Culinary Opinions

On the drive today, the matriarch asked me which meal I thought was my worst; she hates lunch the most. Considering, it is almost always soup, tinned at her request. Not my problem. My cooking is not that bad; although, today had me on the defensive. My husband and children recollected the time my mother-in-law mistook a chicken dish for fish. Admittedly, never a good sign, they all still ate the food and thought the matriarch was hysterically funny. No sympathy there.

My mother-in-law awoke to the startling sunshine in her room this morning; except, my mother-in-law sleeps with closed blinds and the sun was not shining in her room. Then, on our drive, she could not see the very bright day. I know it is not easy going blind but not admitting it is dangerous, too. It takes almost twenty minutes for my mother-in-law to navigate from my front door to the van without help. Of course, she will take help if it is thrust upon her but she is not happy; the matriarch doesn't want to admit she needs help; she still likes to believe she is independent. On last night's news, she heard about some seniors in their nineties and early hundreds; they were in good health, one with glasses, the other's sight still good, and enjoying life. My mother-in-law called them old. She in no way viewed them as compatriots in the fight to endure.