“Your son pays for delicacies for you, while we buy groceries on installment,” Alina snapped back at her mother-in-law.

The card was declined. Try again, please,” the cashier said without even looking up. Alina pressed the card to the terminal again. Another short beep. Another red message on the screen. Behind her, someone let out an exaggerated sigh. Someone else dropped their shopping basket with a loud clatter. “Miss, maybe you have cash? People … Read more

“You’re all living off the money I earn, and you still have complaints about me?” the woman asked in disbelief.

“Oxana, a normal woman comes home after work. She doesn’t sit in the office until night!” her mother-in-law announced loudly in front of the relatives, setting another plate on the table. For a brief moment, silence hung in the hallway. Oxana quietly placed the heavy grocery bags against the wall, slowly took off her coat, … Read more

“Sergey, your wife is a beggar. Just look at what she brought me for my anniversary!” my mother-in-law shouted in front of all the guests.

“What is this?!” Tamara Vasilyevna held my box between two fingers, as if it were a dead mouse. “Is THIS what you brought me for my anniversary? A tea set? It probably costs two thousand rubles at most! You’re embarrassing me in front of my guests!” Silence fell over the festive table. The guests — … Read more

“There will be no anniversary party in my apartment! I’m not a free banquet hall for your entire family!” Dasha snapped.

“So, on Saturday there’ll be about twelve of us,” Galina Petrovna said, standing in the hallway without even taking off her shoes, shaking wet snow from her beret straight onto the doormat. “But don’t panic, Dasha. I’ve already planned the hot dishes: accordion-style pork, country potatoes, two salads, and something sweet. You make that honey … Read more

My mother-in-law raised her glass and said, “May you move out in the New Year!” I quietly showed her the papers: I had bought that house the day before.

Zinaida Igorevna swung her arm wide and flung an awful burgundy synthetic blanket over my favorite light-colored armchair. The rough, prickly fabric of that чужой throw caught on the wooden armrest, instantly ruining the carefully composed look of the living room. My mother-in-law announced, with absolute authority, that my furniture was far too delicate—especially when … Read more