I approached my mother-in-law with a glass of red wine — supposedly to “make peace,” clink glasses, take a photo. She leaned forward slightly, and in that moment I “accidentally” brushed her with my hand.

Splashes of red wine — straight onto her white dress.

“Oh!” — she gasped, wiping the fabric. “How clumsy…”

I immediately suggested:

“There’s a mirror and napkins in the bathroom. Go check, maybe it will come out.”