My daughter-in-law turned the house into a party, and my son won’t say a word!
“My son called me nearly in tears,” shares Margaret Thompson, gripping her phone so tight her knuckles went white. “He asked if he could come stay with us in Manchester for a bit, just to get some work done. His wife keeps bringing her friends over every single day, and he can’t focus on his computer! I was fuming—could hardly catch my breath.”
“Did you let him stay?” asks her neighbor, pouring more tea.
“Of course I did!” Margaret’s voice trembles with frustration. “I’ve told him a hundred times—sort things out with your wife! But it’s useless. He showed up looking exhausted, starving, eyes bloodshot. Sat at the computer and didn’t move till midnight. Says his project’s on a tight deadline.”
“Why can’t he work at home? His wife’s bothering him?”
“It’s not a home anymore, it’s a bloody train station!” she sighs. “One day it’s her sister, the next a whole crowd of mates. Noise, laughter, music loud enough to shake the ceiling. How’s he supposed to work like that?”
Her son, James, is a project engineer. He’s been married to Emily for six years. At first, Margaret couldn’t have been happier with her daughter-in-law. Emily was quiet, polite, had a degree in finance. And when their grandson Alfie was born, Margaret thought she was perfect. “Such a homemaker! Place sparkling, baby well looked after, James always fed. I was over the moon for my son,” she remembers wistfully.
James built his career while Emily was on maternity leave. In three years, he climbed to senior engineer, but with promotion came extra hours. Then everything changed. “My boy—always so lively, full of energy—just faded right before my eyes,” Margaret says, fighting tears. “I thought it was work stress, but no—it’s home.”
One day, she dropped by their flat in central Manchester unannounced. And what a scene—music blasting, friends everywhere, laughter pouring from the kitchen. James was locked in the bedroom, glued to his laptop, and Alfie was nowhere in sight. Turned out Emily had sent him off to her parents’ place in the suburbs. These parties had become routine. Every night—friends, sister, dancing till midnight. A birthday one day, “just because” the next. James couldn’t work in that chaos. “I walk in, and the place is a tip. How am I supposed to focus?” he groaned to his mum.
Margaret tried talking to Emily. She snapped back: “I’m sick of being the perfect little wife and maid! Five years without a break—laundry, cooking, raising a child. Who ever thanked me? No one! Now I’m having fun with my friends, and there’s no men around. Alfie’s happy at his gran’s. If James has a problem, he can say it to my face!”
James noticed Emily changed as soon as she went back to work. Weekdays, she’s the perfect wife—weekends, she’s “going off the rails”. He’d love to put a stop to it, but he’s afraid: “She’ll lose it, and things’ll get worse.” Margaret’s horrified. “My son’s too soft—he won’t stand up to her,” she says. “What if Emily doesn’t stop? What if this spirals? What happens to their family then?”
Her friends ask, “Can’t Emily’s mum talk some sense into her?” Margaret just shakes her head. “Her mum thinks it’s fine. Says she’s young, knackered, let her have fun while she can. Alfie’s not a bother to her. And since James keeps quiet, she reckons he’s fine with it.”
Margaret doesn’t know what to do. She sees her son suffering, their marriage crumbling. James can’t work at home, and Emily shows no sign of slowing down. “This can’t go on!” she fumes. “If this keeps up, they’ll split, and my grandson will grow up without his dad!”
What would you do in Margaret’s place? How do you help your son without wrecking his family? Ever been in a situation like this? Share your advice—this is getting out of hand.
