The World's Greatest Mother-in-Law-to-Be
"So, Mom," I began.
"What is it this time?"
I was sprawled out on the floor of my childhood home. Ever since the hazy, fluttery atmosphere of marriage started settling over me, I’d found myself visiting my parents' place more often. Setting aside my dad, who asked if we’d set a date every single time he saw my face, I mostly just wanted to chat with Mom. For the first time in ages, I was hogging her lap as a pillow.
Mom indulged her grown daughter’s clinginess while simultaneously folding towels with effortless grace. I looked up at her and asked another question. I just threw it out there, feeling an urge to stick close to her today.
"Mom, why did you marry Dad?"
"Hm?"
"Honestly, Dad isn't exactly handsome, is he? Right now, he’s basically a pot-bellied middle-aged man. And I heard you guys got married pretty young, too? Why him, of all people?"
He’s my father, but I couldn't help but be objective in front of Mom. Aside from the moles, people have always said I’m the spitting image of her since I was a child, and in my eyes, she’s still beautiful. Consequently, the reputation of being "Mom’s double" has been my lifelong pride. It’s also the source of the confidence I’ve had since I was little.
"Hmm~ I suppose so, isn't it?"
She spoke with a tone that treated her own husband like a complete stranger, as if she were suddenly reflecting on the past. She pondered for a long moment before saying, "Back then, Mom really needed money."
"So it was money after all?"
"As you know, my family was so poor we worried about paying for a single semester of college tuition. On the other hand, your father had money to burn. And he was young back then, so he wasn't bad-looking. Unlike now, where he looks like a twisted, liver-rotted flatfish."
It was a truly ruthless assessment. Hearing that, I thought it was a marriage perfectly orchestrated for money, but—
"But you see, Mom had plenty of men like that around her already."
"Oh? Did men line up with stacks of cash?"
"They did. Every time I turned around, they were busy pestering me just like your father. Some of them had faces like... what was it? Cha something? Anyway, there were plenty of 'perfect hexagonal' men who looked like modern idols. They even showed up at my school; it was annoying."
She folded one more towel neatly before continuing, "Your father is called 'Boss' now, but if you looked at the conditions back then, there were far better men than him. They all showed their true colors wherever I went."
"? Then why, of all people, did you marry Dad?"
"That’s a mystery even to me."
Mom picked up the last towel. She held it there, not finishing the fold, and stared blankly at the ceiling.
"To get rid of all the men pestering me, I thought seriously about dating, but for some reason, the face of that man who shyly handed me his phone number kept flickering in my mind. I even drew up a chart to weigh things coldly, but I could only think of your father’s face."
"...Did you eat something wrong back then?"
"Hmm~ Maybe, but after thinking it over and meeting him, it wasn't bad. He’d just beam at me like he was going to die, and he treated me like a queen, which felt nice."
She smiled faintly. "As we dated, I just grew to like him. I guess the heart can't be calculated exactly with money."
A simple, concise love story. Maybe because they’re my parents, I felt a strange sense of warmth; it was more innocent than I’d expected.
"So, Mom, did you go all the way to marriage with just that feeling?"
"No, I married him because I got pregnant with you."
She let out a short sigh. "Your father was in such a rush. He was so afraid I’d leave him that he’d pounce on me anytime, anywhere, and that’s how you happened. I was full of youthful vigor too, I shouldn't have indulged him so much."
"..."
That’s spicy. I’d vaguely known that based on my birth date, Mom had me quite early, but I hadn't realized it was an accident. I also decided that growing up hearing such spicy, suggestive jokes might be why I like dark humor so much.
"Hmm~ Anyway, Son Seungwoo, my son-in-law, seems like a really good person."
After folding the last towel, Mom smoothly shifted the topic. Looking down at me, she pierced the very core of the subject she’d brought up unconsciously.
"I put it down earlier, but you only got pregnant because I opened my heart. You’ve fallen for that man’s mysterious charm, haven't you? It’s hard to express it all properly, but isn't it just the feeling that you want to keep going with this man?"
"..."
That was exactly it. This vague feeling that couldn't be converted into material factors. Mom had pinpointed the very heart of this feeling I’d been wondering if I was wrong about. She pierced it, and then, as if it were no problem at all, she gently nudged me forward.
"Hahaha, didn't I keep telling you? No matter how much you enjoy your freedom, you’d eventually bring home a man to marry."
"...Mmm."
She asked me like she was teasing a three-year-old, so I turned my head away. I’m already thirty, but no matter how old I get, she only sees me as her little daughter, and my heart was laid bare.
