Daughter-in-Law Slapped Me, Then Panicked When Money Stopped

When I was buying my son his wedding car, I casually mentioned, to bargain a little, that the passenger seat felt a bit cramped, and that I wanted to check out a few more dealerships to compare.

But my daughter-in-law suddenly snapped, threw her iced americano all over me, and then slapped me twice, backhanded.

"So you're one of those 'green tea' mothers-in-law from the internet, fighting me for my passenger seatthat's why you care so much!"

"That passenger seat is for my ninety-pound self, and it's not for a fat widow like you to nitpick over."

I was shivering from the cold, my ears ringing from the slaps.

Instinctively I looked to my son, hoping he'd say something.

But my son ignored the fact that I'd just been hit and only blew tenderly on his wife's hand.

Then he looked at me, annoyed.

"I know you don't have a man, so you've been pinning your feelings on me, but I'm your son, not your husband."

"The passenger seat is the other half of a man's bed. Even if you're his own mother, you don't get to sit there."

I gave a cold laugh and said, "Good, good, good."

"I won't sit in your passenger seatand don't you two dare reach into my wallet either!"

One:

To squeeze out a better deal on the car.

My son, Morton Cobb, and I had agreed to put on a show for the salesperson. I would pretend to be picky about the car, and he would act like I'd talked him around and then pretend to leave.

So I walked a circle around the car and picked out a small, fixable flaw in this otherwise very satisfactory vehicle.

"The passenger seat in this car is a bit cramped. I heard there's a brand whose passenger seat"

I didn't get to finish.

My daughter-in-law, Georgette Sawyer, dumped the iced americano she'd taken a few sips of straight over my head. The cold made me flinch, and before I could get a word out, Georgette slapped me twice, once on each cheek.

"You may be Morton's mother, but from now on you're an outsider to our little family."

"I brought you along to look at cars because you're the one paying. You're an ATM that spits out gold coinsso what makes you think you get to be picky?"

"Everyone knows the passenger seat is the wife's own seat. Saying something like that, you're just trying to compete with me, going toe to toe with me!"

"You shameless, filthy widow!"

My head was buzzing; I couldn't tell if it was from the anger or from being hit.

Morton was startled by the slaps too.

But while everyone calls him the perfect devoted husband, he's no devoted son.

So he immediately blew tenderly on Georgette's hand, all concern.

"Don't be upset, baby. Only you get to sit in the passenger seat. No one else can."

I wanted to blow up.

But I knew young people these days think differently than we do, especially now that everyone online is stirring up mother-in-law and daughter-in-law conflicts. So as angry as I was, I still couldn't help but explain.

"I only wanted to help you two get a better deal. I have my own car. I never planned to sit in Morton's passenger seat."

It was the first time the salesperson had run into anything like this.

She stood there stunned for a while, and once she came to her senses she hurried over to smooth things over, saying she'd go find her manager to apply for the biggest discount she could get me, and then she fled the office as if she were running for her life.

As soon as the salesperson left, Georgette's parents, Matthew and Celeste, gave a snide little smile.

"You'd throw away every scrap of dignity for a little discount?"

"If I'd known you were this kind of person, I'd never have agreed to let my daughter marry you."

"That slap was well deserved. It knocks the cheapness out of him. I couldn't stand it if he stayed this penny-pinching."

"Morton, you've been with her since you were small. You haven't picked up that cheap, shabby streak of hers too, have you?"

I was too angry to keep up appearances any longer, and I was about to speakbut Morton didn't give me the chance.

He let go of Georgette's hand and angrily pulled me aside.

"You may be getting old, but you're not a caveman. You're online every day; don't tell me you don't know how important the passenger seat is. So many families fight, even divorce, over the passenger seat!"

I'd heard that a man forgets his mother once he has a wife.

But I never imagined Morton would take her side this completely.

"You were the one who told me to nitpick the car. You said it would get us a lower price and a lot of free extras."

Morton frowned.

"I told you to play along with the act. I didn't tell you to come here and maliciously provoke Georgette."

"You could've talked about the color, the style, even the tires, but no, you had to say the passenger seat was too cramped."

"You're not the one sitting in it, so what gives you the right to say whether it's cramped? If that's not deliberate, what is it?"

"And how could you come right out and say it was to haggle over the price? What are my parents supposed to think of me? You know perfectly well this is marital property, and I was planning to put Georgette's name on it. Saying that only makes them doubt whether I'm sincere."

"Don't you think before you speak? Is this the time to be stingy and save money?"

At that, Morton, beside himself, shoved me.

