“Mom, You Missed a Spot,” Yelled the Daughter-in-Law from the Bedroom. Linda Was Scrubbing the Floors While Her Daughter-in-Law Painted Her Nails

Linda had always been a diligent woman. At 58, she still had the energy and determination of someone half her age. She had moved in with her son John and his wife, Emily, after her husband passed away. It was supposed to be a temporary arrangement, but months had turned into years. Linda didn’t mind; she loved her son and wanted to help out as much as she could.

It was a sunny Tuesday morning, and Linda was on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor. She had already vacuumed the living room and dusted the shelves. Emily, her daughter-in-law, was in her bedroom painting her nails, a ritual she indulged in almost daily.

“Mom, you missed a spot!” Emily’s voice pierced through the silence, echoing from the bedroom.

Linda sighed but didn’t respond. She knew better than to argue. Emily had a sharp tongue and a knack for making Linda feel small. It wasn’t always like this. When John and Emily first got married, Emily was sweet and considerate. But as time went on, her true colors began to show.

John was at work, as usual. He worked long hours at a law firm downtown, leaving early in the morning and returning late at night. Linda often wondered if he noticed the tension between his wife and his mother. If he did, he never mentioned it.

Linda finished scrubbing the kitchen floor and moved on to the bathroom. She could hear Emily talking on the phone, her voice dripping with disdain as she gossiped about Linda to one of her friends.

“She’s so old-fashioned,” Emily said. “I mean, who scrubs floors on their hands and knees anymore? It’s pathetic.”

Linda’s heart sank. She had always prided herself on keeping a clean home, but it seemed nothing she did was ever good enough for Emily. She tried to push the hurt feelings aside and focus on her work.

By the time she finished cleaning the entire house, it was nearly noon. Linda decided to take a break and make herself a cup of tea. She sat down at the kitchen table, her hands trembling slightly as she lifted the cup to her lips.

Just then, Emily walked into the kitchen, her freshly painted nails glistening in the sunlight.

“Did you even clean the bathroom?” Emily asked, her tone accusatory.

“Yes, I did,” Linda replied quietly.

“Well, it doesn’t look like it,” Emily snapped. “You really need to step up your game if you’re going to live here rent-free.”

Linda felt a lump form in her throat. She wanted to defend herself, to tell Emily that she was doing her best, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she nodded meekly and looked down at her tea.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of chores and harsh words. By the time John came home, Linda was exhausted both physically and emotionally. She hoped he would notice her distress, but he seemed preoccupied with work.

“How was your day?” John asked as he sat down at the dinner table.

“It was fine,” Linda lied.

Emily shot her a smug look from across the table. “Mom did some cleaning today,” she said sweetly. “But I think she missed a few spots.”

John chuckled, oblivious to the underlying tension. “Well, I’m sure she did her best.”

Linda forced a smile, but inside she felt like crying. She excused herself from the table and went to her room, closing the door behind her. She sat on the edge of her bed and let the tears flow freely.

She knew she couldn’t go on like this forever. The constant criticism and lack of appreciation were taking their toll. But for now, she had no other options. She would have to endure it for as long as she could.

As she lay down to sleep that night, Linda couldn’t help but wonder if things would ever get better. Deep down, she feared they wouldn’t.