'It’s annoying, but it’s really going exactly as she said...'
I’ve always been fickle, but as Mom said, it seems hard to calculate. I’ve met plenty of men who were better in terms of specs or looks, but I’d never once thought of the word "marriage." It was just because it was *him*. As this tingling sensation grew into certainty, a ring had ended up on my finger. Looking at this thin gold ring, I just felt happy. Watching it reflect the light here and there, then closing my eyes and thinking about it, a calm happiness spread through me—
"Oh! I heard, is it true that Son Seungwoo’s penis is thick and impressive?"
"Pfft!?"
I jumped up in shock. What kind of preposterous nonsense was this? I glared at Mom, but she was as calm as a lake without a single ripple.
"W-what are you talking about all of a sudden?!"
"Well, your father said he went to the sauna to see for himself if he’d found a proper son-in-law. He was so happy, swearing that he’d definitely get to see his grandchildren."
The wording was so blunt it felt like sexual harassment for a future son-in-law.
"..."
Still, I couldn't deny it. I felt a surge of anger at my big-mouthed father for sharing such information, but—
"Do you have a picture?"
"W-what?!"
Mom went one step further. She demanded it as if it were her absolute right, very calmly.
"I kept hearing about it, so I got curious about how great it is. It’s hard for me to see it in person, so share a photo with me."
"Why would I show my mother my husband’s genitals?! Mom, haven't you gone too far this time?!"
"Let’s see... does your phone unlock with face recognition?"
"—Kyaaak!? Don't you dare take my phone!"
I snatched my phone away just as she was trying to bypass the lock. Mom puffed out her cheeks, looking cutely out of place for her age, and complained.
"Aww, that’s stingy. Then I’m the only one in the family who will never see it. The son-in-law’s penis."
"My husband isn't a chimpanzee at the zoo!"
"Aww, that’s really stingy. I married a rich man and raised you with such care in a wealthy environment, and you’re just going to hog it all to yourself?"
"Don't spout sophistry, Mom! No matter what you say, I’m not showing you!"
"Ah, so you married him because of that penis!"
"W-w-what kind of nonsense is that!"
I stood up abruptly, and we bickered. Like returning to childhood, I squabbled with Mom half-jokingly. Unlike Dad, who had doted on me since I was little, Mom had always treated me like a friend, so at times like this, it felt like she was playing the role of an older sister I never had.
"Phew... fine. I’ll give up for now. As time passes, your guard will come down, right?"
"...My guard will never come down on this part, Mom."
"Hmph, whatever. ...Oh! Since it looks like you’re about to set a wedding date, let me give you one last piece of strong advice as your mother."
If our bickering until now had been half-playful, this was dead serious. She grabbed both my hands, as if she had something she absolutely wanted to convey to her daughter about to be married. I hate serious talks. But it was so rare for Mom to be like this that I got tense. But then, Mom suddenly clenched her fist and held it out in front of me.
"If you get even a hint that your husband is coming home late after drinking, crush him from the start."
"..."
"If he ever comes home even slightly drunk, kicking him out is an option. Tell him to throw all his luggage out and go live somewhere else. You have to give him a strong shock from the beginning so he’ll come to his senses."
Mom usually has a smiling face. But when she said this, a vein she couldn't hide popped out on her forehead. She gripped my hands tightly, and her fist trembled as if she were shivering with rage. It seemed that not being able to control Dad’s drinking until this age was her lifelong regret, and she was engraving it deeply into her daughter.
'Mom, that’s advice that only applies to you...'
To begin with, we don't enjoy drinking that much. We loosened up with alcohol at our first meeting, and we have time together to set the mood, but we don't drink heavily. If anything, 'alcohol = sex,' so if we say let’s drink, it’s just a device to introduce that atmosphere. We just get a light buzz and giggle, playing around. That’s how it is for now. When I relayed this fact to Mom, turning it around slightly—
"Hmm, this mother compromised with money next to a 'drinking toad' who kept alcohol as a mistress, and my daughter went looking for a large penis gene just to enjoy herself."
"...The wording is violent, Mom."
"Phew... life is truly unfair."
Mom started tidying up the house, saying she had to prepare dinner in time for Dad’s return. But as luck would have it, after this conversation, Dad returned smelling faintly of soju and was immediately kicked out. Dad desperately made excuses, saying he was excited about my upcoming marriage, but Mom and I didn't accept it, and Dad ended up sleeping in a tent in the yard that day.
'Still the same as ever~♥'
It was truly like our family.