"Go apologize to Georgette. Now."

"If she won't forgive you, I won't forgive you either."

The shove made me stumble a couple of steps, and I only kept from falling by grabbing the table beside me.

Morton's words hurt more than Georgette's slap, and chilled me deeper than the ice in that iced americano.

I'd meant well, dipping into my savings to lift them up, buying them a car, and over one thing I said they blew it up into some grave offense against me. People like this are not my son and daughter-in-law. They're ingrates and bloodsuckers.

But I also knew.

There was no way for me, alone, to reason with four fake human beings.

The more I said, the more slaps I'd get.

So I let out a few cold laughs. I didn't apologize, I didn't argue. I just picked up my bag, ready to leave.

Seeing me like that, Matthew and Celeste knew I meant to walk out.

They weren't afraid I'd turn on thembut all their relatives and friends already knew about buying the car today, and they'd even arranged to take everyone out to dinner in the new car, so they couldn't lose this much face.

At that thought, Matthew and Celeste immediately blocked my way.

"All right, all right, we're willing to forgive you. After all, nobody's a saintwho never makes a mistake?"

"Don't get so worked up and embarrassed that you storm off. We've already talked Georgette around. She's a good girl, willing to forgive an honest slip."

"But even though she's willing to forgive you, you still have to show some effort, to prove you know you were wrong."

I gave a cold snort.

"What exactly did I do wrong?"

Matthew and Celeste had no patience left to argue with me, so they quickly shot Morton a look.

Morton caught on and grabbed my arm at once.

"All right, that's enough. Stop making a scene."

"If Georgette hears you don't even know what you did wrong, she'll just get angry all over again."

"Here's what we'll do. We won't take this car. You put in a little more and buy the top-of-the-line version. That way you don't have to apologize out loud, Georgette will still know you're sorry, and the whole thing is behind us for good."

I couldn't hold back any longer.

I whipped around and slapped Morton across the face, then walked out of the office and asked, loud and clear, the other customers browsing cars in the dealership.

"You're all young people, so I want to ask you something. Is the passenger seat really the other half of a man's bed? If his own mother doesn't get to sit in it, does even asking one question earn her a slap?"

The other customers had actually overheard our argument through the glass door a while ago.

So without a second thought, they spoke up for me.

The passenger seat is just the passenger seat. What's all this about half a bed? That's disgusting!

Exactly. Even a rideshare driver's wife doesn't tell customers they can't sit up front.

If you're that possessive, you might as well just tie your husband up at home.

Yeah, if you're so possessive, then don't spend someone else's money to buy a car. A wallet is a lot more private than a passenger seat.

...

Everyone piled on the mockery, and Georgette couldn't save face. She'd slapped me to make sure I knew who was in charge, to keep me in line, to squeeze more money out of me for the car. She had never imagined she'd become the target of everyone's scorn!

So she cracked a little, covered her face, and started wailing.

"There were rumors online that you shouldn't marry a widow's son, because it's not marrying the son, it's marrying the widow!"

"Morton, since you're taking your mother's side so hard, then let's just get divorced. You stay and live happily with your mother. Buy a car with a big passenger seat so you can haul her around everywhere."

Morton got frantic.

He pulled at me, trying to get me to go inside and apologize to Georgette, while also telling everyone to break it up, stop gawking, and stop talking nonsense.

But neither I nor anyone else took his words seriously.

Morton was furious.

"Mom, if you don't apologize right now, Georgette really will divorce me."

"I'm your only son. Just because your own marriage was unhappy, does that mean you want me to repeat the same mistake?"

"If we really get divorced, you'll be the one to blame. Can you carry that responsibility?"

I gave him another slap with the back of my hand.

"Stay married or don't, it's none of my business."

After returning both slaps, I left the car dealership without looking back and drove home.

Once I got home, my phone had dozens of missed calls and hundreds of WeChat messages piled up.

I didn't call anyone back, but I opened the messages and glanced at them, and every single one was blaming me, telling me to hurry up and pay, to hurry up and apologize.

Five:

I couldn't be bothered to reply, but then Morton called again. I meant to hang up, but I accidentally hit answer. I didn't say a word, and Morton didn't even notice I'd picked up. Instead, he angrily threw his phone down on the table.

"She still won't answer the phone."

"I really don't get it, why does she have to cause trouble at such a critical moment!"

Hearing this, Georgette stopped crying at once and spoke up anxiously.

"Mom, Dad, what do we do?"

"All my friends and coworkers know I'm getting a new car. If I can't drive it over tomorrow, how am I supposed to face anyone?"

