Mother-in-law's Massage Chair Leads to Divorce

On Monday evening, when I got home from work, I could hear my mother-in-law, Luna Johnson, laughing before I even opened the door. When I stepped inside, I saw that a huge massage chair had taken over half the living room.

My daughter, Joyce, who had just started kindergarten and didn't understand much yet, spotted me first. With excitement, she said, "Mom, Dad bought this really big chair!”

Joyce was just a little kid and found everything fun, but I was feeling frustrated inside.

Eric, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to my feelings. He was thrilled, showing off the massage chair and talking about its features, how high-quality it was, and how it could do everything under the sun. He finally added, "My mom's been having back pain, so I thought a massage chair would be perfect for her.”

I couldn't care less about the chair at that moment. I just asked sharply, "Why didn't you discuss this with me first?”

Eric's excited grin froze. After a pause, he explained, "I saw it at the mall last time. Mom tried it out, liked it, so I bought it.”

I was getting a headache and asked, "Didn't you check the size before buying it? A smaller one could fit in a room, but this one's way too big for the living room and makes it hard to walk around.”

Before Eric could respond, Luna jumped in, "You didn't want to go to the mall that day. Now that the chair's here, what's the point in complaining? I think it's great. Better than you getting some yoga mat or whatever.”

She then plopped down on the chair, fiddling with its settings.

Luna's comment only fueled my frustration. What did she mean I didn't go? Recently, Joyce had been sick, and I'd spent nights taking care of her. When Joyce finally started feeling better, Luna wanted to go to the mall. I stayed home to watch over Joyce and avoid her getting sick again from the air conditioning. Now, Luna was using this against me.

Eric then said, "Amanda, it's already bought. Let's just leave it. Besides, Mom's health issues aren't our fault.”

I felt a chill. This wasn't the first time Eric had thrown this in my face. When we had a daughter instead of a son, Luna's attitude shifted drastically. Later, when Eric was worried about my health, he sent his mom back to her hometown. Who knew something would go wrong?

When Luna went to a relative's for a meal, she wasn't careful on her electric bike and fell into a pit, badly injuring her leg and needing surgery. At that time, Joyce was still little, and Adam was away working. Eric had to rush back to take Luna to the hospital.

When I called Eric to check on Luna, he sounded worn out, "Amanda, if you'd been a bit more patient, I wouldn't have had to send my mom back. Maybe she wouldn't have had the accident.”

That was the first time Eric had complained about me. Even though I didn't think it was my fault, it wasn't the right moment to argue. I offered a quick word of comfort and ended the call.

I didn't realize at the time that this would become a major issue between us.

Today, when Eric brought it up again, I lost it. "You always blame me. What did I do? She went out on her own, fell off her bike, and now you're saying it's my fault?”