Lera wiped the sweat from her forehead and glanced at the clock. It was half past five in the evening, and at home nothing was ready yet for her husband’s return. The August heat made cleaning especially exhausting, but in the two-room apartment she had inherited from her parents, order always had to be maintained.
Konstantin was due back from work in an hour, and the dishes from yesterday’s dinner were still sitting in the sink. Lera quickly turned on the water and started washing plates when the doorbell rang.
“Who is it?” Lera shouted without looking up from the dishes.
“It’s me, Galina Petrovna! Open up!”
Lera froze with a wet plate in her hands. Her mother-in-law had shown up again without warning. From the very beginning of their married life, her relationship with her husband’s mother had been tense. Galina Petrovna considered it her duty to control her son’s life and constantly gave advice no one had asked for.
“Just a second!” Lera quickly dried her hands and went to open the door.
Galina Petrovna stood on the threshold with a displeased expression. A woman of about sixty, always neatly groomed and dressed, she surveyed the entryway with a critical eye.
“Hello,” her mother-in-law greeted her curtly as she stepped into the apartment. “Where’s Konstantin?”
“He hasn’t come home from work yet,” Lera replied, closing the door. “Come into the kitchen—I’ll put the kettle on.”
Galina Petrovna walked into the kitchen and immediately noticed the unwashed dishes in the sink. Her eyebrows shot up.
“I would have done it differently,” she remarked, pointing at the sink. “Dishes should be washed right after eating, not left for later.”
Lera clenched her teeth and kept filling the kettle. She heard comments like this every time her mother-in-law visited—either the house wasn’t tidy enough, the cooking wasn’t right, or her husband looked tired.
“I work until six,” Lera explained calmly. “I don’t always have time to do everything.”
“You need to use the sponge like this,” Galina Petrovna said, taking it and demonstrating how to wash dishes “properly.” “In circular motions, not just any old way.”
Lera watched in silence. Her mother-in-law was demonstrating dishwashing technique as if Lera were a small child holding a sponge for the first time.
“Thanks, I’ll remember,” Lera forced out.
Konstantin returned home when his mother had already been lecturing for half an hour about proper housekeeping. He hugged his wife and kissed his mother on the cheek.
“Mom, how are you? I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Oh, I just stopped by,” Galina Petrovna smiled at her son. “I wanted to make sure you’re eating properly and not overworking yourself.”
Konstantin pretended not to notice his mother’s antics. He sat down, ate dinner, and nodded along to her comments, avoiding any argument. Lera understood that he simply didn’t want to fight with his mother—but his stance irritated her.
After her mother-in-law left, Lera tried to talk to her husband.
“Kostya, your mother makes remarks to me every time. Don’t you notice?”
“Mom’s just worried,” Konstantin brushed it off. “Don’t pay attention.”
“Easy for you to say ‘don’t pay attention’ when someone explains to you every time how to live properly in your own apartment.”
Konstantin shrugged and turned on the TV. The discussion ended before it even began.
A week later Galina Petrovna showed up again without warning. This time she came in the morning, when Lera hadn’t had a chance to tidy up after breakfast. Breadcrumbs on the table and unwashed mugs triggered a fresh wave of disapproval.
“Lera, have you ever thought about buying a tablecloth?” her mother-in-law ran a finger along the tabletop. “A table without a tablecloth looks unwelcoming.”
“We have a tablecloth—it’s just not laid out,” Lera replied, sweeping up the crumbs.
“It should be laid out all the time. A home should look respectable at any moment.”
Lera nodded and went to spread the tablecloth. Galina Petrovna walked into the living room and began inspecting the furniture.
“The sofa is in the wrong place,” she declared. “It’s better against the other wall—then the room will look bigger.”
“We like it the way it is,” Lera objected.
“I would put it differently,” Galina Petrovna insisted. “I have an eye for interiors.”
Lera’s inner irritation built with every visit. Her mother-in-law criticized everything—from furniture placement to how food was stored in the fridge. Konstantin still didn’t step in, preferring to act as if nothing was happening.
One Saturday morning Galina Petrovna called Lera.
