The Schiavo In-Laws
by Bob Cook

The autopsy on Terri Schiavo should be the end of the story on the woman who unwittingly taught us all the meaning of "persistent vegetative state." Alas, it won't be the end, and not just because her parents aren't accepting the report that their daughter was severely brain damaged to the point of her having no hope of recovery.

The fascination over Schiavo will continue because it taps into a common tragedy endemic to American families — the inability of in-laws to get along.

If you're married, you know how these conflicts escalate. One day you're arguing with your spouse's parents over their demand you and said spouse come over for dinner every Sunday. The next day, protesters are on your front stoop demanding you and your spouse see your in-laws for Sunday dinner. The day after that, Congress is in emergency session, parsing language for legislation giving your in-laws the authority to decide when you and your spouse are to come over for Sunday dinner. The day after that, when the judge issues an injunction against the bill, protesters are getting arrested as they come to your door to deliver variations on your mother-in-law's three-bean casserole.

The chasm between the late Terry's husband, Michael, and her parents, Bob and Mary Schindler, is hardly unique. It's long been a cliché that the parents of one partner in a marriage are not to get along with the spouse. For example, "Hagar the Horrible's" mother-in-law jokes are cribbed from 13th century Viking eddas.

Just like living together is not really being married, not really being married is not really having in-laws. Sure, all may go well with the in-laws during the dating process — assuming one of you isn't some harlot or bike-gang member leading their baby astray — but once the rings are on, the gloves are off.

Something has to be done about this, if not for the memory of Terri Schiavo, then to keep married people from wasting countless hours of work and billions of dollars in productivity slapping their foreheads as they get sucked into another spouse/in-law dispute.

In some parts of the world, something already is done, and has been done for a long time — paying a brideprice. Nothing tells the in-laws you're no longer allowed to butt in like sending a few cows in their direction. The deal is simple: I give you livestock, you give me no grief.

Of course, the brideprice gets a bad rap because of its inherently sexist and dehumanizing nature, equating women to some piece of property to be traded, like a mere professional athlete. If nothing else, a brideprice is seen as an anachronism, something only done by primitive peoples, like the dollar dance with the bride. Plus, in-laws living in a city or suburb probably can't keep the cows on account of their presence being a zoning violation. Rural in-laws, on the other hand, are probably set on cattle.

So in the absence of the brideprice, perhaps what a married couple seeking clarity should do is sign a pre-nuptial agreement — with the in-laws.

The pre-nup between the spouses and in-laws would clearly set boundaries. It could determine the number of visits between the parties, how often they may occur and whether ringing the doorbell is required. It could set terms involving any future children, such as in-laws' rights and requirements in regards to babysitting and buying really loud toys. It could set terms on who can comment on which party's sudden weight gain. And it could set terms for holiday celebrations and, yes, Sunday dinners. If the document has a clause determining who has ultimate authority over a spouse, a separate living will might not be necessary.

Now a pre-nuptial agreement often is seen as something just as degrading as a brideprice. Even worse, you can't kill it and eat it if you have to. But it does hold up in court. Though the point is to keep in-laws out of court, rather than get sucked into a legal maelstrom as those around Terri Schiavo did, a pre-nup can at least make sure any hearing is short and sweet.

Remember, all the problems surrounding Terri Schiavo started with a lack of legal documentation about her wishes. Had she and her husband signed a pre-nup with their respective in-laws, we all could have been spared a lot of pain. If you're about to be wed, signing such an agreement could spare you a lot of pain, too. Starting with your mother-in-law's three-bean casserole.

E-mail Bob Cook at bobc@flakmag.com.