I should’ve nipped it in the bud. As soon as you began I should’ve told you outright that you were barking up the wrong tree. But I didn’t.

And now no matter how the casual banter starts no matter what we’re discussing you cleverly steer each conversation to the same redundant topic: our shvigger.

At first I thought it was a one-time occurrence that you had been hurt and I could possibly smooth things over. So I allowed you to vent. I was wrong. I’ve been in the family for a handful of years now and I now realize that you always “need to vent.”

I have a hard time understanding the pleasure you take in magnifying the negativity of every family event in picking apart myriad regular incidents as if you’re color-sorting an assortment of Perler beads.

You take pleasure in pointing out our mother-in-law’s errors; you highlight her blunders with such enthusiasm — as if no other human being ever erred. You seem to eagerly wait for something to go wrong so you can relay yet another piece of juicy gossip.

And I’m perplexed.

Why when our mother-in-law expresses genuine concern and asks how you’re feeling are you adamant that there’s an underlying malevolent reason to her question?

Why when she sends you soup do you focus on the reused disposable container instead of the heart that went into the food?

Why when she hosts you for Shabbos are you on guard trying to sniff out the ways her home is mismanaged instead of appreciating that she’s granting you a vacation?

Why do you feel the need to mention that “she got it for a greatly reduced price” when you show off the fine sweater set she purchased for your baby?

Why do you detect criticism in the compliments she sends your way via your husband?

Why do her personal purchases bother you so much? Is it your business if what she spends is within her budget or not?

Why when she’s a little short on food due to unexpected guests do you instantly label her stingy?

Why do you literally rejoice when her own children throw a barbed comment her way?

Seriously are the little slipups she makes so terrible? Don’t they ever happen to your own mother?

You’d like to believe that I’m obtuse because I rejoice in the rare gifts she bestows upon me not caring if she gets them for free. You claim I’m naive because I believe that she has good intentions when she inquires about my wellbeing or offers a compliment. You shake your head in disbelief when I view our shvigger as a good but imperfect human being — just like all the rest of us.

Honestly I don’t know which one of us has it all wrong. But I suggest you find pleasure in other things. Or at least don’t share your thoughts with me. Because I never want to acclimate to the trend of shvigger bad-mouthing.

And because very soon you’ll be carrying the title “shvigger” yourself.

Sincerely

Your Perplexed Sister-in-Law (Originally featured in Family First Issue 551)