"What are you arguing about again? You don't even cook at home, all you do is argue with Dad and stir up trouble between Aunt and Uncle. It's so annoying!" Bryan complained with a frown, while my mother-in-law had a cryptic smile on her face. It seemed like she was behind this again.
My son was eight years old this year and just started third grade. When he criticized me alongside his father, he didn't sound like a third grader at all.
I couldn't remember when the child I had raised started looking at me without a word of gratitude, only complaints.
"When you play at home every day, you're wasting my dad's money."
"My dad works so hard to make money. Can't you make things easier for him?"
"What right do you have to tell me what to do? You're the one in this family who does nothing but play."
When my son spoke to me, I felt dazed for a moment. His expression overlapped with Brandon's in my mind. Perhaps I really didn't know how to raise a child, which was why the child I risked my life to give birth to knew how to hurt me the most.
Previously, when I was sick and resting at home, I was bedridden with a high fever. My husband, Brandon, my son, Bryan and my mother-in-law, Brenda, each came to my bedside one after the other.
"Mom, I'm hungry. Get up and make me some food."
"Where's the soy sauce in the kitchen? Mom can't find it, so why don't you get up and cook?"
"My grandson is too much to handle and Brandon can't manage. Hurry and get up to take care of your son."
They weren't concerned about me, they just wanted to see if I was pretending to be sick so they could make me get up and do housework. In the end, I couldn't get up and heard complaints all around the house as my mother-in-law cooked and everyone ate together.
In that family gathering, I was not included. I was starving and was left with nothing but a bowl of cold porridge.
"Aren't you running a fever? Eat something cold to bring it down."
I washed the dishes from that meal the next day after my fever broke. They only needed me when there was a problem. Otherwise, I was invisible. No one in this family ever listened to me, nor did anyone care about my feelings.
I looked at my son, who was impatient and said, "There's no need to argue anymore. Your dad and I are getting a divorce. You won't have a mother anymore."
This marriage should have ended long ago and it was better to leave this son behind too.