Ever since I was a child, Ive been the sort of person whod lend a hand to anyoneeven my arch nemesisif they were in a sticky situation. Never in a million years did I imagine my mother-in-law would fall into that category. Contrary to every dreary stereotype under the British sky, my mother-in-law is a lovely ladyproperly polite and genuinely kind.
Then disaster struck: she became seriously ill, ended up in hospital, and needed a bit of TLC after her release. So, without bothering to run it past my husband first, I whisked her off to our terraced house where he and I could look after her properly. I was convinced hed be chuffed to bits about how well I was caring for his mum, but all the way home, she seemed oddly downcast, as if wanting to say something but couldn’t quite find the gumption.
When we arrived, I helped her into the house, fluffed her pillows, and put her to bed, before popping off to make her some comforting soup. My goal? To make both my husband and mother-in-law happy. Sadly, when my husband walked through the door, things took a turn for the worse.
Seeing his mum tucked up in bed, he demanded to know what that old freeloader was doing under our roof, and threatened to turf her out. It took every ounce of willpowerand a fair bit of elbow greaseto stop him. If not for me, he probably wouldve booted his own mum onto the street. Were still married, but honestly, Im thoroughly let down by his behaviour.
