My mother-in-law, sending her son to Egypt, decided to renovate the apartment with my help. I couldn’t stand such audacity.

Lesya, you know, I’m flying to warm countries next week. My mom has already bought a vacation package. Maybe you’ll join me?” Roman said uncertainly. “You know perfectly well that I work, and nobody will let me off work next week,” I replied irritably, ”

I only have vacation in July. Such things need to be discussed together!” “But my mom already bought the package… I don’t want to disappoint her. I’ll probably go after all,” Roman told me. “Sure, go ahead, have a safe journey!” I was annoyed with the situation. Roman wasn’t working; he was still studying at the university. We could have waited until my vacation and gone together. No, his mom intervened and bought him that vacation package. And he couldn’t refuse his mom, or change the holiday dates. As always, a mama’s boy.

Roman and I lived in the apartment his mother bought for him, a two-bedroom one. I also have my own apartment, but it’s modest – a one-bedroom in not the best neighborhood, so it was more convenient for him to live there. After Roman left, two days passed; I had a day off, and I was peacefully sleeping, catching up on rest after early mornings. I heard the creak of the key in the lock. I barely opened my eyes, not understanding who it could be. But then Roman’s mom peeked into the room, all happy and energetic.

“Lyusya, get up! How long can you sleep! I bought wallpaper, let’s do some renovations while Roman is in Egypt! We’ll hang wallpaper, paint the ceiling, do a bit of rearranging! We’ll manage in a week! Imagine, Roman will come back from the sea, and the apartment will already be renovated; he’ll be so pleased!” “Olga Petrovna, in other words, Roman will bask in the sun, while I, after work, have to do repairs in his apartment? So that he’ll be pleased?” “Yes, don’t you want to make him happy?” “No, I don’t want! Imagine that! If you’re so eager to please him, do the repairs yourself or hire workers; I won’t lift a finger.” “Well, you’ve finally shown your true colors. Somewhere deep down, I knew what you were like, but I didn’t want to believe it. So here’s what I’ll tell you, dear. Now my Roman will never marry you.” “Do you need to hang wallpaper in his apartment to get married? Is this some kind of test?” I quickly got dressed and slammed the door. A week passed. I enjoyed the quiet and peace in my small and cozy apartment. Roman called, returning from Egypt, and immediately started with complaints: ”

Hello, why didn’t you help my mom? She had to hire workers! “You know, my dear, let’s figure out how you and my mom can manage on your own, without me,” I replied. Fifteen years have passed since the end of this story. I got married and became the mother of two wonderful girls. And Roman split up for the third time. Perhaps no one has passed the mom’s test for a good wife yet.

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