My DIL and I never got along, but I had to invite her to a family gathering. She brought a pie. “I made it just for you,” she said with a smile. The pie tasted strange, so I took a closer look, and my blood ran cold: inside the pie was a piece of plastic wrap. My DIL smiled awkwardly and admitted, “I made it from a ready-to-use mix… I was too busy to bake from scratch.”
I couldn’t believe it—she had lied about making it herself. I felt a wave of anger, not just because of the pie, but because it seemed like she never took our family gatherings seriously. My husband tried to laugh it off, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she disrespected me yet again.