings,” demanded my mother-in-law.
“Why the interrogation?” I blurted, shocked. “You know exactly where I work! Yes, I got promoted, but what does this have to do with you?”
Then Elena Petrovna began pleading, passionately explaining just how badly she needed that coveted iPhone.
My husband and I resisted as much as possible, telling her there’s no special occasion right now, but if one comes up, we’d consider it. Still, my mother-in-law dug in like a stubborn teenager. She demanded we get her that blasted phone with the apple logo. She stomped her feet, waved her arms, and honestly, watching her was downright upsetting for both me and Igor.
“Mom, try to calm down,” Igor tried to reason with her. “Even if Anya got promoted, that doesn’t make her an oligarch or a minister. Plus, we have a seaside vacation planned…”
He really should have kept quiet. Elena Petrovna straightened up and got even more agitated:
“A vacation at the sea?! Did you just say ‘the sea’?! So you all sent me off to some cheap boarding house and now you’re going to a resort yourselves?”
“What’s so unusual about that?” I casually asked my mother-in-law. “In all our years together, we’ve never gone to the sea. Don’t you think we deserve it?”
“Your first responsibility is to take care of me,” Elena Petrovna replied as if it were obvious. “I’m the pillar of this family—you owe me because I’m Igor’s mother.”
Even Igor found her words to be ridiculous:
“Mom, we have a child now, we’re a family. Plus, haven’t we always helped you?”
“Well, Raisa from the fifth floor—her son gave her a car!” Elena Petrovna suddenly exclaimed. “She’s a mother, too, she deserved it…”
That was the last straw for me:
— Elena Petrovna, do you want the truth? Fine, here’s the truth. When was the last time you gave your grandson a birthday present? Can’t remember? Neither can I. And another thing, I’m tired of you constantly squeezing money out of us for this, that, and everything else.
My mother-in-law stared at me with a gloomy expression—clearly, my words had really struck a nerve. She shifted her gaze from me, to her son, to Kirill, as if weighing her response. Then, Elena Petrovna gathered herself and delivered a truly classic line:
— Is that so? Lena, I’ve finally heard some kind words… thank you very much! I never thought all three of you would gang up on me…
— What are you talking about, mom? — Igor frowned. — There’s absolutely nothing to accuse us of, no matter how hard you try.
Elena Petrovna wasn’t listening to him anymore. She hurriedly put on her coat in the hallway. I held Igor back:
— Don’t, let her go. When she realizes everything, she’ll come back and apologize on her own.
It’s been about three months already, and there’s still no sign of Elena Petrovna. Apparently, she hasn’t come to her senses yet. Well, we’re not in any rush—we have our whole lives ahead of us.