“Lera, I need help with cleaning. Come over and show me what you can do.”
“Okay,” Lera agreed. “What time should I come?”
“Two o’clock. And bring gloves—we’ll wash the windows.”
Lera put her weekend plans aside and arrived at the appointed time. Galina Petrovna lived in a three-room apartment in an old building. It was kept in perfect order, but she had decided to do a deep clean.
“We’ll start with the kitchen,” Galina Petrovna ordered. “Here’s a rag—wipe down the countertop.”
Lera took the rag and began wiping the kitchen table. The surface was nearly clean, but her mother-in-law demanded everything be polished to a shine.
“Not like that,” Galina Petrovna stopped her after a minute. “I don’t like how you’re doing it.”
Lera paused and looked at her.
“Then how is it supposed to be?”
“You need to wipe systematically, from one edge to the other. And you’re moving the rag around randomly.”
“I’m wiping the whole table,” Lera said, surprised. “What difference does the order make?”
“A huge difference!” Galina Petrovna snapped. “If you do it without a system, you’ll leave dirty spots.”
Lera tried wiping in the order indicated, but her mother-in-law kept finding faults.
“Too fast. You need to be more thorough. And rinse the rag more often.”
“Galina Petrovna, maybe I should wash the windows instead?” Lera offered.
“Finish the table first. If you can’t do simple things, how can I trust you with anything more difficult?”
Lera’s irritation reached its limit. Her mother-in-law behaved as if Lera were a useless servant, not her son’s wife.
“I think the table is clean enough,” Lera said, setting the rag aside.
“I think it isn’t,” Galina Petrovna cut her off. “And in general, if you don’t want to help properly, you’d better go home.”
Lera took a deep breath. Her patience was gone.
“You know what, Galina Petrovna? If you don’t like the way I clean, then clean it yourself. And if you don’t like how I run my household at home, then stop coming to our place with inspections.”
“What?!” Galina Petrovna turned red with outrage. “How dare you talk to me like that?”
“The same way you talk to me,” Lera replied calmly. “I’m tired of the constant remarks and criticism. We’re adults—we can decide for ourselves how to live in our own apartment.”
“How can you!” her mother-in-law screamed. “I’m Konstantin’s mother!”
“So what? That doesn’t give you the right to tell us how to live.”
Lera headed for the door. Galina Petrovna followed, still fuming.
“I’ll tell my son how you spoke to me! He’ll find out what kind of wife he has!”
“Go ahead,” Lera said as she put on her shoes in the entryway. “Let him know the truth.”
“You’ll regret this!” Galina Petrovna yelled. “I won’t let an ungrateful girl behave like this!”
Lera walked out and shut the door behind her. The stairwell was quiet; only Galina Petrovna’s angry shouting could be heard from behind the door.
At home, Lera sat down at the kitchen table and tried to calm herself. The conflict had been inevitable, but now she needed to prepare for a conversation with her husband. Konstantin would definitely hear about what happened from his mother, and it was unclear whose side he would take.
That evening Konstantin came home from work earlier than usual. His face was gloomy.
“Mom called,” Konstantin said without even greeting her. “She told me about today.”
“And what did she say?” Lera asked calmly.
“That you were rude, refused to help, and left, slamming the door.”
“That’s not exactly how it was,” Lera said, and told him her version of events.
Konstantin listened in silence, nodding occasionally. When she finished, he sat down across from her.
“Lera, Mom is an old woman. You could have put up with it.”
“Kostya, and how much longer am I supposed to put up with it?” Lera looked at him. “Your mother comes into our home and criticizes everything. She tells me how to cook, how to clean, how to arrange the furniture. This is our apartment, our life.”
“She just wants to help.”
“Help?” Lera said, surprised. “She wants to control us. And you see it perfectly well, but you prefer to pretend nothing is happening.”
Konstantin stood and paced around the kitchen.
“What do you want—from me to fight with my mother?”
“I want you to talk to her and explain that we’re adults. That we have the right to live the way we think is best.”
“And if Mom gets offended and stops talking to us?”
“Honestly?” Lera shrugged. “That wouldn’t be so bad.”
Konstantin stopped and looked at her in disbelief.
