After I Got Rregnant, My Mother-in-law Gave Me Leftovers Every Day

Two days later, the hallway was almost completely blocked by her junk.

And it was midsummer, so the bottles and cans hadn't been properly emptied, and the whole place stank.

The neighbors finally couldn't take it anymore and came knocking on our door.

"Is your family running a junkyard? Do you have any sense of decency?"

My mother-in-law opened the door and started shouting.

"Who are you calling indecent? The hallway isn't yours; I'll put things wherever I want!"

My husband quickly stepped in to smooth things over, promising to clean it up right away.

Then he turned around and angrily asked me.

"What's wrong with you? Aren't you the one who usually cleans up this mess?"

Oh, so you do realize it was usually me cleaning up after her, huh? If it didn't affect you directly, you didn't care, right?

All the messes your mom made, I was supposed to clean up.

Well, I wasn't going to indulge them anymore.

"I'm pregnant, and the fortune-teller said it's a boy. The doctor said I shouldn't exert myself; it could affect the baby. For the sake of the Shelton family bloodline, how could I dare move around?"

With that, neither of them said another word.

My husband and mother-in-law cleaned up all the trash in the hallway and the house, packed it up, and decided to walk to the recycling center.

Whenever they sent me to sell it, I'd always take a taxi to make the old lady happy.

But I never expected that the two of them, to save 10 or 20 dollars in taxi fare, would actually walk the four or five kilometers to the recycling center.

When they finally arrived, they found out the recycling center was closed that day.

My husband, sweating and out of breath, said.

"Mom, let's leave it here and come back tomorrow."

But my mother-in-law wouldn't agree,

"What if someone took it at night? We'd lose out!"

Although my husband was annoyed, he felt she had a point, so the two of them carried all the trash back home.

They didn't manage to sell anything and ended up exhausted after working all day for nothing.

When they got back, they didn't say a word.

They finally turned on the fan to cool off, but after two minutes, they turned it off right away.

While we were having dinner, there was a frantic knocking at the door.

When we opened it, we saw the neighbor's father with his child, whose leg was bleeding.

His face was red with anger, veins bulging, as he shouted at my mother-in-law.

"My child got cut by a glass bottle, all because of your junk! If you don't compensate us, I'm calling the police right now!"

The mother-in-law was startled and shrank back.

My husband came out and saw the broken bottle in the hallway, realizing they couldn't avoid responsibility.

"Alright, tell us how much you want."

"Eight thousand!"

When my mother-in-law heard this, she looked incredulous. Feeling emboldened with her son backing her up, she stepped forward.

"Eight thousand? Why don't you just go rob a bank?"

"Back in our day, we'd just spit on a wound like this, and it'd be fine."

Saying this, she even moved to spit on the child's wound.

The man was even more furious upon hearing this and shoved my mother-in-law aside, raising his hand as if to hit her.

My mother-in-law immediately threw herself to the ground, screaming in pain.

She kept shouting, "Assault! Assault!"