When they invited my mom to his mother’s 60th birthday dinner while we were out of town, I warned her about their routine. She just laughed and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”
The night went exactly as expected. My in-laws ordered lavishly—gold-flaked steak, vintage wine—and slipped out when the $1500 bill came. But my mom didn’t flinch. Instead, she ordered dessert and called over the manager—Robbie, a former student from her teaching days.
Robbie contacted my in-laws, informing them that if they didn’t return to settle the bill, the police would be notified. They rushed back, humiliated, and paid—plus a 25% inconvenience fee.
The next morning, my mother-in-law called, insisting, “We always pay our way.”
Miraculously, from then on, every dinner started with her declaring, “Separate checks, please!” The waiter would nod, and Dan and I would exchange a grin. Thanks to Mom, the freeloading era was over.
