Sometimes I said, « I am not your maid. »
Sometimes I said, « Yes, and that woman is tired. »
Sometimes I said nothing because my children were in the room and I did not want them to hear me say what I was really thinking.
My husband, Aaron, hated it too.
People always assume men ignore this kind of thing, but he didn’t. He saw it. He hated the way his mother spoke to me. He hated the messes. He hated the little digs about how I folded towels, seasoned food, or « let » the kids make noise in their own house.
But every time he tried to confront her, she twisted the whole thing around so fast it gave you whiplash.
« I was only helping. »
« I was trying to take something off your plate. »
« I guess I’m just unwelcome. »
« I guess nothing I do is good enough. »
