I drove to the park I used to frequent before I got married, pulled out the bottle of wine I’d packed, and celebrated Thanksgiving solo. The house was dark and quiet when I returned later that evening. The next day, Mike cornered me in the kitchen.
“You can’t just walk out like that, Alyssa!” he protested. “You made me look like a fool.”
His face turned red, and he muttered something about how his parents had been “too hard” on me.
It was the closest thing to an apology I’d ever get from him, but it wasn’t enough. Not anymore. A week later, I served him divorce papers.
In the following weeks, Mike moved out, and the house, once filled with tension and unmet expectations, became a place of peace. Soon, I decorated for Christmas, treating myself to a tree decked out with ornaments I loved. And for the first time in years, I was looking forward to the holidays.
Because this time, they were mine, and I didn’t have to worry about anyone else’s opinions. My MIL Brought a Thanksgiving Turkey with My Photo on It — but I Got the Last Laugh
My mother-in-law, Gloria, specialized in passive-aggressive domination. Compliments that weren’t compliments, advice I didn’t ask for, and little gestures like “correcting” my cooking mid-dish or bringing “extras” to dinners I’d painstakingly planned.
This brings us to Thanksgiving. After years of living in cramped apartments, Mark and I had bought our first house and were hosting for the first time. It was my moment to shine.
Everything was perfect until Gloria arrived, balancing a covered dish like she was presenting the Olympic torch. “Hello, everyone!” she announced. “I’ve brought a turkey.
Made it extra special for you.”
Mark, my ever-diplomatic husband, placed a steadying hand on my shoulder. “It’s fine, babe,” he said, his tone soothing, though the flicker of panic in his eyes betrayed him. “We’ll just have two turkeys.
More leftovers, right?”
I turned to him slowly, letting my expression do all the talking. Traitor. To my astonishment, dinner went well.
But just as I started to believe I’d pulled it off, Gloria rose and clinked her glass for attention. “I thought it would be fun to add a little… personal touch to my turkey this year.”
Slowly, she removed the lid from her dish. Her perfectly roasted turkey was adorned with a laminated photo of my face, pinned dead center into the breast.Continue reading…
