***
I’m Sarah. I’m twenty-nine, and I’ve been married to Evan for three years.
We own a house ten minutes from his mother. In hindsight, that’s nine minutes too close.
My mother-in-law, Diane, and Julian Assange have one thing in common.
At first I thought I’d won the mother-in-law lottery. She brought pie. She watered our plants. She kept a spare key “for emergencies.”
Then the emergencies started.
One morning I couldn’t find my coffee. I found it on the top shelf, behind the flour.
“Diane, why is my coffee up there?”
“You drink too much caffeine, sweetheart.”
Then the emergencies started.
Next went the cheese. Twelve dollars, imported, barely touched.
“Diane, where’s my cheese?”
“It expired tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow! It was fine today!”
“Then you shouldn’t buy such expensive cheese.”
“It was my cheese.”
At first I thought I’d won the mother-in-law lottery.
“And I was saving you money.”
I told Evan that night.
