I always took pride in my youthful spirit, viewing age as just a number. On a sweltering summer day at my son’s mansion, my resilience was tested.
My son’s estate, a symbol of his hard work, was grand yet shadowed by my daughter-in-law, Karen. She changed after marrying my son, becoming arrogant, believing she ruled over everyone, with my son’s silent encouragement.
One hot day, I wore my favorite swimsuit, ready to enjoy the pool. Karen, spotting me, sneered, “Old lady, no way you’re wearing that. Hide your wrinkles!” Her words cut deep. I pretended to sunbathe, hiding my tears, but resolved to not let her humiliate me.
I planned my move carefully, knowing retaliating in anger wouldn’t work. Observing Karen’s routines, I waited for the perfect moment, which came during her book club meeting. Serving refreshments, I casually mentioned, “Karen, I hope your charity event goes well.”
Then, I produced an album of her pre-marriage photos. Her friends’ interest piqued, and Karen flushed with embarrassment. “Mary, this is inappropriate,” she hissed. I smiled, “We all come from humble beginnings.”
The mood shifted; Karen’s friends saw her differently. Later, my son, learning of the incident, understood my pain. Karen became more subdued, her arrogance dimmed. My son ensured such behavior wouldn’t repeat.
