The Tale of a Mother-in-Law. – You won’t believe who I’ve just met.
Katie burst into the house, scrubbed her hands quickly, and dashed straight to the kitchen. Her parents were already seated at the table.
The girl apologised for being late to lunch and eagerly began sharing her astonishing news. “You won’t believe who I’ve just met. My brother’s found himself a girl. Quite pretty, cheerful, with ginger hair—like a little ray of sunshine. Her name’s Emily. She works at the car wash where we take our car. That’s where they met. Seems like it’s all quite serious between them. How wonderful!” Katie chattered away without pause.
Simon, Katie’s father, lifted his head from his plate and grinned approvingly, saying it was about time—he’d begun to question his son’s inclinations. Her mother, Helen, however, was vexed by her husband’s remark and dismayed that their son had taken up with a girl from a car wash.
“Who even works there? Only those who couldn’t find work elsewhere. No education, no manners, no upbringing. And they’re all rather unappealing, frankly. ‘Car wash girls’—that’s what they are. Not one of them is fit to polish our son’s shoes.” Helen couldn’t let it go. Simon disagreed, defending the girl. “Now, that’s unfair. People are different. She might be working there part-time while studying. There’s no shame in honest work—means she understands the value of money. She won’t be pestering our son for funds if she earns her own. And you’ve not even met her. She might be lovely. I doubt our boy would settle for just anyone.”
But Helen remained combative. “Well, I’ll go and see this ‘beauty’ for myself. Find out how she’s snared our son. I’ll have her sacked—no business eyeing up well-off lads. Let her find herself a simpler match.”
True to her word, Helen marched to the car wash the next day. From the doorway, she kicked up a fuss, shouting for this Emily to come out—the girl who was clinging to her son. She demanded she be fired for getting involved with customers. But Marina, who greeted her at the door, said she knew no such girl—perhaps she worked a different shift—and suggested Helen return tomorrow.
Helen, of course, had wanted to shame the “shameless” Emily then and there, but there was nothing for it. She had to retreat empty-handed, as the saying goes. Still, she vowed to return.
Marina later approached Emily and warned her against mixing with customers—it was grounds for dismissal, even stated in their contracts. But Emily explained she and James had been courting for a year. She hadn’t wanted to at first, but he’d been persistent. Now he wanted her to meet his parents, but she was holding off—she meant to finish university, secure a proper job, then make introductions.
For now, she needed this work; she was studying and living in halls, unwilling to take money from her own parents. Marina promised not to report the incident, but Emily had to ask James to speak with his mother—no more outbursts at the car wash.
That evening, James confronted his mother the moment he stepped inside. “What are you playing at? Trying to drive a wedge between us? Emily’s only at the car wash temporarily. Every job’s worthy of respect. You don’t know her—she’s kind and clever. I love her, and if you show up there again, I’ll leave this house, take Emily, and we’ll live together elsewhere. You won’t see us again. Stay out of our affairs. I mean to marry her—that’s final.”
Helen said nothing. She knew her son’s temper—he wouldn’t issue idle threats. He’d do as he said. Losing him was unthinkable, so she resolved never to return to the car wash.
Two years later, James and Emily wed. The groom’s family adored the celebrations. Helen proudly declared her daughter-in-law had helped plan it all. Emily turned out to be not only lovely but brilliant—she’d graduated with top marks, found work at a firm, and now earned as much as her son. Better yet, they were expecting a child—Emily was three months along. James had barely persuaded her to marry; she’d wanted to live together first.
Thank goodness Helen had listened to her son and not meddled.
Simon took Helen’s hand and led her to dance. He whispered in her ear how fortunate he was in his wife—just as his son was in his. They joined the newlyweds’ waltz, spinning gracefully across the floor.
Now, what do you think—should a mother choose her son’s bride?
