Every Sunday her husband took her to his parents house. So clean and tidy with everything in place the abode was lifeless, like a scene in a furniture store showroom. She sat in her chair with her knees together and ankles crossed, listening to her husband's family struggle to find inane topics to create conversation. His mother, a chronic passive-aggressive, would find ways to secretly state an opinion (typically discouraged, opinions were), which was usually uneducated and distasteful.
Every Sunday for many years her husband took her to his parents house and expected her to act like a lady, despite his mother's watchful eye which was quick to find faults to criticize.
Every Sunday she held her tongue, but learned to be demurely subversive.
You can buy Demurely Subversive at my shop either as a magnet or lapel pin.
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