Two days after the wedding Doris insisted on controlling my debit card because she claimed young couples could not manage money responsibly. Every month she handed me a few hundred dollars for groceries while interrogating me about every receipt as if I were a criminal suspect.
“Why is this steak so expensive?” she would demand while examining the receipt closely. “Did the butcher cheat you because you look naive? And why did you buy organic strawberries? Are you secretly hiding money for yourself?”
My clothes gradually became old and worn because I never dared to buy anything new. One day I saw a simple dress online that cost one hundred dollars, and even after hesitating for days I did not dare purchase it. I knew Doris would explode with accusations about wasting Travis’s hard earned money.
When she did complain, Travis always repeated the same line calmly. “My mom means well, so please do not argue with her.”