My Daughter-in-Law Kept Coming Empty-Handed Until I Stopped My Son From Taking the Lobster
I've always been the generous one in the family. I'd host every family get-together with open arms and a full table. But this time, I'd had enough.
I spent $350 on ten pounds of fresh lobster for our Saturday family seafood feast. Ten pounds might seem like a lot for nine people, but I never wanted anyone to leave my house hungry. That's been my policy for ages.
Whenever family members stepped through my door, they were greeted with a loaded plate, a cold drink, a comfy seat, and plenty of leftovers to make them feel loved. At least, that's what family gatherings used to signify to me.
I never thought my daughter-in-law, Lisa, and her mother, Grace, would show up empty-handed with coolers, treating my house like a free seafood buffet.
And I definitely didn't imagine my own son, Craig, would help them pack up the pricey food I'd prepared without even asking me. But that's exactly what happened.
My name is Helen Thompson. I'm 62, married to my husband, Dave. For most of my adult life, I've been proud to be the host of every family event.
Our house is in a peaceful neighborhood outside Seattle, Washington. It's the kind of place where neighbors mow their lawns on weekends, put out colorful flower pots, and wave at neighbors passing by.
Our backyard isn't fancy. It has a stone patio, a big wooden bench, a maple tree for shade, and a grill that Dave has taken care of like a precious relic for over 15 years.
This yard has seen countless birthdays, anniversaries, holiday feasts, and more Saturday dinners than I can count.
I love hearing the laughter under the tree. I love watching people carry plates from the kitchen. I love the sound of the screen door opening and closing as someone asks for more coleslaw.
Dave often tells me I have a knack for making people feel cared for. Or maybe I've just spent too many years thinking love means doing more than others while ignoring when they give nothing back.
The Friday before the seafood feast, I woke up before six and sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and my little planner. Dave sat across from me reading the morning paper while I listed all the things I planned to serve.
Iced tea, lemonade, and blueberry pie.
"Helen, how many people are you feeding? The whole Seahawks team?" "There'll be nine of us." "Then why does that list look like you're opening a seafood restaurant?" He shook his head, but he was smiling.
After 35 years of marriage, Dave knew it was pointless to argue once I'd decided to feed the family.
