My MIL Gifted Me a Set of Rules Titled ‘How to Be a Good Wife for My Son’ for Our Wedding, While My Husband Got a Check

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I carefully placed it on the table, smiling sweetly like a dutiful wife as Dan walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

He looked at the plate, clearly confused. “Isn’t there… anything else?”

I shook my head, smiling brightly. “Just following the rules.

Plain eggs and toast! Want me to make another slice?”

Dan sighed, picking up the toast. “No… this is fine.”

I stood there watching him chew through the driest breakfast of his life, holding back a laugh.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

Later that afternoon, I made a big show of heading to the grocery store. I grabbed my reusable bags and marched out the door, making sure Dan saw me leaving, all by myself, just like the rules said.

When I got back, I hauled in every single bag on my own, even the heavy ones. Dan watched from the couch, clearly uncomfortable but saying nothing.

As I unpacked, his face scrunched up.

“Where’s the beer? Did you forget it?” he asked, frowning as he looked over the bags.

“Oh no, I didn’t forget,” I said cheerfully. “I just didn’t want you getting lazy.

Besides, sparkling water is good for you!”

I pulled out a six-pack of sparkling water, a big bottle of green juice, and a pack of quinoa, knowing pretty well he’d never touch any of them. Dan’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t argue. I could see he was starting to catch on that something wasn’t quite right, but I was just warming up.

After dinner, I moved on to the other rules in the letter.

I wiped down the counters, washed all the dishes, and tidied up the kitchen: well, sort of.

Instead of putting everything back where it belonged, I rearranged the entire kitchen. Plates went in the bathroom cupboard, utensils in the laundry room, and the toaster? I put that in the hall closet.

Dan wandered into the kitchen, looking around in confusion.

“Why is everything all over the place?”

I turned to him with a concerned frown. “I’m doing my best! Maybe I need to wipe the counters three times instead of two?”

He blinked at me, completely baffled, but he let it go.

The fun was just getting started.

When Dan’s friends came over a few days later for their usual football night, I made sure to really lean into Karen’s rule about modesty. I dug through my closet and found the most old-fashioned, conservative outfit I could: a full-length skirt, high-collared blouse, and a buttoned-up cardigan that would make a nun proud.

I looked like I was about to teach Sunday school in the 1800s.

As soon as Dan’s friends arrived, I stepped into the living room, carrying a tray of snacks. His buddies looked me up and down, confused but too polite to say anything.

Dan pulled me aside the first chance he got, whispering, “You know you don’t have to dress like that, right?”

I widened my eyes innocently.

“But your mom said I have to dress modestly. We wouldn’t want them getting the wrong idea about me, would we?”

Dan’s friends exchanged awkward glances, but I kept smiling sweetly. The look on Dan’s face was priceless; he was starting to realize that I was turning this whole “good wife” routine on its head, and he was stuck playing along.

Laundry day rolled around, and I followed the rules again, but with a little twist.

I washed all of Dan’s clothes together: whites, darks, colors, everything went into the same load. When I pulled them out, his once-crisp shirts had turned a lovely shade of pink, and his socks were either shrunk or mismatched.

Dan opened his drawer the next morning, pulling out one wrinkled pink shirt after another. “What happened to my clothes?

These socks don’t even match!”

I walked into the room with an apologetic look. “Oh no! I must’ve done something wrong.

I’ll try folding them in threes next time, just like the rules say.”

He groaned, shoving his mismatched socks on before heading to work, completely defeated. I couldn’t help but smile.

By the end of the week, Dan had had enough. He was trying to eat yet another bland breakfast when Karen showed up, her usual smile plastered on her face.

She took a seat at the table, looking around approvingly.

“Lucia, I’m so glad to see you following the rules! Isn’t life easier now?”

I laughed under my breath. “Oh, Karen, you have no idea.”

Dan slammed his fork down, startling both of us.

“Mom, we need to talk.”

Karen blinked, confused. “Talk about what?”

“These rules… they’re insane,” Dan said, his voice rising. “I’m miserable, Lucia’s miserable, and this is not how we’re going to live our lives.”

Karen looked taken aback.

“But, Dan, I just want to make sure you’re being taken care of! I thought this was how marriage was supposed to be.”

“No, Mom, it’s not,” Dan replied, his tone firm. “Lucia isn’t my servant, and I’m not a child who needs everything done for me.

These rules are stupid, outdated, and completely unrealistic. We’re building our own family with our own rules, and that doesn’t include treating my wife like a maid.”

“But Dan—”

“No, Mom.” Dan stood his ground. “You’re not going to come to us with these outdated views anymore.

I love Lucia for who she is, and we’ll run our marriage how we want, not by some list of ridiculous rules.”

Karen sat there, stunned into silence. She hadn’t expected Dan to push back like this.

I smiled, finally feeling a sense of relief. I grabbed the ornate box from the kitchen counter and handed it back to Karen, but this time, there was a little note tucked inside: “Thanks, but no thanks.”

Karen slowly left the room, her shoulders slumped.

She now understood that her influence over our marriage was over.

Soon afterward, I turned to Dan. He wrapped an arm around my waist, smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner.”

I leaned into him, my heart finally feeling lighter.

“Better late than never.”

And with that, we began building our marriage — free of lists, rules, and outdated expectations.

Source: amomama