My friends son is a truly splendid young man. He excelled at school, graduated with flying colours, landed a good job, and worked tirelessly. Now hes a prosperous businessman, with a lovely house in the countryside, and a flat in central Londonin all honesty, hes remarkable, not your average chap.
Butas there always seems to be a buthe married a girl. Not just any girl, but one whos terribly difficult. She comes from a rather troubled backgroundquick to anger, jealous, unkind. Its not just the grumblings of a mother-in-law whos lost her only son; it really is the case.
To begin with, this woman managed to drive away all of her husbands friends. Why are you even bothering with them? They just come over to drink, constantly borrowing money off youcant you see theyre taking advantage?
Soon after, she gradually got rid of his relatives as well. His family is quite large and close-knitthey would celebrate birthdays together, call each other oftena genuinely good family, enthusiastic and supportive.
She would always roll her eyes when invited for family events, would suddenly have some urgent matter every time they were meant to visit, and mysteriously develop a headache whenever anyone was due at their place.
Eventually, only his mum paid the odd visit, too desperate to see her granddaughterand, of course, she missed her son dreadfully.
Every time, his wife managed to create a scene.
Not by shouting or storming about, but in a chillingly quiet way, hissing, Ive told you a thousand times before, but you dont seem to learndont bring cheap gifts, we only use nice things, and you show up with such rubbish.
Her son would stand by, nodding feebly, Mum, for heavens sake.
Yesterday, I met up with her and another friend. My friend was weeping, hands trembling as she showed me a text message. Her daughter-in-law had written to say she and her husband had decided it best not to have her over anymore.
With tears rolling down her cheeks, she told us her son had rung her, saying, Mum, youre upsetting my wife. When you visit, shes out of sorts for three days afterwards.
But really, thats beside the point. I sat there, sighing, poor thinghow unfair, what dreadful luck. What a ghastly daughter-in-law.
Then, suddenly our other friend spoke up, What does she have to do with it? You raised a son like thatcold and heartless.
I protested, You dont understand. Whats he supposed to do, if thats how she is? Hes doing it for his family, to keep the peace, and you should have seen what a sweet boy he waswhy, back in year six, he made his mother a homemade Mothers Day card.
She promised to show us somedaya heart and a flower hed drawn himself. If only it werent for his wife…
But our friend just shrugged and said, If a mans not mean, no wife can force him to be. Then she left.
Suddenly, it was as if a veil had been lifted from my eyes.
All my life Id assumedgood men marry terrible wives.
But here we are.
Turns out, a man is cruel because thats who he is, not because some dreadful wife forced him.
