The exchange between Leah and Rachel over the mandrakes is one of the rawest sibling arguments in Genesis. The Targum Pseudo-Jonathan preserves the Aramaic bite.
Is it a little thing that thou hast taken my husband, and thou seekest to take also my son's mandrakes?
Leah's bitterness erupts. All the years of being the less-loved wife are compressed into one sentence. Rachel has Jacob's heart. Leah has Jacob's sons. Now Rachel wants the mandrakes too — a small token of fertility that Leah's son has brought her. Leah cannot give up one more thing.
Notice Leah's framing: thou hast taken my husband. In the plain history, Rachel was supposed to marry Jacob first, and Leah was slipped into the marriage by Laban. So who exactly took whom? From Rachel's view, Leah stole her wedding. From Leah's view, Rachel has stolen her husband's affection ever since.
Both sisters are grieving the same marriage from opposite sides.
Then Rachel's answer — and this is the moment the whole scene turns. Therefore shall he lie with thee this night for thy son's mandrakes. Rachel offers what looks like a stunning trade: a night with their shared husband in exchange for some roots.
Remember what Rachel did on the wedding night. She gave Leah the signs. She chose Leah's dignity over her own. Now she is doing something similar. She is giving Leah a night with Jacob — a night that will produce another tribe. Rachel's apparent coldness is actually another sacrifice.
And in the verses that follow, that night produces Issachar, the tribe of Torah scholars. Rachel's gift became a scholar.
The takeaway: behind many family fights are two women carrying unbearable loads. The trade of mandrakes was not just a bargain. It was one more layer of Rachel's long generosity toward her sister.