**Diary Entry A Lesson in Boundaries**
«You have no right to behave like this in my home!» Emily’s voice trembled with barely contained fury. She stood in the hallway, clutching her handbag to her chest like a shield.
«This is *my* flat, Margaret! *Mine!*»
Something like contempt flickered in her mother-in-laws eyes.
«What am I supposed to do, love, if you cant keep it tidy yourself?» Margaret hissed through clenched teeth. «Dust on the shelves, dishes left in the sink. Is this how decent people live?»
Emily gripped the bag strap so tightly her knuckles turned white. Resentment and helplessness churned inside her.
«I *work*, Margaret! I dont always have time»
«You *make* time for what matters,» Margaret cut in, lifting her chin before marching toward the door. «Im only trying to help, and instead of gratitude, I get cheek.»
The door clicked shut, leaving Emily alone in the silent flat. The quiet pressed against her ears, but inside, the storm still raged. She kicked off her heels and wandered into the lounge, then the kitchen, the bedroomeverywhere bearing traces of Margarets *help*.
And the bedroom Her mother-in-law mustve finished just minutes before she arrived. The hand cream from the nightstand was gone. The little holiday trinket from the dresservanished.
Emily paced like a trapped animal, hands shaking with anger. Shed come home exhausted, dreaming of a shower and tea in her favourite mug Now, in her own home, nothing was where it should be.
The front door clicked. Daniel was back from work. He took one look at her standing lost in the kitchen and knewsomething was wrong.
«Em, whats happened?» He reached for her, but she twisted away.
«Your mother was here *again*,» Emilys voice cracked. «She *tidied* our bedroom, Dan! The *bedroom*! Dont you see how mad that is?»
Daniel sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. She knew that gesturehis *I dont know what to say* tell.
«Em, she means well…»
«*Means well?*» Her eyes darkened. «I cant find my phone charger! My favourite mugs missingIve looked for half an hour! And shes *hidden* the bathroom towels somewhere!»
When he reached for her hands, she retreated to the window.
«She *always* throws things out, Dan!» Emily swiped at angry tears. «Things that *matter* to me! But she calls them *clutter*!»
«Mum just shows love this way,» Daniel said gently. «Shes used to everything being just so…»
«Her *help* makes me sick!» Emily snapped. «Im tired of another woman ruling *my* home! Deciding what I need, what I dont. Im *done*, Dan!»
She sank onto a chair, face in her hands, shoulders trembling. Daniel hesitantly wrapped an arm around her.
«Sorry, love. Ill talk to her, yeah? Ask her to stop…»
Emily gave a bitter laugh.
«And shell *listen*, wont she? Pull the other one.»
Daniel managed to calm her. Made tea, found her mugstashed at the back of a cupboard.
But Margaret didnt stop.
Three days later, Emily walked in and *knew*. That heavy, floral perfume in the air. The kitchen jars rearranged by size. The fridgegroceries lined up with infuriating precision. Too tired to fight, she collapsed onto the sofa, rage simmering.
A week later, it happened again. This time, Margaret had *organised* the wardrobe. Emilys favourite dressonce within easy reachwas crumpled on the top shelf.
Standing before the open wardrobe, she swallowed tears. This wasnt her sanctuary anymore. Every homecoming was a guessing game*Had she come? Whats missing now?*
Then, Friday night, the call came.
«Yeah, Mum… Of course… Saturday? Well be there.»
Daniel turned to her, sheepish.
«Mums invited us for dinner. Says she has news.»
Emily froze.
«Do we *have* to?»
«Em, dont be childish. Shes gone to troublemade your favourites. Even baked that treacle tart you liked.»
She forced a smile.
At dinner, Margaret chatted only with Danielneighbour gossip, telly dramas, market prices. Emily pushed food around her plate in silence.
«Not hungry, dear?» Margaret finally asked.
«Just thinking,» Emily muttered.
«Right,» Margaret set down her fork. «My news. Gladys and I are off to a spa retreat. Ten days. Doctors orders.»
«Brilliant, Mum!» Daniel beamed. «You need a break.»
«Quite.» Margaret pulled a keyring from her apron. «Heres my spare set. Pop in for the plants, would you?»
Emily stared at the keys. Two on a plain ring. A plan unfurled in her mind. She almost smiled.
The next week, colleagues noticed the changeEmily humming, smiling.
«Youre cheery,» Daniel remarked at dinner. «Bonus come through?»
«Just happy,» she said airily.
The day before Margarets return, Emily left work early. «*Dentist.*»
Outside Margarets flat, her heart pounded. *My turn.* The key turned.
On Sunday, they collected Margaret from the station. She looked refreshed, chattering about treatments, new friends, the food.
«Fancyporridge with honey and nuts! Ive jotted the recipe…»
Emily sat silent, stomach twisting.
Margaret opened her doorand froze.
«What… what *is* this?» Her voice quivered.
She darted inside. Spotlessbut *nothing* where it should be.
«My figurines!» Margaret rushed to the display cabinet. «*Where are they?*»
She tore through rooms, yanking drawers. Face purpling, she whirled on Emily.
«You!» she spat. «*You* did this!»
Emily lifted her chin, a faint smile playing on her lips.
«Yes. Me.» She feigned innocence. «Dont you like it? I *helped*. Tidied up so you wouldnt have to.»
Daniel gaped, silent.
«Oh, and» Emily added sweetly, «I binned those old figurines. And the teacups. You never used themjust *dust collectors*. *Clutter*, wasnt it? Like my things you tossed.»
«You *dare*?» Margaret screeched. «My *home*! My *things*!»
«Funny, isnt it?» Emily said coolly. «When its *your* mess being rearranged.»
«Daniel!» Margaret shrieked. «Are you hearing this?»
Emily cut in. «Goodness, look at the time! We must dash.» She steered her shell-shocked husband out.
Only outside did Daniel exhale.
«Bloody hell, Em…»
She smiled. Warm satisfaction spread through her.
*Perfect.*
Two months later, Margaret hadnt set foot in their flat.
*Victory.*
**Lesson learned:** Sometimes, the only way to teach respect is to serve the lesson coldand in their own dish.
