The first time our groceries were lined up in the back of the fridge, I didn't think anything of it. It's normal to rearrange food items on shelves when new groceries are bought, leftovers are stored, or simply something was taken out and replaced in a new spot.
It may have been inconvenient to remove several items in order to reach our almond milk or yogurt or apple juice or kombucha, but it wasn't worth dwelling on.
We moved our items, placing them on the left side of the top shelf, with larger items like the milk in the back and smaller items like the yogurt in front for ease of access. The rest of the shelf was completely clear for use by my husband's mother.
We didn't have many items in the fridge and freezer.
The fridge door was so full of condiments and sauces at varying ages of expiration, we could barely fit a single ketchup or mustard of our own.
With the exception of the carton of almond milk and bottle of apple juice at the top, we had two to three items of small to medium size per shelf.
And there was a separate deep freeze for packs of meat and other larger frozen items.
Yet, once more, all of our items were re-positioned. Placed in a row. At the back of the top shelf. And all other items, belonging to my husband's mother, were systematically placed in front. Small cups of yogurt were obscured by less than a centimeter full gallon jugs of tea, soda, cartons of creamer.
Similar shifting also occurred on lower shelves. Our case of strawberries and blackberries pushed to the back behind weeks old covered containers of leftovers.
There was no cause for any of our food to be touched. Nothing had been blocking any of her food.
But a cycle and a pattern began to make itself apparent.
One day I discovered that a whole carton of almond milk was completely frozen. It had been moved, probably overnight, to the back right corner of the top shelf directly in front of vent releasing cold air blown from the evaporator fan.
We had very little savings at this point. A nearly full carton of milk was now a block of ice that didn't seem to want to thaw. It produced dribbles of liquid and chunks of ice.
Being able to purchase the items that we were used to eating without begging a woman whose history had shown wasn't above using what she had given as a way to demand control over our actions, was important.
My husband's mother had taken to asking questions about every single item of food we purchased. She wanted to “learn” what was usual for us to eat for breakfast.
“What's that?”
“Huh?”
“Oh, that's organic?”
“Where'd you get that?”
“Why do you eat that?”
While this may seem charming at first glance, one of the underlying motives became apparent after she asked us for help organizing her finances and doing her taxes. That's for a later telling.
She began mimicking our purchases. If she saw we bought a particular maple syrup one time, in a week or so, she would return from work and pull the same syrup from shopping bags, waving it and exclaiming “look what I got!”
It was disturbing and intrusive. We never asked her to pick up anything for us. And I preferred to wait until we could afford a thing in order to buy it. That's something my own mother painstakingly taught me.
She had also taken to saying to my husband “look, I got your favorite” insert thing. One of those items were the gallon jugs of tea. One type for her. One type for him.
Again, I didn't think anything of it, until I realized these announcements in particular often preceded her re-shuffling our other food.
At my request, my husband told his mother to stop buying him gallons of tea as it was nice to try it again now that we were back in the U.S., but in general he no longer drank it. When it came to her tea, he asked if it was ok to place unopened gallon jugs of tea in the pantry until the previous jugs in the fridge were finished.
At first, she gave her assent but that only lasted so long. Soon, his mother concocted a story that she had gotten a bad gallon of tea. It tasted off and she thought she would need to return it to the store. Full gallons along with the nearly empty ones returned to the fridge.
In the mornings, we were free of her. She was at work. We woke up late in the morning, similar to what our schedules had been while we were abroad, and then got to work job-hunting and tending to our budgets and household.
But her not being able to see what we were doing at every second was too much for her to bear.
During the weekends, it was:
“oh, you guys got up late today huh?”
OR
“late start again today huh?”
During the week it was:
“What time did you wake up today?”
“Did you eat breakfast?”
“What did you eat?”
The same inane incessant questions day after day. Needling at our routines. Hounding us for a recount of every moment she could not personally witness.
Followed by a nonstop litany of garbage about what went on at her job. Or whatever political rage-bait malarkey she believed was the gospel that day. Or what ever storm, hurricane, or tornado, that was no where near our location, was brewing that day.
When she saw that either one of us was especially focused on our work, this seemed to signal it was prime time to interrupt what we were doing. Nothing we were doing could be remotely important.
“You guys shouldn't move so fast!”
“It takes time to get back on your feet. You shouldn't rush.”
“You should look for jobs here!”
“Have you seen the houses in this neighborhood!?”
This was so frustrating and infuriating, that I was in tears once I returned to the bedroom we were staying in. Going from having peace and quiet, to being constantly interrupted and intruded upon was insane.
Our privacy did not seem to be something she felt we were entitled to.
It only stopped when I spoke with my husband to make it stop. And that took more prodding than it should have done.
One day we went grocery shopping and found that the brand of almond milk we bought, could be purchased in a larger jug size. I had my husband pick up two. The left side of the top fridge shelf always has two jugs of almond milk there now.
My husband's mother's new favorite topic is on how much she needs a new fridge now because she has no space in her current one.
Entry #3
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