“You’re serious?”
“Completely. Your mother turns every visit into an inspection. She criticizes everything, lectures us, and behaves like we’re children. I’m sick of it.”
Konstantin sat back down. The silence dragged on.
The next day Lera spent the whole evening thinking about what had happened. Her husband still didn’t give a clear answer about talking to his mother. Konstantin went to bed, mumbling something vague about everything settling down on its own.
On Saturday morning, while Konstantin was still asleep, the doorbell rang. Lera went to the intercom and heard Galina Petrovna’s familiar voice.
“Open up—it’s me!”
Lera pressed the button and waited by the door. A few minutes later her mother-in-law appeared on the threshold. Galina Petrovna looked solemn and held a bag of groceries.
“Hello,” her mother-in-law greeted her dryly. “I brought Konstantin homemade cutlets. I know he loves them.”
Lera straightened and looked at her mother-in-law with a long, cold stare. After yesterday’s conflict, Galina Petrovna was acting as if nothing had happened.
“Come in,” Lera said evenly, stepping aside.
Galina Petrovna went into the kitchen and began pulling containers of food out of the bag.
“Where’s my son? Still asleep? It’s eleven in the morning!” she shook her head. “He needs to go to bed earlier—then it’ll be easier to wake up.”
“Konstantin works all week,” Lera replied. “Weekends are for resting.”
“You can rest usefully too,” Galina Petrovna remarked, scanning the kitchen. “For example, you could have cleaned the stove better. See those streaks?”
Lera felt irritation boiling up again. Her mother-in-law was continuing the inspections as if yesterday’s talk had been a simple misunderstanding.
“Galina Petrovna,” Lera said slowly. “Why did you call me yesterday to help if you were going to be unhappy with the result anyway?”
Her mother-in-law waved her off and continued arranging containers in the fridge.
“Don’t take it personally—I just have my standards. I’m used to doing everything properly.”
“So I do things improperly, then?”
“Well… let’s say you don’t always measure up to the necessary level,” Galina Petrovna shrugged. “It’s not a big deal—you can learn.”
Lera realized it was time to stop this endless exchange of dissatisfaction. Her mother-in-law would never change her attitude, and Konstantin wouldn’t defend his wife. That meant Lera had to act on her own.
“Got it,” Lera nodded. “Thanks for being honest.”
“Good—now we understand each other,” Galina Petrovna said with satisfaction. “The main thing is not to be offended, but to work on yourself.”
Konstantin, newly awake, came into the kitchen in sweatpants and a T-shirt. Seeing his mother, he brightened and kissed her on the cheek.
“Mom! Didn’t expect to see you so early.”
“I brought you some cutlets,” his mother cooed. “I know you’ve loved them since you were little.”
“Thanks!” Konstantin opened a container and breathed in the aroma. “Smells amazing.”
Lera watched the scene in silence. Mother and son spoke warmly and naturally, as if yesterday’s conflict had been forgotten. Galina Petrovna told him news, asked about his work, and offered health advice.
After his mother left, Lera spent the whole day thinking about the situation. In the evening, while Konstantin watched TV, she approached him.
“Kostya, your mother criticized me again today. About the stove. About her ‘quality standards.’”
“So what?” Konstantin replied without taking his eyes off the screen. “Don’t pay attention.”
“I won’t pay attention anymore,” Lera said firmly. “But I won’t tolerate it either.”
Konstantin turned to her.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to mirror her. If your mother thinks she can criticize me in my home, she’ll get an appropriate response.”
“Lera, don’t create problems,” Konstantin said tiredly.
“I’m not the one creating problems,” Lera answered and walked into the bedroom.
The next few days were calm. Konstantin went to work, Lera handled chores and worked too. In the evenings they ate dinner and watched TV, trying not to return to the unpleasant topic.
On Wednesday around seven in the evening, the doorbell rang again. Lera looked through the peephole and saw Galina Petrovna holding a large bag.
Lera took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and opened the door. Her mother-in-law stood on the threshold with her usual expression of someone in charge.
“Hello,” Galina Petrovna said. “Is Konstantin home?”
