My mother-in-law and penny-pinching are practically synonyms. Shes thoroughly convinced its pointless to buy anything for a newborn when the extended family have grown kids and can easily donate their worn-out baby gear. I imagine you can guess what state things are in by the tenth hand-me-down. Honestly, I have zero interest in inheriting junk.
At first, we lived in a rented flat, so my mother-in-law didnt meddle much. The real circus began once we scraped together enough savings for our own house, and she decided to oversee our renovations. Shed puff up, declaring that a mate would fix the tiling, another old friend would handle the electricsno need to hire proper workers.
The quality of these alleged experts is, in a word, laughable. Id already seen her own DIY disastershe practically hopscotches across her lumpy kitchen floor. When I objected, she accused me of being mercenary and frittering away money.
Swapping out the furniture triggered round two. She was speed-dialing every relative, rustling up battered sofas, sideboards from the 80s, and rugs that could double as archaeological finds. And if we so much as suggested a polite no thank you, shed tut that our extravagant ways would be the ruin of us.
Luckily, my husband was firmly on Team Sanity. We both earn enough to furnish the house respectably, thank you very much. In the end, we did everything our way, no matter how much she spluttered on the sidelines.
Just to clarify: Im not snobby. My sister often passes down clothes, but theyre top-notchwell cared for and genuinely wearable. I simply refuse the idea that if its free, I should take it, regardless of how dreadful it is. Id rather buy a handful of nice things for the babycomfy and cute.
Why throw money down the drain? my mother-in-law would lament. There are so many children in our family!
I already knew those hand-me-downs had made the rounds more than a football at Wembley. When I finally saw them, they were stained, patched, riddled with holes, missing buttons and zips. The only purpose I could see for those garments was as a mop.
One cousin gifted us a cot from her own cousinminus any actual sides. Her husband was summoned to patch it up. That relic got shipped straight to the garden shed while we bought a sensible, safe cradle.
Oh, look at them living like royalty! she scoffed. You splash the cash now, but just wait until youre on maternity leavethen youll come crawling back, wishing youd listened to me instead of turning your nose up!
Frankly, if shes offended, thats her prerogative. Its my prerogative to keep my child well cared-for. Even if our finances hit a snag, my folks have our backs. One things for sure: If were ever desperate, it wont be for lack of threadbare jumpers and mystery stains.
