My 4-Year-Old’s Distress Revealed My MIL’s Hidden Agenda – How I Got Even

My 4-Year-Old Son Got Extremely Upset Every Time My MIL Babysat Him – When I Found Out Why, I Got Revenge

As a nurse, Zoe frequently had to rely on her mother-in-law, Denise, to watch her son, Leo. But when the small child shows signs of being scared by his grandmother’s presence, Zoe is forced to inquire about the elderly woman’s intentions and finds out that Denise is hiding something.

My mother-in-law Denise had always seemed a bit controlling, but I always explained it away as her protective nature toward my son, Leo, her only grandchild.

She was one of those women who, when you saw her, you had to straighten your back and consider what you were saying. This was made even more apparent after her husband, Jeremy, died a few years ago and Denise took back her position as head librarian of the neighborhood library.

One day, she asked my husband Andrew, “Why shouldn’t I?” “It’s not necessary for me to only have my part-time job there because I have time today. Additionally, I am able to hold my book club meetings in the library.”

“All right, Mom,” said Andrew. “You do whatever you want.”

Denise had a way of making you feel insignificant without even trying; she wasn’t cruel, precisely. Nevertheless, Denise lived two roads away and was always willing to watch Leo while I worked at the hospital; in addition, because Andrew’s hours at the law business were erratic, Denise frequently had to fill in.

“Surely, Zoe, that’s what grandmothers are for?” she would ask each time I invited her to visit.

And even though she was unpredictable in her mood swings, she was dependable and never once voiced complaints.

However, Leo had been acting strangely every time Denise visited lately. It started off with little things. When I would try to get away, he would cling to my leg a little longer than normal, or he would hide under the couch when he heard her car arrive into the driveway.

I assumed that my youngster was experiencing a passing mood or perhaps even some separation anxiety. With the children in my ward, I had witnessed it frequently, particularly when they woke up and their parents were nowhere to be found.

However, he started weeping last week just before I was going to go for a night shift.

He exclaimed, “I don’t want Grandma to stay with me!”

He was crying big giant tears down his face, and he was holding on to my scrub like a grown man.

I bent down next to him and gently brushed a strand of his blond hair off his brow.

“But why, sweetheart?” I made a gentle inquiry. “Your grandmother adores you. She also always brings you goodies. Do you recall the ice cream and brownies from the previous week?

My son looked quickly to the doorway, as though he thought she might appear any moment.

“Because… Grandma acts strange,” he murmured, his gaze wide.

I had to know what was going on, so I was going to push him a bit more. However, a short while afterward, Denise’s well-known, truncated footsteps resounded up the corridor. Leo ran upstairs to his room.

“What’s going on?” Setting her purse down on the hall table, Denise asked. “Where’s my grandbaby?”

“Nothing,” I blurted out. “To play with his toys, he dashed to his room. The next two days are spent apart from Andrew. He’s going over a matter with a client in a meeting.”

Denise gave a nod.

I couldn’t get rid of the uneasy feeling in my gut as I headed to work. I thought about Leo’s remarks and ran from patient to patient all night long.

“Grandma acts strange.”

For a four-year-old, what did that even mean?

Upon arriving home the following day, I discovered my son seated on the couch, vacantly gazing at the television. The cartoons he liked were on, but he wasn’t watching them. Rather, his eyes were swollen and red, as though he had been crying all night.

“Leo?” I spoke slowly. “Did you sleep at all?”

He gave a headshake.

“No, Mommy,” he uttered. “I remained awake. I refused to go to sleep.”

“Why not?” Despite feeling my heart was already slipping, I asked.

In an attempt to get Leo to talk, I wrapped one of the blankets around him and tucked it under the coffee table.

“Because Grandma scares me,” he murmured, gripping his teddy bear firmly.

Panic took a deep toll on me.

“Are you afraid? Honey, what happened? What actions or words did Granny say?

“She keeps trying to put something into my mouth,” he replied. “She chases me with it, and it’s scary.”

“What is she trying to put into your mouth, sweetheart?” I questioned, trying hard to express my feelings with a tight voice.

Leo wavered.

“Cotton buds,” uttered by him. “What do you use to clean my ears, you know? She expressed her want to insert my spit inside the tube. It doesn’t appeal to me. I’m not interested in it.

