“Mum, I’m Getting Married!” Victor Announced Cheerfully – But Sofia Was Anything but Enthusiastic. “Where Will You Live?” She Asked, Squinting. “Here, With You – Surely There’s Enough Room In A Three-Bedroom Flat?” Victor Replied. Sofia Realised She Had No Choice. “Alright, You Can Move In – But On Two Conditions: We Split The Bills Three Ways, And I’m Not Your Housekeeper.” The Newlyweds Had a Modest Wedding and Moved In, But From Day One, Sofia Was Never Home—She Took Up Singing In The Local Folk Choir, Attended Book Readings, Welcomed A Stream Of New Friends, And Left The Housework For Victor And His Bride, Irina. Frustrated With Constant Mess and Empty Pots, Irina Finally Snapped: “Sofia, Couldn’t You Help With The Housework Too?” But Sofia Stood Her Ground: “I’m Not Your Maid—If You’re Unhappy, You Can Always Find Your Own Place!” The Next Morning, Cheerful As Ever, Sofia Put On Her Bright Blouse and Red Lipstick, Humming A Folk Song on Her Way to the Community Centre Choir, Happily Leaving Her Domestic Duties Behind.

Author Mitsuko NagasakiReading 5 minViews 1

Mum, Im getting married! said her son cheerfully.

I see, replied Margaret Taylor, her voice devoid of enthusiasm.

Mum, whats wrong? asked David, sounding surprised.

Nothing… Where do you two plan on living? she asked, squinting suspiciously.

Here, if you dont mind? replied her son. Theres three bedrooms. Surely we wont be cramped?

Do I have a choice? asked his mother.

Well, renting a flat isnt really an option, muttered David.

So I dont have a choice, then, Margaret said, resignedly.

Mum, renting is so expensive these days, wed have nothing left for food, said David. And its not forever, well both be working and saving for a deposit. Well be able to buy our own place much quicker this way!

Margaret shrugged.

I hope so… she said. Right then, move in, stay as long as you need, but Ive got two ground rules: we split the bills three ways and Im not going to play housekeeper.

Fine, Mum, whatever you say, David agreed instantly.

The young couple had a modest wedding and soon they were all living together in the same flat: Margaret Taylor, David, and his bride, Emily.

From the first day the newlyweds moved in, Margaret seemed suddenly to have urgent engagements. When David and Emily returned from work, Margarets absence was conspicuous, the saucepans were empty, and the flat was a messjust as the young couple had left it, nothing had been tidied or touched.

Mum, where were you? David asked with surprise one evening.

Well, you know, David, the local community centre rang and asked me to join the Folk Choir. I have a good voice, you know…

Do you? said David, genuinely surprised.

Of course! Youve just forgotten, Ive told you before. Its other pensioners like me, we get together and sing. Had a lovely time, and Im going again tomorrow! laughed Margaret.

And tomorrowanother choir rehearsal? asked David.

No, tomorrow its a Literary Eveningwere reading Shakespeare, explained Margaret. You know how much I love Shakespeare.

Do you? repeated David in amazement.

Absolutely! Ive mentioned it, youre just not paying attention to your own mother! she chided gently.

Emily watched the exchange silently, not uttering a word.

Since David married, Margaret had found a new lease of lifeshe joined every club for pensioners she could, made lots of new friends alongside her old ones, and the flat was frequently filled with cheerful guests who stayed up late drinking tea, munching on biscuits they brought from the shops, and playing bingo. Margaret often went out, and sometimes became so engrossed in a TV drama that she didnt even notice the children greeting her when they got home.

She steadfastly refused to do any housework, leaving all the cleaning and cooking to her son and daughter-in-law. At first, David and Emily grumbled privately, then they sighed and whispered their discontent; eventually, David started sighing loudly. Margaret ignored these minor irritations entirely, continuing her active lifestyle.

One evening, she returned home beaming, humming Greensleeves under her breath. She entered the kitchen where the young couple were quietly eating freshly made soup, and joyfully declared:

My dear children, you can congratulate me! Ive met a wonderful gentleman, and tomorrow were off to a spa together! Isnt that wonderful news?

It is, agreed David and Emily in unison.

Is it serious? David asked carefully, secretly worried about yet another person joining their household.

That Im not sure ofIll know after the spa trip, Margaret said, as she ladled soup into her bowl and ate with relish, even helping herself to seconds.

After the trip, Margaret returned home disappointed. She said that Charlesher new acquaintancewasnt quite right for her, and they parted ways. However, she quickly added that new adventures were still ahead and continued attending clubs, strolling in the park, and hosting boisterous tea parties in her kitchen.

