Living with My In-Laws

After we got married, my wife and I moved in with her parents. This is normal in my country, and I thought it would be easy. My in-laws are kind people. The house is big. I was wrong about the easy part.

The problems were small but constant. My mother-in-law cooks differently from my mother, and I said so once. Once was enough. My father-in-law watches the news very loudly at ten at night. The bathroom is shared with five people, and I'm always last.

After six months I talked to my wife, and she talked to her mother, and things changed a little. I stopped commenting on the food. The TV got quieter. I learned to wake up first. Living with in-laws means everyone gives up something small. In return, my wife's mother taught me to make her rendang, which is, honestly, better than my mother's. I'll never say that at home.