(Sometimes on a Friday night, when my mother-in-law is on her way home, we decide to get from a local pizza place from dinner. I’m always the one to call it in, unless I’m not home, obviously. My mother-in-law says she wants a chicken cheesesteak wrap, and my husband and I decide to share a pizza. I call the order in and they ask if we want tomato and lettuce on the cheesesteak. I say yes because the last time she got a wrap she was upset because it had no lettuce on it. The following happens when we sit down to eat at home:)

Mother-In-Law: “You guys got pizza? [Husband], I said I would have eaten pizza.”

(This is the same woman who never wants pizza)

Me: “Do you want the pizza? I’ll eat the wrap.”

Mother-In-Law: “No, I’m hungry.” *unwraps the wrap* “Why does this have lettuce and tomato on it? I never get tomato.”

Husband: “I’m not eating.”

(He slid his paper plate across the table at his mother and went into the bathroom. I sat there and ate my pizza. He finally came back and ate. After dinner, I went upstairs and thought how grateful I was that I’d be visiting my friend in Tennessee for a couple of weeks, and I wondered how they’d get along without the house “secretary” to call in their orders. Then again, I wouldn’t put it past them to call me in Tennessee to call the stupid order in. They never have before, but hey, there’s a first time for everything.)

Many years after the fact, my husband related to me and his parents a story of his first and only encounter with law enforcement.

When he was fourteen, he did one of those stupid things under peer pressure that was considered a badge of honor back then: driving a motorbike without a license, or indeed without being the appropriate age to get one. Of course, he was stopped and taken to the police station. As a minor, his parents were to be called, but there was an unofficial, alternative punishment: a couple of whacks across the buttock of the child in question. Different times, back then. It was not legal, of course, but deemed appropriate.

Given the choice, my husband without hesitation chose the alternative. The friendly police sergeant opened a drawer and gave him a choice of the tool. There was a colorful collection of batons of various materials, from wooden, to rubber, to plastic. My husband chose the least impressive, small one. The policeman said okay, grabbed the stick… and expanded it to working length. Yes, it was the first model of telescopic baton in use, and according to my husband, it stung.

Still, my husband maintains, that it was much better than what his father would have done to him, had he known about his ride without a license.

“You bet I would,” said my father-in-law, when my husband finished. “In fact, I still should!” and jokingly undid his belt.

My husband and I went away for a weekend, so we asked his 17-year-old brother to check in on our dog and two cats in our absence. He agreed and off we went on our little vacation. When we returned, I noticed the bed had been stripped. I asked why and he said it was because one of the cats sprayed the bed. They’d never done it before, but I chalked it up to a kitty protesting our absence.

After that, I kept finding that things were not as I remembered them. I couldn’t explain what was happening but certain things just seemed… off.

I was taking a shower one day when, without looking, I reached for my shampoo only to find it on another shelf. My husband suggested that maybe I had moved it without thinking.

Another day, I went to make a sandwich but the lunch meat was gone. I knew I’d just bought a new pack two days before, so I asked my husband if he had eaten it. I told him my feelings about things around the house but he brushed them off, saying I must not be remembering things correctly.

Still another time, my husband and I were watching a movie before leaving for some errands. When we came home that night, a different channel was on. He started to believe something was off, so we started double checking that all the doors and windows were locked before we left the house.  

One night, my husband’s brother came over for dinner and brought his girlfriend — without asking, but that’s another annoyance.

After dinner, we were sitting outside when his girlfriend excused herself to use the toilet. I watched her walk inside and up the stairs, and then heard the bathroom door close, shortly followed by the sound of the toilet flushing.

She came back downstairs and rejoined us. I told my husband’s brother and his girlfriend that they would have to leave and would not be welcomed back for a long time.

He asked why and I replied, “The cat peed on the bed?” The girl turned deep red and stomped to the car, followed quietly by her boyfriend.

My husband was confused and started getting mad at me for being so rude. I pointed out that the girl had known exactly where the toilet was, despite not being given a tour or directions, and I started listing all the weird things that had happened since our vacation.

My husband called his brother, who confessed that he and his lady friend had been using our house as a lovenest while we were out.

We had our locks changed and refused to give a spare key to anyone. When his mother asked why she wasn’t getting a key, I told her what her son had done. This was over a year ago and I think he’s still mad at me.

(This takes place on my cousin’s wedding day. She is marrying a very nice man whose family is strictly religious; as such, they are very against alcohol consumption. During the reception, my cousin is speaking to her new sister-in-law, drink in hand. She is pouring her heart out about her father’s suicide earlier in the year and how devastated she is that he couldn’t walk her down the aisle.)

Sister-In-Law: *reaching out and wrenching the glass of champagne from my cousin’s hand* “Well, sweetie, maybe if you didn’t drink so much, these things wouldn’t happen to you. Did you ever think that this is God’s way of punishing you for your sins?”

(We quickly separated the two, got my cousin a new drink, and fawned over her until she could enjoy her wedding day again. It’s now years later and it still boils my blood.)

(My fiancé and I recently got engaged. We’ve just arrived at his parents’ house. This is not the first time I’ve met his parents, thankfully, but it is the first time I have visited them since the engagement. On walking in the front door, my fiancé throws his arm around me and says to his parents:)

Fiancé: “She followed me home! Can I keep her?”

His Dad: “Only if you promise to take care of her. I’m not going to be the one to clean up after her.”

(I love their strange sense of humor!)