It really was a glorious day. The scent of new-mown grass blended with the perfume of white roses as the bride and groom spoke their vows in the shade of the old gazebo. As mother of the groom, I felt entitled to be a little weepy. My husband squeezed my hand, the music lifted, and the sun poured down like butterscotch…uh-oh, wait a minute. Like a hammer to the kneecaps, the thought hit me: I was now a mother-in-law. Mother. In. Law. Read: gorgon, dragon, harridan, witch, radioactive thermonuclear bitch from hell. … Back to Article
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