Help! I Just Had a Run-In With a Monster Lady at the Grocery Store. I Thought It Was Over … Boy Was I Wrong.

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Dear Prudence is Slate’s advice column. For this edition, Jenny G. Zhang, a Slate senior editor for culture, will be filling in as Prudie. Submit questions here. (It’s anonymous!)

A few days ago, I had a run-in with an absolutely awful woman while I was at the grocery store. She cut in front of me in line, and when I pointed it out, she disparaged my appearance and told me off. It was just one of those things you should chalk up to bad luck and move on from, right? Except I can’t—and the reason has me freaking out.

I’m going to be meeting my boyfriend’s parents for the first time at Thanksgiving. Yesterday, he showed me some photos from their celebration last year, and the woman from the grocery store is his mother! I haven’t said anything. Do I need to tell him about what happened, or would it be best to keep quiet and hope she doesn’t recognize me when we come over?

Oh my god. This is a nightmare scenario, but also sort of an incredible opportunity to put your relationship to the test. Yes, you should tell your boyfriend! Will he defend his mother’s behavior, tell you to ignore it, or navigate this tricky situation steadfastly on your side? Whichever path he chooses, that is functionally a preview of what your future with him and your potential mother-in-law will look like. I hope it is enlightening.

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I own my own place. It is a two-bedroom, two-bath in the heart of downtown. I love the walkability, the diversity, and vibrant culture. But it makes my mother miserable.

Every time she visits since she retired, all I get is a litany of complaints: There is no greenery, no balcony, it is too expensive, too small, the elevator takes too long, etc. Except she can’t stop visiting because my brothers love to send their kids to stay over and see the sights. My mother is often the chaperone.

I actually love having the kids over, and I cherish the chance to show off my city or get a free event ticket or two. My late husband and I never had kids, and the idea of doing it solo just made me sad. They recently visited for a big Halloween event. I picked them up Friday and packed them off Sunday.

My mother did not have a single kind word. We ended up having a big fight because I didn’t have a waffle iron, flour, or eggs. The kids had milk, individual boxes of cereal, fruit, and bagels. I live alone and generally don’t cook. I get pre-made meals. Why in hell would I have a waffle iron? I told my mother that no one was asking her to move in with me, but could she just shut up with the negativity while I was hosting? We stopped when we realized the kids were up.

I texted my mom that her constant complaints were extremely hurtful and uncomfortable for me. Her response was that I was taking it the wrong way. My brothers just say that is how old people get. I am ready to say that the fun times and the free hotel are over then, and that Auntie will find something else to do. I love my mother, but right now I can’t stand the thought of her staying here again.

You say you can’t stand the thought of her staying with you again. The good news is that you don’t have to! This is your home, not hers, so, to put it politely, your mother can kick rocks. Next time, she can book her own hotel room while your nieces and/or nephews stay with you.If you can’t take care of the kids without her, or if your brothers have a rule that your mom has to chaperone, then your brothers can go ahead and book a bigger hotel room for the kids to stay in, too. That at least might get your brothers to stop playing such a passive role. (Of course they’ve been content to brush off all your concerns—they’ve been enjoying some free childcare because of it!) I think you’ll find they’re suddenly a lot more open to the idea of either letting you have the kids solo or talking to your mother about her behavior.

I’m a straight woman who recently matched with a guy on Tinder, “Joe,” and through sexting—which is all we’ve done so far—we’ve discovered that Joe really likes hearing stories of my past sexual experiences. I was happy to oblige and share details of hookups I’ve had in the past. As part of one story, I sent Joe a screenshot of a brief text exchange I had with a paramour (with his name cut out). With another past hookup, we had sex in the back of his car, and I later discovered that my phone made a voice memo recording…

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