If I were to examine my psyche, I guess the motivations are obvious. I'm trying to show her that her son married a domestic goddess and that I take good care of him (better care of him than she did, perhaps?). I don't know why I care what she thinks, but I do.
Last night, I realized that I don't need to work so hard.
Tonight MIL and Pa are going to babysit (wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles) while Jason and I go out on a dinner date. MIL announced last night that for their dinner tonight, she's making Pa -- wait for it -- franks and beans.
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Nu?