Her, my mother-in-law

Her, my mother-in-law

I love my mother-in-law. She loves me, too, or at least I think she does. I dream about her each night.

Did you hear how nicely she talked to me last Saturday while I was pounding the almond branches with a stick to get the almonds off the almond tree?

We had rows of almond trees on the side of the hill that gave us the best fruit anyone could wish for. And I, a good little puppy, was happily working down there watching over them, under the eye of the … boss woman of my heart.

“Wretched creature,” she said to me. “What type of brain did God give you? Don't hit the stick from the inside to the outside, you idiot! How are those almonds going to land on the tarp? Oh my God, we'll still be here until night!"

“Sorry, Mom. Why don't you just buy that special machine so we won't have to waste time knocking almonds off the trees with sticks? The Government will even pay half of it."

“Lazy bum!” she yelled. “Think I'm throwing money around? Should I break both the tractor and the machine? Is there another intelligent one like you that your mother has produced? Do you want me to lose everything?"

“Okay, Mom. Sorry again for being such a moron. Sometimes my brain doesn't function properly."

She continued to scold me. I looked the other way, and a tear ran down my cheek.

Why is she so mean to me?

Is it because she thinks the other two sons-in-law of hers are devils and ignore her?

Or is it because I feel sorry for her, and she vents all of her anger and bitterness towards me?

I look at the little donkey over in the yard and the way it's wagging its lip and mocking me, and my blood starts boiling.

That one she talks to, pets, and treats like royalty.

And me? Anytime I go into the village to help her, all she makes for me is soup and zucchini.

And besides, what do I owe her?

I rent an apartment with my wife, I work all day to barely survive, and to eventually build a small house. Not a penny from anyone.

And when I should be resting, I run all over the place to the village to help her.

And what do I get in return?

Just constant complaining, nagging, and scolding.

And sometimes – I'll admit — a slice of almond pie.

My wife knows what I'm going through. However, she is stuck in a bad situation.

She watches her mother sit alone and helpless after her husband died, and she feels sorry for her.

“She wasn't always like this," she says. "Loneliness ate away at her. But you're right. What should I do? No one else takes care of her. Everyone wants money and large meals from her during the holidays."

Unfortunately, she became ill the previous day.

Her heart began beating irregularly, and the doctor said her heart had grown large.

She has to stay out of the cold and rest as much as possible.

Poor woman …

Now you understand how I feel.

Like a cucumber complaining.

It's alright.

The nightmares will go away in due time.