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

When you marry the love of your life, you truly believe that you are entering a dream. Then, however, that fantasy rapidly becomes a nightmare when you’re given a set of guidelines on how to be a “good wife.” And that’s when my revenge started.

Growing up, I always thought marriage would be something different. I imagined Sunday mornings in bed, sharing secrets and laughing together—a loving and respectful companionship. But the weird thing about truth is that it may hit you square in the eyes.

I had just tied the knot with Dan. The modest, private wedding was all I could have imagined, and it was amazing. It also felt like a fairy tale for a moment. Dan was a good-natured and humorous man, and I really thought we had the same goals for our future together. That is, until his mother, Karen, gave me a present following the wedding.

While I was still feeling quite happy after the wedding, I was standing in our living room when Karen came over with her “special” gift.

“Lucia, this is for you. A small gesture to support you in your new position.” She smiled broadly, a smile that almost reached her eyes, and handed me an elaborate package.

A piece of paper, neatly folded, was inside the box. My mouth fell open when I unwrapped it. The words “How to Be a Good Wife for My Son” were bolded at the top.

I laughed at first. I assumed it was a joke. Perhaps Karen was making light of those antiquated misconceptions about marriage.

But my joy disappeared as I read on. It was a list, a real set of guidelines that, as Dan’s wife, I had to abide by.

I turned to face Dan, expecting him to be as confused as I was, but he was preoccupied with opening his own present. A draft. Not to mention a fat one. And me? I was given a rulebook.

Later that night, Dan came up to me grinning like a sheep. “You got the rules my mom gave you, didn’t you?” He questioned, not as an instruction manual for a life of servitude, but as a lighthearted suggestion.

“YEP… I did,” I answered, desperately attempting not to seem sarcastic.

Dan shifted in his seat, rubbing at the back of his neck. That’s the way things have to be right now, you know. Dating and marriage are not the same thing.”

I glanced at him, anticipating a grin or a comment that would turn the situation into a joke. However, he didn’t.

“Hold on… Are you serious? I asked, looking at him as though I didn’t know this was the man I had just got married to.

He gave a shrug. It’s simply the way things are. You know how Mom says it’s crucial to maintain order?

I bit my lip to contain a scathing remark. Maintain order. Is that how they now perceive me?

I went through the list again after Dan went to sleep, shaking from astonishment and rage. I was shocked by the boldness.

A sample of the madness I was expected to follow is this:

You need to be ready and make Dan a hot breakfast at six in the morning. Just keep in mind that he just enjoys plain eggs and toast—no vegetables, milk, or butter. To ensure that the toast is perfectly golden brown, use a blue dish for serving—the green one will make him less hungry.

Make all of your own grocery purchases. Since the store is really not a place for men, Dan despises it. Always, but not excessively, purchase his preferred beer. For football nights, he should have just the right amount, but not too much that it makes him lazy. Oh, and remember that asking for assistance is considered unladylike, so keep everything inside of you.

Make sure the kitchen is immaculate after supper before Dan leaves the dining room. Men need to step away from the table and into a spotless environment; they shouldn’t have to see any mess. Dan is sensitive to crumbs, so always remember to wipe the counters twice and stack the plates according to size.

When Dan’s buddies visit, you should always wear conservative clothing. We don’t want them to believe you’re not the “right kind of wife” or that you’re too “modern.” A good woman always has a high neckline and never wears anything above the knee. If you do anything more, you risk embarrassing Dan in front of his friends.”

Ensure that Dan is never required to do his laundry. A good wife always has wrinkle-free socks and clean, pressed garments ready. Additionally, since Dan like it that way, fold them in threes rather than twos. He shouldn’t ever have to cope with a wrinkled shirt or choose mismatched socks. If he does, it is a bad reflection on you.

I was simmering with anger by the time I had done reading. This wasn’t just some antiquated counsel; rather, it was a fully formed expectation that I should satisfy Dan’s every need as though I had no other duty.

The worst aspect, too? Dan didn’t mind at all. When I brought up the restrictions, he hadn’t even batted an eyelid.

Even though I felt helpless, I wasn’t going to give up and allow them get away with this. I would play along, but only on my terms, if they wanted to play this game.

I followed Karen’s instructions and woke up at precisely six in the morning after reading her list. I got out of bed, applied a heavy makeup routine, and changed into a stylish clothing.

I laughed softly to myself as I looked at myself in the mirror and realized how absurd everything was. I would, however, play this part with a twist if Karen asked me to.

I went downstairs and fixed breakfast, which was eggs and simple toast, just like the instructions indicated. I didn’t stop there, though. I selected the thinnest piece of toast and placed an unsalted boiled egg onto Dan’s massive blue plate. The enormous platter gave the scant food an absurd appearance.

Dan came into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes, and I carefully set it on the table, grinning like a devoted wife.

Looked at the plate, obviously perplexed. “Isn’t there… anything else?”

I gave a bright smile and shook my head. “Just abiding by the regulations. Toast and plain eggs! Would you like another piece from me?”

