After about an hour I had loaded the van and went into the house expecting to see my mother in law still in her slacks, but to my pleasure and surpris... she had changed into a navy blue knee length pleated skirt. “Have you loaded it all sweetheart?” she said. “Yes Betty you can see the floor in your garage again.” I said. “I’ll make us another cuppa you must be parched.” She said walking into the kitchen, I followed her in, noticing she wasn’t wearing any tights just her tartan furry granny. I figured that it would pass, and as long as she didn't expect me to return the favor, I would be okay with it. I just wouldn't kiss her right afterward.As always, my woman's Neapolitan heritage showed up in her cooking. Early on in our relationship, I tried to be somewhat egalitarian in the kitchen sense, helping out and so forth. Desiree soon disabused me of such rubbish, as she thought of it. In her mind, it was her second most sacred duty to fill my belly, superseded only by a woman's. More

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