My husband came from a family so large, if you stacked them on top of each other, youd reach the roof of Buckingham Palace. My mother-in-law kept having children until she finally produced a daughteran approach I cant say Id recommend, but who am I to judge?
When I married David, I was convinced Id hit the jackpot. He was responsible, brave, and sturdy as an oak tree. The sort who understands the importance of familybut not, it seems, the importance of a little healthy distance from his mother and attention-seeking younger sister. His mum wasnt terribly fussed about her sons, mind you, but ensuring her daughters comfort was always top of her agenda.
Lucy was just ten when I first met her. At the time, she seemed harmless enough, but five years in, she was a pain in the neck. She refused to study, spent her time gallivanting with local hooligans, and whenever disaster struck, it was David who got the midnight SOS call.
I optimistically hoped Lucy would mature, tie the knot, and we could reclaim our lives. But of course, that would have been too easy. When she finally decided to get married, her mum strong-armed the brothers into funding the big event since her own purse was emptier than a London pub after last orders. Her new husband wasnt exactly flush with cash either, so the happy couple moved in with dear old Mum.
One child, then anotherand suddenly, my mother-in-law realised she couldn’t carry on living with this growing brood. Her solution? Move in with us and hand Lucy the flat. Only, you see, I paid every last pound for our place, and my darling David didnt contribute a brass farthing. The best bit? He thinks the whole arrangement is brilliant: Mum will lend a hand around the house!
We live in a two-bedroom flat, hardly Downton Abbey, and I have zero interest in losing my hard-won comfort or sharing my morning tea with anyone else. My mother-in-law, however, is firmly convinced that as the eldest son, David has a sacred duty to ensure her well-beingnever mind my own sanity.
I do love my husbanddivorce doesnt even figure in my list of options. But how do I get him to come to his senses? How on earth do I explain to him that sharing a home with his mother is the fast track to madness? If anyones got a gem of wisdom to offer, Im all ears.
