My son remains quiet while his wife disrespects me, but he eventually teaches her a lesson in front of the guests

Kate was eagerly awaiting Christmas. It was the first time she would be spending the holidays with her son John and his wife Liz, and she was looking forward to this family time. However, things didn’t go as planned, especially after a sharp remark from Liz about her cooking and John’s silence, as he didn’t stand up for her.

I had always been the one to prepare meals for our family. Since my marriage to Oliver, I had hosted every big dinner, especially at Christmas. But after his death, I had lost the habit of cooking, and now I only made enough to feed myself, without much enthusiasm.

Except at Christmas. On that day, I found the chance to shine behind the stove for my son, John, who came specifically to enjoy the Christmas roast I prepared every year. But this time, something wasn’t going to go as planned.

It was the first Christmas where Liz, John’s new wife, joined us. Until then, she had always spent the holidays with her parents, and I understood that. But this year, I was curious to see how she would fit into our little family circle.

I had gotten up at dawn to prepare everything. The roast chicken was the star of the menu, accompanied by golden potatoes, gravy, and a variety of side dishes—meals that John loved and that I made every year. But Liz, on the other hand, didn’t seem to appreciate it.

As I was putting the final touches on the chicken, Liz entered the kitchen. She was holding her phone in one hand and cast a critical glance around. I saw her slightly wrinkle her nose, as if something was bothering her. I tried to ignore her attitude, but what she said next shook me.

“Kate, I think we should order food. I’m not sure everyone will enjoy what you’ve cooked, and Christmas is a time when everyone should indulge.”

I was in shock. Behind Liz, John was leaning against the doorway, nibbling on a carrot, looking away, completely avoiding my gaze. I felt my eyes welling up, but I swallowed my tears and continued preparing the meal.

A little later, everyone was seated around the table. The food I had spent hours preparing was finally served, and to my satisfaction, all the guests, including John, seemed to be enjoying it.

“The food is excellent, isn’t it?” John called out to the table.

His uncle, helping himself to another portion of roast potatoes, laughed, “How could it not be? It’s my sister who cooked!”

But John continued, “It’s funny because Liz suggested we might want to order takeout. She thought Mom’s meal might ruin dinner.”

The room suddenly went silent, all eyes turned to Liz, who turned red with embarrassment. Despite my anger, I have to admit I felt a bit of sympathy for her. It was her first Christmas with us, and things weren’t going well.

Later, as I cleaned the kitchen, emptying the dishes and loading the dishwasher, Liz joined me. She lowered her eyes, visibly embarrassed, and said softly, “Kate, I’m really sorry. I was very mean.”

I turned to her, still a little hurt, and calmly asked, “Why did you say that, Liz?”

She took a deep breath before replying, “John always talks about your cooking. He keeps saying how perfect you make everything, how special the meals you prepare for him are. Even when I make macaroni and cheese, he compares mine to yours. Seeing everything you’d made, I felt… threatened.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Liz, you know, there’s a unique bond between a boy and his mother’s cooking. But if you’d like, I can teach you my little tricks, just like my own mother passed them down to me.”

She looked at me, surprised. “You’d really do that, after what I said?”

I nodded with a smile. “Of course. We all learn.”

I then led her toward the Christmas tree, ready to give her her gift. Despite what had happened, I realized that Liz hadn’t meant to be unkind. She just felt threatened by John’s attachment to my cooking. But that, I could help her overcome.

And I knew that, despite the pain her words had caused me, this story wouldn’t ruin our Christmas.