I Demanded to Check My MILs Bags Before She Left My House, What I Discovered Made My Blood Boil
The first time I met Lorraine, she looked me up and down like I was some mislaid bargain-bin item someone had accidentally left in her designer closet. Her smile was tight, practiced, and laced with judgment. “Oh,” she said, voice coated in saccharine poison. “How… quaint you are.” I stood there like an idiot, holding…