Seven days away was all it took for my MIL to take over my house and my family. She thought she’d won, but I knew exactly how to remind her who’s really in charge.
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I always told myself I was a happy woman. I had a cozy home, a son I adored down to every freckle on his nose, and a husband with whom even arguing was somehow sweet.
We had our own little kingdom — a bit chaotic, but warm.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Jason was our eight-year-old expert on football and dinosaurs.
Kyle, my husband, couldn’t even screw in a lightbulb properly, but every morning he made me an omelet and fresh-squeezed orange juice.
And me? I was the engine that kept everything running.
