The Ungrateful Daughter-in-law
“Oh, there it is again, that frown!” grumbled Barbara Smith. “A thank you would be nice. All you do is pull faces!”
Charlotte struggled to keep her composure as she looked at her mother-in-law. It frustrated her endlessly that Oliver’s mum couldn’t resist pushing her well-meaning deeds onto their family.
Like today, she’d brought in a cat, although no one had asked for it. A couple of days ago, cockroaches had started coming in from the new neighbors. They had just moved in and were tidying up a flat that hadn’t been lived in for a while. They decided to deal with the uninvited guests, and they somehow ended up at Charlotte and Oliver’s place, which he’d mentioned to his mum by chance. But what’s that got to do with a cat?
“Cockroaches aren’t mice; why do we need a cat for them?”
“What do you mean? Everyone knows cats eat cockroaches!” insisted her mother-in-law confidently.
“I’ve lived with cats all my life and have never seen them eat cockroaches!” Charlotte replied, shaking her head. “And that’s not even the point. You’ve forgotten Oliver is allergic to fur!”
“He can put up with it for a bit in this situation!”
“Oh no, Barbara. You’re taking that cat back to where it came from. If we wanted a pet, we’d have gotten one ourselves!” Charlotte retorted firmly.
“It’s not your decision to make! Oliver will be home soon; he’ll sort this out.”
Half an hour later, Oliver returned from work. Barbara had spent the entire time dashing around with the cat, searching for the neighbors’ cockroaches, even though Charlotte had gotten rid of them all yesterday and laid traps just in case.
Barbara didn’t find a single cockroach but tried to convince herself and Charlotte that they were simply hiding and would emerge during the night. That’s when Whiskers would prove useful. She’d even named the cat…
Oliver didn’t notice the new resident right away. He hung up his coat and headed to the bathroom to wash his hands when he suddenly stepped into something wet.
“Charlotte, did you spill something in the bathroom?” he shouted, turning on the tap.
His wife rushed over and, seeing the puddle, immediately guessed the culprit.
“No, your mum had a little accident!”
“What?” He chuckled. “The loo’s right there!”
“She’s found a new way to ruin our day!” complained his wife.
“What happened now?”
“She’ll tell you herself soon. You’d better take those socks off and burn them!”
“Burn them?”
Oliver looked at his wife, puzzled. He washed his hands, slipped off a sock, and gave it a sniff. A familiar scent, but… yuck!
He tossed a towel over the puddle, washed his hands again, then his foot with soap, and headed into the kitchen. His mum sat on a chair, stroking the gray cat behind the ear. The cat was sporting a particularly grumpy expression.
“Mum?”
“Son, let me explain! Remember those cockroaches you mentioned? Whiskers here will catch them all! I guarantee it!”
Oliver listened to his mother, eyes blinking, before suddenly sneezing loudly, followed by another.
“Well, while your Whiskers is snacking on cockroaches, your son is at risk of an allergy attack!” quipped Charlotte. “There’s a reason we don’t have pets!”
“Oh come on, he’ll manage!” Barbara insisted, indignantly.
Oliver sneezed again and again until he couldn’t take it any longer.
“Mum, get the cat out of here! Now!”
“What about the cockroaches?”
“Get it out, I said! Quickly!”
Sighing in annoyance, Barbara headed to the front door. She put the cat out into the hallway and returned to the kitchen.
“Well, don’t come crying to me when you have more cockroaches than dust in your flat!”
“We don’t have dust!” Charlotte noted.
“Keep quiet! You don’t appreciate my help at all!” Barbara retorted, offended.
“Where did you even find that cat? It’s a housecat, it’ll get lost!”
“Oh, it was just sitting by the entrance!” muttered Barbara. “I only borrowed it…”
Charlotte didn’t respond, although inside she was seething. It was typical of her mother-in-law to bring a random cat into her son’s home. A bit eccentric, perhaps bordering on outlandish.
