MIL and the Dishes - Controlling Present

[slabump]

<<After a few times I explained to her why: My dishes were given to me by my beloved deceased grandmother. She gave them to me when I moved into my first apartment and though she lived for several years after that, she was in failing health, and the dishes were the last physical gift she ever gave me.>>

When someone fails to understand the significance of such a gift, and continues attempting to replace it, you have to question where her heart is--and whether she has one.

[Cowgirl]

Every Christmas and birthday for the past 4 or 5 years, MIL has come to me beforehand and asked, "Would you like new everyday dishes?" The first few times I simply said, "No, thank you, but here is a better idea." After a few times I explained to her why: My dishes were given to me by my beloved deceased grandmother. She gave them to me when I moved into my first apartment and though she lived for several years after that, she was in failing health, and the dishes were the last physical gift she ever gave me. Let me admit that the dishes are HORRIFICALLY tacky to the point of hilarity. And I LOVE them. My grandmother's style was pretty tacky as well and nearly everytime I use the dishes I think of her. Despite telling her this, every Christmas, every birthday MIL asked about the dishes.

At Christmas of course she asked again, and I said no. At the Mandatory IL Family Christmas Dinner, I overheard DH talking to a cousin about our dishes -- she was newly merried and had just received dishes as a gift; DH mentioned something about our ugly dishes and how he had never been fond of them and was a teensy bit jealous about cousin's new dishes. But he did say her understood my sentimental attachment.

Fast forward to my birthday last week. Amazing this time she didn't ASK me if I wanted new dishes. MIL presents me with a huge and heavy gift and what is it? You guessed it. Dishes. I guess since she heard DH talking about the fancy new dishes his cousin received my feelings ceased to matter, and poor little DH couldn't go on living with my hideously tacky dishes anymore. I was livid, but mumbled an unfeeling "Thank You." I wish I had thrown the box right to the floor. DH just laughed, said "I didn't have anything to do with this." Oh no?

But instead, this morning with DH's blessing, I dropped the d@mn things off at Goodwill, unopened. Someone's going to get a lovely brand new set of Fiesta Ware at a great price.