MIL: ‘Oh no, my WALLET!’ FIL: ‘Mine’s in the car!’ SIL: ‘Emergency call!’
They all turned their heads toward my mom, wearing practiced looks of panic and distress, waiting for her to say the magic words: “It’s okay, I’ll put it on my card.”
The waiter stood there awkwardly, the heavy leather bill folder hovering in the air. The total was undoubtedly massive—lobster and aged steaks aren’t cheap.
My mom didn’t reach for her purse. She didn’t even look up from her dessert. She just took a calm, deliberate sip of her coffee and said, “Oh, that is unfortunate.”
The silence stretched out. The MIL’s eyes widened a fraction. “Well… we can’t possibly leave the bill unpaid, can we? It would be so embarrassing.”
“It certainly would be,” my mom agreed cheerfully.
The SIL, trying to force the issue, added, “I’d run out to get mine, but this call is urgent. Surely you can cover us just this once, and we’ll Venmo you?”
My mom finally set her cup down and smiled that same sweet smile she gave me before she left. She turned to the waiter.
“Check, please.”
The in-laws let out a collective sigh of relief. The MIL even chuckled, “Oh, thank you, dear! You’re a lifesaver.”
But the waiter didn’t hand the folder to my mom. Instead, he pulled a small, crisp slip of paper from his apron pocket and placed it gently next to my mom’s coffee cup.
“Here is your receipt, ma’am,” the waiter said. “Paid in full.”
The table went dead silent.
“I’m sorry?” the FIL sputtered. “Paid?”
“Yes,” my mom said, standing up and smoothing her dress. “When I arrived early, I asked the waiter to open a separate tab just for me. I paid for my salad and my pasta before the appetizers even hit the table. I knew you all had a history of… memory loss… regarding your wallets, so I didn’t want to complicate things.”
She grabbed her purse and patted the MIL on the shoulder.
“Happy Birthday! I’m sure you’ll find a way to sort this out. Maybe check the car?”
She walked out the front door, leaving them to explain to the manager why three wealthy adults couldn’t pay for their own lobster.
The best part? My husband and I got a frantic text from his sister ten minutes later asking to borrow $500. We left it on read.
