My husband chimed in. “Should we go to the hospital? If you are pregnant, climbing up mountains for mushrooms isn’t a good idea.”
My mother-in-law nodded. “Exactly. This is your first child—you should be careful. You can’t go climbing if you're expecting.”
My sister-in-law’s face turned red with anger. Before I could explain, she jumped up, smashed a glass on the floor and yelled, “Married for three years and no baby, but now, as soon as I suggest a trip, you suddenly get pregnant? You’re just trying to spoil my fun because you’re jealous I got into college! You don’t want me to become a video star because then I’d overshadow you huh?”
In my previous life, I’d tried to stop her from going on that trip too.
Growing up in the mountains, I had seen too many locals fall victim to poisonous mushrooms, sometimes with fatal consequences.
But in my past live, my mother-in-law had accused me of cursing her daughter
“You’re worse than the deadliest mushroom! My daughter just finished her exams and you have the nerve to curse her like that because you’re jealous she’s going to college.”