Real Life Mother-in-Law Stories That Will Make You Want to Stay Single

She’s Not My Responsibility

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This morning I got a call from a funeral home letting me know that my mother-in-law’s body had been picked up, and they wanted to discuss the obituary as well as inquire about payment. There was just one problem. My mother-in-law is still very much alive and she certainly wouldn’t have been sent to a funeral home four or five hours away from where she lives if she wasn’t. I tell them they have the wrong number, even though they used my maiden name—I have an extremely rare maiden name—and I previously lived in that town. The young man on the phone was apologetic and wished me a good day. Not even five minutes later, the number calls me again.

This time it’s a woman asking me if I was the daughter-in-law of my ex mother-in-law. I said, “Not in the last 10 years.” Turns out, my witch of an ex-mother-in-law, who honestly was a practicing witch but also just a witch of a woman, had known she was dying. So she decided to get a bizarre revenge. As one final “screw you,” she thought she would try to stick me with her funeral costs. Of course there’s no legal recourse here, even though our state has that weird law where you legally have to take care of your parents if they aren’t able to themselves.

But she’s not my mother and I was never legally married to her son thanks to his shady officiant friend not filing our marriage license. From what I can gather, she pre-planned her funeral and told the funeral home that I was currently her daughter-in-law (again, I’m not) and would be covering all funeral costs. They apparently believed her, probably because she plays the victim so easily, and thought I helped her make the plans. This is exactly what she did when I lived with her and my ex.

I busted my butt working full time while she did nothing but spend all of her money at thrift stores and he worked 15-20 hours a week minimum wage. Now they’re holding a body and have no idea what to do with it as they don’t have contact information for my ex, and nor do I. I suggested they call the nursing home. But yeah, happy Friday to me. Story credit: Reddit / ItsKaragan

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