My mother and my husband had a ‘ Tom and Jerry’ type of relationship right from the very beginning. Actually, the first time my husband met my stents, it was so awkward. He arrived, and my mom called him by a different name, as if to suggest that I was seeing multiple people and she had confused him with someone else. She was against this match as my husband works as a chef in a five-star hotel. According to her, he was below in qualifications and status. It all started from there.
You never know what explosions will take place when these two combustible substances come together. I had a C-section, and my mother came to stay with us to help my husband take care of me. He was over the moon on hearing this news and grumbled the whole night.
My husband is very possessive about his kitchen and organises it very neatly, and does not like anybody meddling in his kitchen or creating a ruckus in it. He came home and went into his highly organised kitchen, but couldn’t find anything. Yeah! My mother had entered his kitchen and messed up his organisation.
My mother, with a smirk on her face, entered the Lion’s den. “Oh! I straightened up your kitchen; it was so silly. How do you have all the stuff arranged?” said she.
“Excuse me! I had it arranged exactly how I wanted it. Thank you for your hard work,” said my husband sarcastically.
My mother knew this would upset him. She started throwing tantrums “Well, see if I ever do anything for you again.”
I was still taking my mother’s side; she was just doing something nice.
He grumbled, “My mother-in-law and my wife run my family. They make decisions, and I do not have a voice.”
After a few months, my mother fell ill, and my husband suggested we move to her place for some days to take care of her. As the baby was also very small, it was difficult for me to move to and fro. I stared at my husband and loved him more for this. I was the only daughter, so my responsibility was even more. He looked after her like a true son, and her heart melted towards him.
When I thought everything was getting on the right foot, the time bomb exploded. My husband entered my mother’s kitchen and rearranged it. He put pans in the laundry room above the washer, dishes under the sink, laid her utensils on a cabinet shelf, etc. On getting better, when my mother entered her kitchen – blast. She called my husband, demanding to know if he had messed up her kitchen.
Smirking, my husband replied, “Oh, yes, I was so thankful to you for organising my kitchen when you stayed with us. I wanted to thank you by redoing yours while you were recuperating from your illness. It was such a mess, and I spent all day working on it!”
I just laughed at this tussle between Tom and Jerry. My mother just banged the phone, and now she never messes with his kitchen cabinets. Game, set, match.
Mona
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