My heart felt icy. Leo has been afraid of medical professionals, needles, and anything that reminds him of his hospital stay ever since his bike accident a few months ago, in which he shattered his arm.

My blood boiled at the notion of Denise chasing around the house with a test vial and a cotton swab. What made her want my son to submit to a DNA test?

“Where’s Grandma?” Leo and I asked.

“In the guest room,” he stated.

As I marched to the guest room, I discovered Denise soundly sleeping, completely unaware of the impending screaming match. I shook her awake without thinking.

I said, “Wake up, we need to talk.”

She asked, blinking away her drowsiness, “What’s going on?”

Leo recently informed me that you’ve been attempting to take a test sample from his mouth. What is causing my son such trauma? Why do you think a DNA test on him is necessary?” I insisted.

Her eyes grew wide, and she appeared as though she might dispute it for a split second.

“I apologize,” she sat up and said. “I didn’t intend to spook Leo. I have a question regarding something.

“What? Why would you do this behind my back if it were possibly so important?

“His hair,” was all she said. “Nobody has had blonde hair like that.”

“You think that my son isn’t Andrew’s because of his hair color?” I enquired.

“I realize this seems strange, but it has been bothering me. I didn’t want to accuse you; I just needed to know.”

“I can’t believe that you would go to such lengths, Denise.”

“I was at a loss for ideas. I apologize, Zoe,” she uttered.

I said, “Please go, Denise.” “To comprehend this, I need some time. And Leo needs to be my main priority.

She looked disheartened as she nodded.

We had a strained relationship for the next week with Andrew. On the day of the confrontation, she had called Andrew and told him everything, sowing the seeds of doubt, while she drove home.

One day, without looking at me, he said in a calm way, “I think we should do the test.”

Hurt, I looked at him.

Do you honestly believe that is required? You accept the implication made by your mother?”

He remarked, “It’s not that I believe it.” “But all of this can be resolved if we conduct the exam. No more questions, no more charges. Imagine Leo had been switched at birth.

“I had a home birth!” I let out a cry. “You would have remembered if you were here and not in court.”

I exhaled.

I responded, “Alright,” after a brief pause. “I’ll do the test for Leo, but on one condition.”

He enquired, “What condition?”

You’re going to take a test as well, if I’m willing to go to this length to establish our son’s ownership. to establish the validity of your father’s identity. Denise must experience this firsthand.”

Andrew’s eyes became wide as my request registered as a source of shock. “What? Why even would you make such a suggestion?”

I knew he was attempting to see things from my perspective, but I could also feel his brain overanalyzing it.

I leaned closer and said firmly, “It’s your mother who is making all the charges. Perhaps she ought to be confident in her own lineage if she’s so fixated on bloodlines. Consequently, you will take a test as well if you want me to.”

Andrew paused, obviously surprised by my request. However, he nodded a moment later. “All right. I’ll do whatever it takes to get there.”

The test results were returned a few days later. The test revealed that Leo was, in fact, Andrew’s son, as predicted.

However, there was yet another surprise that caught everyone off guard.

As it happened, Andrew’s test results revealed that the guy he had named Dad his whole life wasn’t actually his biological father.

He blurted, “What the hell, Zoe?”

I casually said, “This is a conversation for you and your mother.”

I didn’t want to get sucked further into Denise’s drama, much as I wanted to know the truth and about Leo’s biological grandfather. Thank you, but no. I have my son to take care of. Furthermore, there was an aspect of Denise’s behavior that I would not readily forgive.

Nevertheless, my curiosity finally got the better of me, and I questioned Andrew about his talk with his mother. It was discovered that she had an affair when she was younger, which produced Andrew.

“She claimed that although she had always had suspicions, she was afraid to take a DNA test while my father was still living. Imagine for a moment that I’ve spent my entire life believing that my father was nothing more than my father. However, not in a biological sense. Zoe, I’m unable to forgive her.”

I was really sorry for him.

“So, what does this mean?” I enquired.

It implies that we deny my mother our time and space. We concentrate on our youngster. It was her who turned on our family. Not us,” he uttered.

I gave a nod, content to go on and concentrate on our family.

It seems that Denise’s guilt had been plaguing her for many years, causing her to transfer her fears onto both our son and me.

How would you have responded in that situation?