“He hasn’t come back from work yet,” Lera replied, but didn’t step aside.
“Then I’ll wait,” her mother-in-law tried to enter, but Lera stayed in the doorway.
“Galina Petrovna,” Lera said evenly. “If you don’t like the way I clean in your house, then don’t come into mine.”
Her mother-in-law stopped and stared at her, surprised.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“About the fact that the day before yesterday you talked about your standards and me not measuring up. If I’m not good enough for you, then why would you want to be in a home where such an ‘unsuitable’ hostess lives?”
“Have you lost your mind?” Galina Petrovna burst out. “This is my son’s apartment!”
“This is my apartment—I inherited it from my parents. And I decide who I let in here.”
Lera slowly closed the door in her mother-in-law’s face, leaving Galina Petrovna in the hallway. Angry voices sounded from behind the door—apparently she was banging and shouting.
After a few minutes, the noise died down. Lera went to the kitchen and sat at the table. Her hands trembled slightly from the nervous tension, but inside she felt a strange relief.
Konstantin returned home half an hour later. His face was dark, and his phone wouldn’t stop ringing.
“It’s Mom calling,” Konstantin said, rejecting yet another call. “What happened? Why didn’t you let her in?”
“I explained Galina Petrovna the logic of her own words,” Lera answered calmly. “If she doesn’t like how I run the household, then why does she come into my home?”
“Lera, you do understand she’s my mother!”
“I do. And what? Does that give your mother the right to insult me in my apartment?”
Konstantin sat down across from his wife. The phone rang again; he muted it.
“Mom says you were rude and slammed the door in her face.”
“I told the truth and closed my own door,” Lera corrected him. “If your mother thinks the truth is rudeness, that’s her problem.”
“And if Mom never comes to us again?”
“Wonderful,” Lera said without hesitation. “No one will be teaching me how to live in my own home anymore.”
Konstantin was silent for several minutes, thinking.
“Lera, maybe you should call Mom and apologize. Just for the sake of family peace?”
“No,” Lera said firmly. “I’m tired of apologizing for defending my dignity. If you want to see your mother—meet her anywhere you like, just not here.”
“So you’re banning my mother from coming to our house?”
“I’m banning someone who doesn’t respect me from coming in. Your mother can come when she learns to behave decently.”
Konstantin stood and paced again.
“And if Mom never changes?”
“Then we’ll meet in a café or at her place,” Lera suggested. “On neutral territory, where Galina Petrovna won’t be able to criticize my housekeeping.”
Konstantin stopped by the window and looked outside.
“I think you’re being too categorical.”
“I think I tolerated it for too long,” Lera shot back. “For two years your mother criticized me, lectured me, and acted like an inspector. Enough.”
In the following days Galina Petrovna called Konstantin and complained about her daughter-in-law. Konstantin tried to persuade Lera to reconcile, but she wouldn’t budge. Her mother-in-law had to apologize and change her behavior, or her visits to the young couple’s apartment would stop.
A week later Konstantin said he had met his mother at a café near her home.
“Mom is offended, but she agreed to meet on neutral territory,” he told his wife. “Though she still thinks you acted wrongly.”
“Let her think whatever she wants,” Lera replied. “The main thing is the surprise visits stopped.”
And indeed, after that incident Galina Petrovna no longer appeared at their door. Their rare meetings took place at a café or at the mother-in-law’s home, where she could criticize whatever she wanted—but not Lera’s household.
At first Konstantin regretted what had happened, but gradually he grew used to the new arrangement. Dinners at home became calmer; no one commented on furniture placement or cooking methods.
A month later Konstantin admitted to his wife:
“You know, it’s gotten much calmer at home. I didn’t even realize how much Mom’s visits were stressing the atmosphere.”
“Now you do?” Lera smiled.
“I do. And I guess you were right. We should have set boundaries earlier.”
Lera hugged her husband. The conflict with her mother-in-law had been painful but necessary. Sometimes, to earn respect, you have to act firmly. Galina Petrovna finally understood that her daughter-in-law would not tolerate disrespect in her own home.
Family peace returned—but on different terms: with clear boundaries and mutual respect for personal space