My Mother-in-Law Has Begun Improving My Marriage Via a Series of Anonymous Tips That Are Not Anonymous at All Because She Signs Them
Patrice. I have read your submission three times and I want to begin by addressing the most pressing issue first.
Keep the casserole recipe.
I want to be clear that this is not a concession. This is not a victory for Dolores. A good casserole is ideologically neutral and Fletcher having two helpings is simply data. File it under Household Inventory and move on.
Now. What Dolores is engaged in is a textbook case of Matriarchal Marital Intervention Syndrome (MMIS), a condition in which a mother, having successfully produced and launched a son into matrimony, finds herself unable to fully relinquish the project. The anonymous note campaign is the classic opening phase. The monogrammed lavender paper is — and I say this as a professional — the single greatest act of self-defeating espionage I have encountered in fourteen years of practice. Dolores is not a covert operator, Patrice. Dolores is a woman with a stationery preference and opinions she can no longer contain.
Regarding Fletcher: he knows. He absolutely knows. The man had two helpings of a casserole that arrived with the word COMMITMENT written on it in red pen and said nothing. Fletcher is a man who has learned the very specific survival skill of existing peacefully between two powerful women and has apparently decided that enthusiastic casserole consumption is his contribution to the peace process. This is not nothing. This is diplomacy.
My recommendation is a direct, warm, and clearly boundaried conversation with Dolores. Invite her for coffee. Tell her you love Fletcher. Tell her the casserole was excellent. Then tell her, gently but without ambiguity, that your windshield wiper is for parking tickets only.
Bring the 1962 pamphlet. Return it with kindness. Dog-ear the pages you found interesting.
This will confuse her so thoroughly that she may not recover until spring.