My son invited me to dinner with his wife’s parents։ I deliberately decided to play the role of the “poor” mother — to see who they would think I was, without knowing the truth

The restaurant in downtown Dallas was made of glass and marble. Simona’s parents — impeccably dressed, coldly polite — shook my hand as if it were a meaningless formality.

They seated me a little farther away and ordered “something simple” for me, so the bill “wouldn’t be too high.”

They spoke gently, but every word was a jab. About how hard it is to live on a small salary. About how important it is to “have resources.”

Then came the offer: a small monthly allowance — in exchange for my disappearance from their lives.

😮😵 In that moment, my entire life and all my work were suddenly placed under a microscope I had never asked to be turned on.

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