“Mum, maybe it’s time to stop ‘helping’ us?” Oliver ventured.
Charlotte had complained about his mother more than once. She had a knack for riling people up. Not long ago, they’d gone away for a weekend, and Barbara had come over and decided to defrost and clean the fridge. Apparently, she thought Charlotte never did it, so someone had to. She forgot, however, that their fridge didn’t need defrosting as it was frost-free.
She’d turned it off and settled in to watch TV. She took out all the shelves for quicker defrosting.
Watching TV, she dozed off briefly. Woken by her husband’s call, he requested pies for dinner. Thinking the fridge could wait, she dashed home, made pies, and was so tired she planned to return to her son’s flat the next day.
Charlotte and Oliver returned several hours earlier than expected. Barbara hadn’t yet finished her mischief. Her head had been aching all morning, to top it off. They walked in to a terrible smell—the food had spoiled overnight.
The worst part was that Charlotte’s mum had recently visited and brought two kilos of red caviar. Too much to eat at once, they’d decided to freeze it. Better than it going bad. Plus, Mrs. Dawson had assured them it would be fine in the freezer—they did the same.
Charlotte hailed from Devon. Her parents still lived there, so they often brought exotic delicacies as gifts. All thanks to Barbara, they lost two kilos of caviar, three smoked trout, and about six frozen perch. Such a pity!
Charlotte almost cried when she realized her mother-in-law brought nothing but loss. Her mum had put in such effort, and for what!
Naturally, Barbara Smith had a thousand and one excuses. She didn’t even apologize. After that incident, Oliver, without asking, took back their spare keys, yet the keys didn’t stop her from continuing her “good deeds.”
Now she did everything openly. Once she bought sardines on sale from Tesco. Oliver loved them and ate nearly the whole can. Charlotte checked the date a bit late—it was well past its expiry. They hoped it hadn’t spoiled yet. Well, it sure did spoil—only in the literal sense. Oliver spent three days bedridden with a fever, and they even had to call an ambulance once.
A couple of weeks ago, Barbara asked to visit to take a bath. Their hot water was turned off, and she wanted a proper soak. Oliver had recently installed a boiler. They, of course, let her. Who knew she’d bring her own bath-cleaning concoction—a potent powder.
Anyway, she’d locked herself in and decided to clean the bath before using it. She realized too late something was amiss. Then, she decided to stay quiet. She claimed she wasn’t to blame, but Charlotte knew right away who’d damaged their acrylic bath.
“Why did you touch it?” the daughter-in-law asked indignantly. “I cleaned it before you arrived!”
“I know how you clean! You just smear the grime around!”
Oliver was upset too, but what could he do? Demanding his mother buy a new one was out of the question. So, they continued with their battered bathtub, waiting for payday to replace it. Then there were the cockroaches and now the cat debacle. Charlotte was beyond fed up.
“Barbara, maybe you should stop helping us altogether?” she asked seriously. “Oliver and I aren’t kids. We know what to do!”
“There, I said it! Ungrateful daughter-in-law! You should be grateful! Yet here you are, pulling a face!”
“Grateful for what? The two kilos of red caviar that went down the toilet? The acrylic bath you ruined? The sardine that left your son ill? And these aren’t even all your ‘achievements’! Maybe it’s enough already?”
“Should I stop visiting you, then?” sulked the mother-in-law.
“Actually, not a bad idea. Perhaps we should visit you instead?”
“Yes, Mum, I like that idea too!”
“And you too?” Barbara glared at her son. “Really, I didn’t expect this from you! Fine, you’ll see no more of me in your home!”
With that, Barbara stood up and hurried to the hallway. She hoped they’d try to stop her, maybe even apologize, but neither of them saw her out.
As the door clicked shut behind her, the couple sighed in relief. Oliver spent the evening sneezing, and they discovered another wet spot under the bed in the bedroom. Charlotte had to do a thorough clean to rid their flat of all the fur, but at least Barbara was upset. Good, let her be, as long as it’s at her place.
