When my mother-in-law came to visit and saw my husband washing the dishes, she snatched them and smashed all the dishes, calling me out and saying, “Can you be my wife or should I marry another wife for my son?”

“Can you be my wife…?” – A Filipino-style saas-bahu storm in the kitchen

That evening, after dinner at the Mandaluyong apartment, I was still cleaning in the kitchen when my husband – Marco – rolled up his sleeves and stood by the sink, creating sparkling Joy dishwashing liquid on the stainless steel pinggan and mangkok. I was happy that he knew how to share the housework. At that moment, my mother-in-law – everyone called Nanay Lourdes – suddenly stopped by.

As soon as she entered the sala and saw her son washing the dishes, her face darkened. Without saying a word, she walked straight forward, snatched the bowl from Marco’s hand and threw it on the tiled floor with a “clang”. She threw the pile of dishes on the sink and shouted:

“What kind of dignity is this house? My son has to do the dishes? Can you be a wife or should I find another wife for my son!”

The sound of dishes breaking and her shrill voice made me speechless. I quickly ran out, Marco panicked and held my mother’s hand:

“Mom, what are you doing? I just helped Aira wash a little…”

But Nanay Lourdes pushed his hand away, her eyes bulging:

“Chup! It’s embarrassing for a man to be like this! I’m telling you…” – she pointed straight at my face – “If you let my son do any more housework, don’t blame me for finding someone else who knows how to be a wife to replace you!”

I trembled, my throat choked. My body was burning, and resentment welled up and choked me up. Suddenly, Marco stood in front of me, his voice harsh:

“You’re too much! This is my wife, this house is ours. I did it voluntarily, no one forced me. If you continue to look down on my wife like that, please don’t interfere anymore!”

The apartment suddenly fell silent, tense as a bowstring. Nanay Lourdes glared, her hands shaking with anger. I was stunned – both hurt and moved that my husband dared to stand up to protect me.

After the bowl smashing and the shouting, my mother-in-law left that night, her face sullen, not even looking back. I crouched down beside the pile of broken pieces, tears streaming down my face.

The next morning, the whole family knew about the incident – ​​the news spread quickly through the family’s Viber and the gossipy kapitbahays. A few Tita called and complained:

“What kind of daughter-in-law makes her mother-in-law so angry? What would happen if a man did a woman’s job?”

In the afternoon, Nanay Lourdes brought two Tita and three Dita to the family meeting right at my sala. She sat in the middle of the sofa, her voice harsh:

“My son married a wife to take care of the house, not to be a maid for his wife. He washed the dishes once, so what next time? If this girl doesn’t change, I swear I will marry him another wife – someone who is more sensible!”

I bit my lip until it bled, my hands shaking. Before I could open my mouth, Tita chimed in:

“You’re still young, you don’t have any children. If you don’t know what’s right, you’ll lose your husband in no time. There are plenty of men these days who want to marry you.”

Each word was like a knife piercing my heart. I tried to stay calm, my throat choking. Just then, Marco came home from work. Seeing the whole family surrounding him, his face paled. He walked straight into the middle, his voice cold:

“Mom, I beg you not to drag relatives into our private affairs anymore. Aira is not wrong. I wash the dishes because I want to, no one forced me. If you insist on sharing is humiliating, then I will say it straight: you are looking down on your own son!”

The room fell silent. The Tita ladies looked at each other, no one dared to speak. Nanay Lourdes trembled with anger, pointed her finger straight at me, her voice seemed to shout:

“Very good! From now on, I will consider this daughter-in-law no longer in the house!”

After saying that, she stood up and left. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, Joy dishwashing liquid and masala chai were cooling on the table.

I sat down, my eyes red – both humiliated and confused. I knew this Nanay–Manugang (mother-in-law – daughter-in-law) battle had only just begun; I still had to face many stormy days ahead. But at least today I know I’m not alone: ​​Marco stood by me, as a respectful and companionable husband.