My mother-in-law gave me a rulebook on how to be a "Good wife"—so I made her regret it

When I married Dan, I thought I was stepping into a life of love and partnership. Our wedding was perfect—intimate and filled with promises for the future. But my mother-in-law, Karen, had other plans for me.

While my husband received a generous check as a wedding gift, I was given something quite different—a set of detailed rules on how to be a "good wife" to her son.

At first, I thought it was a joke. Inside an ornate box, I found a folded paper with a bold title: *"How to Be a Good Wife to My Son."* I expected humorous or sentimental advice, but my smile quickly faded.

The rules included ridiculous instructions such as:

- Waking up at 6 AM fully dressed and made up to prepare Dan’s breakfast, which had to be plain eggs and toast.

- Doing all the grocery shopping alone because supermarkets were "no place for a man."

- Dressing modestly whenever Dan’s friends were around—nothing above the knee, no low necklines—so he wouldn’t feel "embarrassed."

- Keeping the house spotless and ensuring Dan never had to worry about chores like laundry.

That night, when I questioned Dan about the absurd gift, he just shrugged and said, "Well, that’s how it has to be now. Married life is different from dating."

That was the final straw. I could have exploded and confronted them both right then and there, but I decided to do something much better—I would follow the rules to the letter… but in my own way.

The next morning, I woke up at exactly 6 AM, dressed like the perfect housewife, and went to prepare Dan’s breakfast. But instead of a hearty meal, I served him *a single tiny piece of toast and an unseasoned boiled egg* on the largest plate I could find. When Dan saw it, he frowned.

"Is this all?" he asked, chewing on the dry food.

"Just following the rules," I replied sweetly.

In the afternoon, I went grocery shopping alone, as instructed. When I returned, I carried all the heavy bags myself, ignoring Dan’s uncomfortable glance from the couch. And as a final touch, I didn’t buy any beer—I replaced it with sparkling water and green juice.

Dan looked confused.

"Where’s the beer?"

"Oh, I thought it was best not to get any. Your mom said too much alcohol makes you lazy. Besides, sparkling water is much healthier!"

His expression was priceless.

When Dan’s friends came over to watch football, I followed the modesty rule to perfection. I wore a long skirt, a high-necked blouse, and a buttoned-up cardigan. I looked like a 19th-century schoolteacher.

As I entered the living room with a tray of snacks, I noticed the confused glances from Dan’s friends. At one point, he pulled me aside and whispered:

"You don’t have to dress like this, you know."

"But your mom said I have to be modest. We wouldn’t want to give the wrong impression, right?"

Dan’s friends exchanged awkward looks, sensing that something was off. And Dan… well, he was starting to catch on to my game.

I followed all the laundry rules—but with a special touch. I washed all his clothes together without separating the colors. When they came out of the machine, his white shirts had turned pink, and his socks had shrunk and mismatched.

The next morning, he opened his drawer and gasped.

"What happened to my clothes? My shirts are all pink!"

"Oh no! I must have done something wrong. Maybe I need to fold them into thirds, like the rule says."

Dan couldn’t hide his frustration anymore. But I wasn’t done yet.

After a few days of my carefully planned nightmare, Karen came to visit. She sat at the table, looking pleased, and smiled as she watched me following the rules.

"Lucia, I’m so happy to see you learning how to be a good wife!"

That was the last straw for Dan. He dropped his fork loudly onto his plate and turned to his mother.

"Mom, we need to talk."

Karen blinked in surprise.

"About what?"

"These rules… they’re ridiculous. I’m miserable, Lucia’s miserable, and this isn’t a healthy marriage."

Karen tried to argue, saying she only wanted to make sure he was well taken care of. But Dan interrupted her.

"Lucia is not my servant, and I’m not a child. We’re going to live our marriage our own way, without these outdated rules."

Karen was stunned. I picked up the ornate box and handed it back to her, but this time with a note inside: "Thanks, but no thanks."

She left without saying a word, finally realizing she would no longer control our marriage.

Dan looked at me with a guilty smile.

"I’m sorry I didn’t see this sooner."

"Better late than never," I said, laughing.

And that’s how we started our married life—on our terms, without absurd rules and outdated expectations.