The Tale of a Mother-in-Law. “You won’t believe who I 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 began breathlessly sharing her astonishing news. “You won’t believe who I just met! My brother’s got himself a girlfriend. Lovely-looking girl, full of life, fiery red hair—like sunshine itself. Her name’s Lauren. Works at the car wash where we take the car to be cleaned. That’s where they met. Seems pretty serious between them. Isn’t that brilliant?” Katie chattered nonstop.
Simon Andrews, Katie’s father, looked up from his plate with a pleased grin and remarked that it was about time—he’d started questioning his son’s inclinations. Helen Andrews, Katie’s mother, huffed at her husband’s comment and frowned at the thought of her son finding a girl at a car wash.
“Who even works there? Only those who couldn’t get hired anywhere proper. No education, no manners, no upbringing. And they’re all so… common. Just ‘car wash girls’—not fit to lace our son’s shoes,” Helen grumbled, unable to let it go. Simon disagreed, standing up for the girl. “Now, now, don’t be so quick to judge. People are different. Maybe she works part-time while studying remotely. There’s nothing wrong with hard work—means she values money. She won’t be pestering our son for handouts if she earns her own. You haven’t even seen her yet—she might be lovely. I doubt our lad would settle for just anyone.”
But Helen was in fighting spirits and wouldn’t be soothed. “Well, I’ll go and have a look at this ‘beauty,’ then. See what spell she’s cast on our boy. I’ll make sure she’s sacked—no business eyeing up well-off lads. She ought to find herself a simpler sort.”
The next day, Helen marched straight to the car wash. From the moment she stepped in, she made a scene, shouting for this ‘Lauren’ who was clinging to her son. She demanded the girl be fired for romancing customers—utterly disgraceful! But a young woman named Emily, who greeted her at the entrance, said she didn’t know anyone by that name—perhaps she worked a different shift—and suggested Helen return tomorrow.
Helen would’ve loved nothing more than to humiliate this ‘shameless’ Lauren on the spot and chase her out in disgrace. But there was nothing for it—she had to go home empty-handed. Still, she swore she’d be back.
Emily later pulled Lauren aside, warning her that dating clients was strictly against the rules—instant dismissal, written in the contract. Lauren sighed—she and James had been together a year. She hadn’t even wanted to get involved, but he’d been relentless, wouldn’t take no for an answer. Now he wanted her to meet his parents, but she kept putting it off—she wanted to finish university, land a proper job first, *then* face them.
She needed this work—she was studying and living in halls, refusing to take money from her own folks. Emily promised not to report the incident, but Lauren had to ask James to speak to his mother—no more scandals at the car wash.
That evening, James came home and, without preamble, confronted his mother: “What’s your game? Trying to drive a wedge between me and Lauren? She’s only at the car wash temporarily. And work is work—no shame in it. You don’t even know her. She’s kind, she’s clever, and I love her. If you ever show up there again, I’m leaving. I’ll take Lauren, rent a flat, and you won’t see either of us. Stay out of it. I’m marrying this girl. That’s final.”
Helen said nothing. She knew her son’s temper—he didn’t make idle threats. If he said it, he’d do it. She didn’t want to lose him, so she vowed never to set foot in that car wash again.
Two years later, James and Lauren married. The groom’s family adored the wedding. Helen proudly mentioned that Lauren had helped organise it. Turned out she was stunning, sharp as a tack—graduated with first-class honours, landed a corporate job, earning as much as James. And now they were expecting—Lauren three months along. James had barely convinced her to marry him; she’d wanted to live together first. Thank goodness Helen had listened to her son and kept her nose out.
Simon took Helen’s hand, murmuring in her ear how lucky he was—just like their boy. They joined the newlyweds’ dance, swaying to the waltz.
So tell me—should a mother pick her son’s bride?
