Well, there we go! I exclaimed. Thats how it should be! A man should always have the last word.
My adult grandson, Sam, came to visit us in the village early this morning. Wed only just been to his wedding a few weeks ago. Hed driven in from London for some potatoes as usual because hes always helped his gran and me plant and dig them up each year.
So, come on then, Sam, tell me how youre getting on living with your Emily? Gran asked, fussing about in the kitchen by the cooker.
Well, its different, Gran sometimes this, sometimes that Sam replied hesitantly.
Hold on a tick, I chimed in, putting down my newspaper. What exactly do you mean by different? Are you two already arguing or something?
No, no, not really arguing, more like deciding whos in charge at home, he admitted, shrugging.
Oh goodness, Gran sighed, a hint of mischief in her voice, nothing to decide, is there? Its always obvious.
Too right, I chuckled. Its always been clear in this house the woman is always the boss.
Oh, really Gran called back, amused.
Grandad, are you having me on? Sam looked at me, puzzled. Is that a joke?
Not one bit, I snapped. If you dont believe me, ask your grandmother yourself. Well, Margaret tell him, who has the final say in this house?
Stop talking such nonsense, Gran called, half-laughing.
No, I want to hear it, I insisted. Who makes the big decisions, you or me?
Well, I suppose its me.
Hows that then? Sam said, surprised. Ive never noticed anything like that here. Ive always thought a man should be the head of the house.
Oh, Sam, come on, I laughed again. A real family doesnt work quite like you think. Let me tell you a few stories, and youll see what I mean.
Story
Here we go, Gran mumbled with a friendly sigh. Now hes bound to tell you about the motorbike.
What motorbike? Sam looked confused.
Oh, the one rusting away in the shed, I replied. Its ancient now. Do you know how your gran talked me into buying that bike in the first place?
Gran? Talked you into it?
Thats right. She gave me the cash herself. Out of her own purse. But theres more to it than that let me tell you from the beginning.
One time, Id saved up enough money for a motorbike with a sidecar. I said to Margaret, Im going to buy one, be handy for bringing home the spuds from the allotment. Back then, we had plots quite far from the house.
Your gran wasnt keen she said we ought to get a colour telly instead, and that cost a fortune at the time. She said, Youve always managed to haul potatoes home on that old bike, havent you? Just keep at it, John.
Sack on the frame, and off you go. Alright, I said, your word is final as always. So, we bought the telly.
What about the motorbike? Sam asked, puzzled.
Oh, we got the motorbike too, Gran sighed, but only later. First, your grandad strained his back lugging potatoes and I ended up hauling most of them home by myself.
When we finally sold the pigs that autumn, she continued, I handed him every last penny from it, told him to go and get his motorbike with a sidecar from the county town.
And next year, come autumn, we had some spare money again, I went on. This time I said, Lets put it towards a new garden shed. The old one from my dads time was falling apart the roof and everything needed sorting. But your gran wanted new furniture instead, so things could look proper, like in other peoples homes. Once again, your decision stands, Margaret, I said. So we got the furniture.
And sure enough, Gran finished, once the snows hit that winter, the old shed finally collapsed under the weight. After that, I decided, whatever John says, thats how it will be from now on.
Well, there you have it! Sam cried. Told you! The last word belongs to the husband.
No, no, Sam, youve missed the point, I laughed heartily. Before I do anything, I go to your gran and say, Thinking of replacing the cooker. What do you reckon? And then whatever she says, thats whats done.
These days, Gran added, whenever something comes up, I always say do as you think best.
So you see, Sam, last word must go to the wife, one way or the other, I concluded, grinning. Dyou understand?
Sam paused, lost in thought, then cracked up with laughter. Once he finished laughing, he seemed to mull things over. Suddenly his face lit up and he nodded.
Now I get it, Grandad. Ill go home and tell Emily, Alright, lets have our holiday in Spain like you want. The car can wait. The gearbox needs fixing, sure, but if it breaks down, well, well just catch the bus to work all winter. Only means waking up an hour earlier, doesnt it? That sound right, Grandad?
Spot on, Sam! I said, giving him a gleeful nod. Another year or two and youll both see eye to eye on everything.
In my experience, things go so much more smoothly when the wife is the head of the household. Makes for a peaceful life I should know by now.