Matthew and Celeste clicked their tongues.

"Morton, when Georgette loses face, you lose face. Are you really just going to stand there and watch and do nothing?"

Morton hadn't expected a simple car purchase to turn into this, so he mumbled.

"Georgette, you did say you were going to put my mom in her place today, to make her see she was wrong and give more money."

"My mother is, after all, someone with a bit of a reputation..."

Hearing this, Georgette cracked even harder.

"I only did it to get a grip on your mother!"

"And you're the one who said it yourself, that your mom dotes on you, that she treats you like her whole heart. So of course I figured no matter what I did, she'd forgive you."

"Whatever, I don't care. You have to fix this, or I really will divorce you."

Morton gritted his teeth for a long while, but in the end he couldn't bring himself to get angry at the Sawyers. He grumbled and cursed me out for a long time, and finally went with a zero-down-payment plan to buy the car for Georgette.

Only after the purchase was done.

He immediately sent me a message.

"I covered the down payment on the car for you for now. The down payment was a hundred thousand, and every month after this there's eight thousand in interest, all of which you have to pay!"

"This is what you agreed to."

I gave a little smile, blocked all of them on WeChat, and then picked up my phone to call Scott, the salesperson and broker who had helped me that day....

In the days that followed, Morton sent me plenty of texts demanding money, but I ignored every one of them. His tone gradually shifted from self-righteous to pleading.

It wasn't until a month later that Morton couldn't hold back and called me.

"It's been so long now, and I apologized. Isn't it time you moved on?"

I made a small sound of agreement.

"I moved on a long time ago."

After all, if I got angry at a fake person and held a grudge against a fake person, wouldn't that make me the crazy one too?

Morton breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good."

"The wedding house you bought me a couple of years ago is ready you can pick up the property title tomorrow. You promised back then you'd put the house in both my name and Georgette's."

"I'm calling to remind you to go to the property title office at ten thirty tomorrow morning. Don't forget."

I wasn't angry. I just made another small sound.

"Don't worry, how could I forget something this big?"

"I'll definitely be there tomorrow."

Hearing that, Morton's voice turned even lighter.

"I was actually worried you'd still be sore about the car dealership thing, but hearing you say that puts my mind at ease."

"The house is delivered as a bare shell. I don't know anything about renovations and I don't have the money, so you have to take care of finishing it for us. The place is big enough, but I only plan to renovate four rooms."

"Georgette and I will take the master bedroom, the second bedroom goes to my parents, then one study and one nursery."

Seeing me stay silent, even letting out a mocking little laugh, Morton got a bit awkward.

"I know I originally promised to save a room for you, but Mom and Dad think you'll bully Georgette, so they insist on moving in. I can't be unfilial cut me some slack!"

"Also, the car"

Seeing that Morton was about to go on and on, I cut in quickly.

"Whatever it is, we'll talk in person tomorrow. I need to rest."

Seven:

At ten thirty the next morning, Morton showed up at the property title office right on time with the three Sawyers.

When Georgette saw that I was already sitting there waiting, the look on her face couldn't have been more smug.

"I thought you'd use the transfer to hold us up, but I guess you actually know what you can and can't do!"

"The car was a small thing, after all. But if you didn't give us back the house, we really would've gotten furious!"

Matthew and Celeste tried to look aloof, but at the thought of finally moving out of their cramped old place and into a fully furnished big house, the smiles were impossible to hide.

"You've really done us proud we didn't misjudge you. Turns out you know how to behave!"

"Don't worry, even though we're taking the room you originally set aside for yourself, the door to the maid's room will always be open for you if you ever want to come visit!"

My expression stayed calm. But Morton is my son. He knows that the angrier I get, the smaller the matter, and the calmer I am, the bigger it is so he felt a little uneasy.

"Let's not get into all that right now."

"Let's grab a number and do the transfer first, so we don't keep them from getting off work!"

"Where's your purchase contract from back then? Take it out so we can handle the transfer."

I didn't move. I just spread my hands.

"No need to bother. The transfer was already done before you got here."

Morton and Georgette stared at each other.

"It's done?"

"But we never gave you our documents. How could you process the transfer?"

"Right, we have to be present in person to do a transfer. You're not joking, are you? Show me the property title."

I smiled.

"The property title isn't with me."

The four of them looked back and forth at one another, none of them understanding what I meant, all wearing the exact same baffled expression, pressing me over and over about what I meant.

I smiled.

"I sold the house to someone else. As long as the new owner and I are present, that's all it takes what does it have to do with you?"