**Diary Entry**
My brother William married six years ago, and since then, neither my parents nor I have set foot inside their home. Every holiday, birthday, or family gathering inevitably takes place at our parents spacious house on the outskirts of Manchester. Mum spends hours cooking, lays out the table, and still packs Tupperware full of homemade meat pies and salads for William and his wife, Sophie, to take home.
When William was newly married, Sophies birthday came around a few months later. Mum, ever enthusiastic, decided to organise a surprisewe bought a cake, picked out a lovely gift, and planned to drop by. Mum rang Sophie to let her know, but she replied coldly, saying she hadnt planned anything. Mum, refusing to take no for an answer, insisted, *”Well just pop in for a cuppa and a slice of cake! You dont have to lift a finger, love!”*
We went anyway. But instead of a warm welcome, we were met with shockSophie came out onto the street, muttering something about the flat being *”a mess”* and refused to let us step inside. Stunned, we handed over the cake and gift right there on the pavement before driving back home. Since then, Mum has hosted every celebration, and weve all tried to forget that awkward moment.
Sophie once told my parents outright, *”Youve got a big houseplenty of room for guests! We live in a tiny flat; how are we supposed to host everyone?”*
I had to bite my tongue to keep from snapping. Is it really impossible to welcome your in-laws and your husbands sister in a small flat? Its not a crowdjust three people! But we held our tongues to keep the peace.
Now Sophie is five months pregnantMum and Dads first grandchild, and Mum is over the moon. She rings William constantly, asking after Sophie, offering help. But recently, we found out Sophie quit her job early in the pregnancy. Mum panicked: *”Is she unwell? Does she need me?”*
William reassured herSophie was fine, just *”taking it easy.”* We were baffled. William and Sophie had always lived beyond their meansfancy meals out, holidays, designer clothes. They didnt even have a mortgagethe flat was inherited from Sophies granso they spent everything on luxuries. Now, with Sophie not working, their income has dropped, and their usual lifestyle is on thin ice. William tried explaining they needed to cut back, but she wont hear of it.
Sophie admitted she quit out of fear of *”catching something at work.”* Understandable, perhaps, but their budget is stretched to breaking, yet she still expects the same indulgences. Then, in the middle of all this, William suddenly invited us overfor his birthday! My parents and I were stunned. Dad even joked, *”Will we finally find out if my daughter-in-law can boil an egg?”*
Mum was thrilled, picturing a cosy evening. I rang Sophie to sort the details, but instead of a normal chat, I got hysterics. She sobbed into the phone, saying she didnt want us there: *”Ill have to clean the flat, cook a meal! Im pregnantits too much!”*
I tried calming her: *”Soph, it doesnt have to be fancy. Roast a chicken, mash some potatoes, toss a saladdone. Well bring dessert. Its just five of us. Whats the issue?”*
I even offered to order food to spare her the effort. But Sophie carried on about *still* having to mop and tidy. I lost patience: *”Soph, its a one-bed flat! Is cleaning really such a mountain to climb? Do you only mop when guests come over?”*
Finally, I gave an ultimatum: *”If you really dont want us there, we wont come. Well ring William with birthday wishes, and thats that.”*
Mum agreed when I told her. But when we explained it to William, he exploded: *”Sophie doesnt workshe sits at home all day! Cant she at least cook dinner and tidy up? Youre coming, end of! We cant afford takeaway or a cleaner, so shell have to manage!”*
His words hung in the air like thunder. By the end, we were all arguing. Any excitement about Williams birthday had vanishedthe thought of Sophie sulking, sighing dramatically, and rolling her eyes all evening sounded dreadful. We dont want to feel like unwanted guests in our own brother and sons home.
Yet it breaks our hearts to hurt William. Hes so looking forward to having us all together! How can we just not show up? Its his dayhe isnt to blame for his wifes moods. Now were stuck: grit our teeth and go, risking a miserable evening, or cancel and break his heart. Theres no easy answer, and time is running out. What do you do when love for your brother clashes with frustration at his wife? We dont knowbut a decision has to be made.
