My Husband Said His Mom Deserved the Front Seat More than Me – I Taught Him a Lesson

I didn’t tell Harry or his mother. I tucked my driver’s license into my wallet and waited for the right moment.

It came on my birthday.

We were supposed to go out to dinner. All three of us, naturally, because Stephanie couldn’t possibly miss her son’s wife’s birthday.

Harry had made reservations at some place I’d never heard of, probably somewhere his mother suggested.

As usual, we walked out to the car together. Harry moved toward the driver’s side, keys jingling. Stephanie headed straight for the passenger door like it had her name engraved on it.

I paused near the back door, then smiled.

“Oh, wait,” I said casually, like I’d just remembered something.

“Before we go, there’s a surprise. In the garage. A white box.

Can you both go grab it?”

Harry’s face lit up. “A surprise? For me?”

“Something like that.”

Stephanie looked pleased.

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