She Got My Mother-in-Law Back on Her Feet—Yet I’m Furious Because I Didn’t Weed the Vegetable Beds — “What are you doing here?” Standing in the middle of the swan-shaped flower beds, my mother-in-law shouted, “There’s never been such disgrace here before! I had seven children—never a single weed!” Her shriek drew the neighbours, who clung to the fence like crows and immediately dissected everything they heard. Seeing her audience, my mother-in-law took great pleasure in performing. I stood, speechless, as she went on. At last, worn out from shouting, she drew a breath and said loudly enough for all the neighbours to hear: I didn’t say a word. I walked calmly past my mother-in-law, holding my child even closer. Once inside, I divided up, in a special box, everything my mother-in-law was to take that evening and the next morning. Without folding anything, I tossed my son’s things and mine into a bag. I left without saying a word. Three days later, my mother-in-law called: “What did you do with all those things the professor gave her? I asked the neighbour to buy a few, but she said one jar is very expensive. The ones with foreign labels, well, we don’t use those or exchange them. So what am I to do? You left, offended for some reason, and here I am, about to meet my maker!” I didn’t reply. I turned off my phone and took out the SIM card. That’s it. I can’t go on—I have no physical or emotional strength left. A year ago, just before my son was born, my husband lost control of his car on an icy road. I vaguely remember saying goodbye for the last time, the ambulance taking him away, and waking up the next morning as a new mother… I didn’t care about anything. The world felt empty and pointless without my beloved husband. I nursed and rocked my son like clockwork, because that’s what I was told to do. A phone call snapped me out of my stupor. “Your mother-in-law is in bad shape. Apparently, she won’t last much longer.” I made my decision at once: after settling things, I sold my flat in London. I invested some of the money into building a home, so my son will have something of his own when he grows up. And I went to save my mother-in-law. This past year, I haven’t really lived—I’ve just existed. I had no time for sleep, caring for both my mother-in-law and my baby son. The baby was restless, and my mother-in-law required round-the-clock care. At least I had the money. I called in the best specialists from all over the UK; I bought every medication prescribed. Eventually, my mother-in-law returned to normal life. At first, I wheeled her through the house, then around the garden. By the end, she was strong enough to walk—on her own—as if nothing had happened… I don’t want to know her now, or hear from her ever again. Let her work out everything she needs for her recovery herself. At least I was wise enough not to spend all the money on her recovery. My son and I moved to our new flat. I never imagined it would end like this. I wanted to be close with my husband’s family, since I am an orphan myself. But now it’s just me. I need to teach my son: not everyone deserves kindness. Some people care more about a tidy vegetable patch.

I managed to get my mother-in-law back on her feet. But honestly, Im fuming because I didnt get around to weeding the vegetable patch.

What on earth do you think youre doing? my mother-in-law shrieked, standing smack in the middle of the flower beds as if she were the warden of the Queens gardens. Never in my life have I seen such disgrace! And dont hide behind that childwhen I had my seven, I didnt have a single weed!

Naturally, her screech brought every neighbour running. They clung to the garden fence like a flock of nosy crows and, as youd expect, dissected every syllable they overheard. Seeing shed drawn an audience, my mother-in-law only grew more theatrical. Goodness knows what she all said; I just stood there, dumbstruck. Finally, out of steam, she drew in a hefty breath so the neighbours could enjoy every word:

I didnt say a thing.

I simply walked past her, clutching my little boy a bit closer. Back inside, I methodically packed everything she needed into a special box for the evening and the next morning. Not bothering to fold anything, I chucked my sons and my things into a bag. Off we went, without so much as a word to her.

Three days later, she rang:

What on earth did you do with all those things that the professor gave me? she demanded. I asked Mrs. Thompson next door to try buying some, but she complained that one of the jars cost a fortune. And some have labels in foreign languages they say those are a no-go around here, and wont let me trade them in. So what am I supposed to do? You left, in a strop, for some reason, and now Im to just shuffle off this mortal coil alone?

I said nothing. I turned off the phone and yanked out the SIM card. That was it for me. I just couldnt go another step physically or mentally.

A year ago, just before my son was born, my husband lost control of his car on an icy lane. The memorys a blur: saying goodbye to him for the last time, the ambulance, then the next morning I became a mother… Nothing mattered. The world around me just fizzled out without my darling husband. I fed and rocked our son entirely on autopilot, because everyone said I must.

My stupor was broken by a phone call.

Your mother-in-laws in a bad way. Looks like she wont be long for this world now her sons gone.

I didnt hesitate. I sold my London flat quicker than you can say under offer. I put part of the money into building a place of our own so my boy would have something when he grew up. And I moved in with my mother-in-law. To save her.

This year, I havent lived Ive existed.

Between looking after her and minding my young son, sleep was but a rumour. The boy was fractious, and the mother-in-law needed round-the-clock attention.

Thank heavens I had money. I brought in the best doctors I could find, right across the country, coaxing them to visit and prod her. I bought everything they prescribed. Eventually, she rallied. At first, I wheeled her around the lounge, then the garden. By the end, she was striding about on her own two legs and then

Honestly, I never want to see or hear from her again. Let her sort out her own business from now on. At least Id had the sense not to spend every last penny on her care. My son and I moved into a new flat. It wasnt at all what Id pictured.

I used to dream of living out my days with my husbands mother Im an orphan myself, after all. But now? Well, here I am. The one lesson I plan to teach my son: not everyone deserves kindness. Some people only care about whether their vegetable patch is free of weeds.