My husband’s family had the misconception that I was their maid for Easter, but they were unaware that I had concealed a small surprise among the chocolate bunnies. What took place after that continues to make me laugh. To be honest, I’ve never been the type of person who would vent about family issues on the internet.
No, I do not engage in activities such as subtweeting, posting cryptic status updates on Facebook, or airing dirty laundry for the entire world to see. But what took place over the Easter holiday this past year was too scrumptious and too poetic for me to keep to myself. Rachel is my name, I am 35 years old, and I am currently employed as a marketing director for a company that is of a medium size.
For the past three years, I have been married to Caleb, and in the majority of ways, those three years have been filled with happiness. Funny, kind, encouraging, and blessedly competent with home duties, Caleb is the kind of man I once thought only existed in romantic comedies. He is the kind of man who supports me.
It is nothing short of a miracle that the man is able to load a dishwasher in the correct manner. If you have ever lived with someone who is unable to do so, you will understand that this is a significant accomplishment. The bond that we share is strong.
He has an issue with his family. I would really appreciate it if you could bring me another mimosa while you are awake, Rachel. During the previous month, the voice of my mother-in-law drifted absentmindedly across our terrace.
She had been sitting in her padded lounge chair for more than an hour without moving at all. Caleb’s mother, Marjorie, is pictured here. Her requests are always made with a sense of entitlement that is so thick that they could be bottled up.
She is the reigning queen of passive-aggressive requests. Additionally, Vanessa, Claudia, and Brittany, who are Caleb’s sisters, are standing on either side of her, acting as a trio of attendants. Almost immediately, it became abundantly evident that I was not their ideal choice for Caleb.
The actions they take, the tone they use, and the “compliments” they offer all tell volumes, even though they have never directly stated it. It was once Vanessa who cooed at me across the dinner table, “Oh Rachel, you are so bold to wear something that fitted.” She was looking at my completely plain dress as if I had walked in wearing feathers and sparkles. The food that I consume is something that Claudia enjoys analyzing in great detail.
She purrs, “Good for you, not worrying about calories,” as if I have just stated that I intend to gain twenty pounds on purpose. This happens whenever I allow myself to even come close to dessert. Additionally, Brittany, the youngest of the three, has a tendency to be sanctimonious.
She is constantly reminding me of their “strong family traditions” and subtly implying that I might not be able to meet up to their standards. But what about Easter? This year’s winner was Easter.
While Claudia’s three children were climbing over the cushions of my freshly dusted couch, she made the announcement three weeks before the holiday. “Since you and Caleb do not yet have children,” she said, “it only makes sense for you to organize the Easter Egg Hunt this year.”
I should clarify that when she said “organize,” she did not mean dumping a few plastic eggs onto the grass. On the contrary, she anticipated a full-fledged show, complete with scavenger hunt clues, costumes, and even the hiring of a bunny mascot—of course, with my own money.
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