Tiger Mother-in-Law

Anyone who reads this blog knows about my mother-in-law. And I guess it's no fault of her own that she must uphold the mother-in-law creed and keep her cheeky, addle-headed daughter-in-law in line. Yes, we've butted heads.

But she is also pretty cool too.

This little known fact came to my attention the other day.

My son came in from school with two pieces of cloth that needed to be hand sewn onto his gym shirts. I suck at this sewing thing. Majorly. But he needed at least one done by the next day, so I decided no matter how long it took I was going to do it. And I was going to do it grandly.

That was the plan.

And, indeed, it took nearly and hour and a half -- and many bloodied fingers later -- while I carefully stitched tiny stitch after tiny stitch. And I finished.

Ta-dah!



When you're concentrating on those tiny stitches you don't see when the whole thing goes askew or folds over. I nearly cried. I apologized to my son and told him to look at the bright side: at least I didn't sew the front to the back.

I called my mother-in-law who is pure awesome in all things sewing, gardening and cooking.

She said she'd gladly do the next one.

Behold!




Yep. I was like WTF? But I didn't ask how long it took (then I'd really cry). I mentioned my attempt and she demurely suggested if I wanted to she'd redo it for me. I'm sure she thought I'd say no. Instead I said, I'm bringing it over this weekend with a platter of sushi! I'll even wait to unstitch it until she gets a good gander. You know, everyone needs a good laugh once in awhile. Even mother-in-laws.

And so I dub her the Tiger Mother-in-Law.

Another example, I stopped by today and she said she was goofing around in the kitchen and made this:



Candies orange peels. She already had some in a Tupperware for me to take home.

And -- no surprise -- they're delicious!

My Superpower, My Retirement Plan

This is an aeonium, a kind of cactus-like plant that originated in the Canary Islands. It grows green in the shade and turns dark purple in the sun.

My mother-in-law gave me a small cutting of one many years ago. She made great efforts to explain to me how expensive that cutting was. This single sprig would cost me hundreds of dollars at a flower shop. I thanked her profusely, went home and stuck it in the dirt.

These days this plant is the center of all our conversations, on the phone or in person. See, my mother-in-law has a very green thumb and I do not. Once I killed an orchid so expensive and so beautiful we all cried. And yet her aeonium has become this sad anorexic looking thing. And mine -- for reasons unknown -- has become this:

And this:


Even neighbors have stopped by to comment on my cactus growing super powers.

Pieces fall off and I stick them back in the ground. Two months later and I find this:

So last time my mother-in-law came over and our conversation naturally went to the aeonium, she began to calculate how much I could sell the little branches for. The idea was born. I don't need no stinkin' bank. I don't need no investments, no 401K (no, really, they don't even have those here). All I need is some dirt and a little rain.

Now, while researching this blog post I just discovered these things online cost like two bucks for a potful. We won't be telling my mother-in-law or my neighbors. Okay? My Plan B retirement plan is cat breeding.