With a groan, Dan picked up the toast. “No… this is fine.”

I suppressed a laugh as I watched him gnaw on the driest breakfast of his life. Oh, that was going to be enjoyable.

I went to the grocery shop and made a great show of it later that afternoon. As per the instructions, I made sure Dan saw me go alone, grabbing my reusable bags before I marched out the door.

I carried in every single bag—even the heavier ones—by myself when I got back. Dan remained silent while watching from the couch, obviously uncomfortable. His face twisted as I unpacked.

“Where’s the beer going? “Did you forget it?” he questioned, scowling as he examined the luggage.

“Oh my goodness, no, I didn’t forget,” I exclaimed. “I simply didn’t want you to become indolent. Moreover, drinking sparkling water is healthful.”

I took out a large bottle of green juice, a box of quinoa, and a six-pack of sparkling water, all of which I knew he would never touch. Dan didn’t argue, but his eyes furrowed. Though I was only getting warmed up, I could tell he was beginning to realize that something wasn’t quite right.

I read the other regulations in the letter after dinner. I, sort of, cleaned the kitchen, wiped down the counters, and washed all the dishes.

I moved everything throughout the entire kitchen, not just the stuff that belonged there. Dishes went in the kitchen cabinet, cutlery in the utility room, and toast in the bathroom cabinet? That is in the hallway closet.

Dan entered the kitchen and looked around, perplexed. “Why is everything all over the place?”

I turned and frowned at him in concern. “I’m doing my hardest! Perhaps I should wipe the counters three times as opposed to just twice.”

He gave me a confused blink, but he ignored it. The good times were only getting begun.

A few days later, Dan’s pals came over for their regular football night, and I made sure to fully embrace Karen’s rule regarding modesty. I went through my closet and pulled out the most traditional, conservative dress I could find: a cardigan that was buttoned up, a top with a high collar, and a full-length skirt that would have made a nun proud.

I appeared to be preparing to instruct Sunday school in the era of the 1800s.

Dan’s pals came, and I entered the living room with a platter of refreshments in tow. His friends gave me a sidelong glance, perplexed but too gracious to comment.

The first time he got, Dan grabbed me aside and said in a whisper, “You know you don’t have to dress like that, right?”

My eyes innocently widened. “But your mother insisted that I wear modest clothing. Wouldn’t we want people to have the incorrect impression of me?

Dan’s pals looked at each other awkwardly, but I just smiled warmly. Dan’s expression was priceless; he was beginning to see that I was upending the whole “good wife” trope, and he was forced to comply.

When laundry day arrived, I once again adhered to the guidelines, albeit slightly differently. I laundered all of Dan’s clothes in one load, including the colors, darks, and whites. His once-crisp shirts had become a pretty pink when I brought them out, and his socks were either mismatched or had shrunk.

The following morning, Dan pulled out one crumpled pink shirt after another from his drawer. “Whatever became to my clothes? Not even these socks match!”

I entered the room wearing an expression of regret. “Oh no! I must have made a mistake. Next time, I’ll attempt folding them in threes like the regulations state.”

He was so disheartened that he sighed and threw on his mismatched socks before going to work. I couldn’t resist grinning.

Dan was done by the end of the week. When Karen appeared, her trademark smile firmly fixed on her face, he was attempting to consume another tasteless meal. With a nod of approval, she sat down at the table.

“Lucia, I’m very happy to see you abiding by the guidelines! Isn’t it simpler now?

I chuckled to myself. “Oh, Karen, you have no idea.”

Dan surprised us both by slamming his fork down. “Mom, we need to talk.”

Bewildered, Karen blinked. “Talk about what?”

“These rules are ridiculous,” Dan exclaimed, raising his voice. “I’m miserable, Lucia’s miserable, and this is not how we’re going to live our lives.”

Karen appeared surprised. But Dan, I simply want to make sure that everything is okay with you! I believed that this was the intended dynamic of marriage.”

“No, Mom, it’s not,” Dan firmly retorted. I’m not a child who needs everything done for me, and Lucia isn’t my servant. These regulations are ridiculous, out of date, and wholly fictitious. Treating my wife like a housekeeper is not part of the guidelines we’re setting for our new family.”

“But Dan—”

“No, Mom.” Dan didn’t back down. You will no longer approach us with these antiquated viewpoints. I adore Lucia just as she is, and our marriage will be governed by our desires rather than by a silly set of laws.”

Stunned into silence, Karen sat there. She wasn’t prepared for Dan to respond in this way.

I grinned, at last experiencing some relief. Karen accepted the elaborate box back from me, but this time there was a small letter inside that said, “Thanks, but no thanks.”

With her shoulders hunched, Karen slowly departed the room. She realized now that she had lost her power over our union.

Not long afterward, I looked up at Dan. He put an arm around my waist and grinned pitifully. “I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner.”

At last, my heart began to feel lighter as I leaned against him. “Better late than never.”

With that, we started to create our marriage without guidelines, restrictions, or out-of-date expectations.