Eventually, one evening when David and Emily arrived home to yet another messy flat and empty fridge, Emily finally snapped. She slammed the fridge door and, exasperated, demanded:

Margaret! Cant you help out with the housework too? This place is a tip! Theres nothing to eat! Why should we do absolutely everything, and you do nothing?

My, arent we irritable today? Margaret said with genuine surprise. And if you lived on your own, who would do your cleaning and cooking then?

But you live here! Emily protested.

Im not your slave, you know! Ive done my share of chores, thats enough for me! Honestly, David knows I said I wouldnt be the housemaidthat was my condition. If he didnt mention it to you, thats not my fault, declared Margaret.

I thought you were joking, David said, looking sheepish.

So you expect to live comfortably and have me cleaning up everyones mess and making pots of food? No! If I said I wouldnt, I wont! And if it bothers you, youre welcome to find somewhere else! Margaret said firmly and retreated to her room.

The next morning, humming Scarborough Fair as if nothing had happened, she put on her best blouse, painted her lips bright red, and set off for the community centrewhere her Folk Choir friends awaited her.

John and Mary John never wanted to leave his village for the city. He loved the open fields, the river, the woods, and his neighbours. He decided to start his own farm, raising pigs for meat, hoping to grow his business if luck was on his side. He dreamed of building a big house; he already had a car, modest and old, and had invested his grandmother’s house money into the business. But he had another cherished dream: to marry Mary and make her the lady of his big house. They were already dating, and Mary knew John’s business wasn’t thriving, and his house was only just being built. Mary was a beauty. She never planned to achieve anything on her own. “Why was I given beauty, if not to be taken care of by my husband? I just need to find someone who’ll take care of everything for me. My beauty is worth a lot,” she’d say to her girlfriends. “John’s building a house and already has a car,” said her friend Lucy. “He just needs time; it might take him a while to get going.” “But I want everything right away,” Mary would pout. “Who knows when John will ever make it big. He doesn’t have the money.” John loved Mary but knew her feelings weren’t quite what he hoped for. Still, he believed she’d love him with time. Everything might have gone well—if not for the arrival of Tim. Tim had come to the village with a friend, visiting his grandmother on holiday. He looked down on the local girls and was openly bored at the village club, until the beautiful Mary appeared. At first, Mary ignored the outsider—but once she learned he was from a wealthy family and his father a well-known city official, she quickly shifted her attention to him. Tim was older, experienced with women, smooth-talking, and handsome. He often brought Mary lavish bouquets—flowers she knew weren’t sold in the village—so he must have had them delivered, which she appreciated. John saw her accepting Tim’s flowers and got upset. “Don’t take his flowers, are you trying to make me angry?” he pleaded, but she only laughed. “They’re just flowers! What’s the big deal?” John even confronted Tim: “Don’t give Mary your flowers, she’s my girl, and I have plans for her!” Tim brushed him off, and a fight broke out—fortunately John’s friends broke it up. After that, things were off between John and Mary. She avoided him, and he felt hurt. She also understood Tim was only in the village for a month before returning to the city. “I have to come up with something—grab Tim’s attention and go to the city with him. There’s no future for me here—I’d better act quickly,” she thought. It didn’t take much to lure Tim home. Her parents were off to town to the market. Mary timed things so her parents would catch them together. Her father, strict and stubborn, found them both: she in her dressing gown, Tim scrambling to pull on his trousers. “What’s going on here?” her father demanded. Mary lowered her eyes, Tim shuffled awkwardly. “I see,” her father said. “Right, Tim—you need to marry our daughter now, or you’ll be in trouble. Come in here, let’s talk.” What was said, no one knows, but the next day, the young couple went into town to register their marriage, her father driving them, her mother packing them for their move to the city. The village buzzed with the news. John was devastated, but tried not to show it. Tim cursed himself. “Why did I even come here? Why did I fall for the village beauty’s charms? She’s not as naive as she seemed—she trapped me!” But Mary longed for city life, happiness, luxury. “That’s fine—I’ll love him so much, have his babies, he’ll be glad it worked out, just hope his parents accept me…” But to her surprise, Tim’s parents were delighted that he’d brought home such a pretty, down-to-earth country bride. They were tired of all the fancy city girls who only cared about money. Mary would feed and care for their son—she obviously knew how to keep a home. “Come in, Mary, make yourself at home,” his mother Anna greeted her warmly, and his father, Michael, smiled kindly. Mary wanted to be a good housewife. Their flat was big and comfortable. Tim even realised that Mary wasn’t as manipulative as he first thought. “Yes, she played it well with the marriage—caught me good—but she does seem to believe we’ll be happy,” Tim mused, though he didn’t believe it himself. Tim made plans to party after the wedding—he had plenty of lady friends in town. But one evening at dinner, Mary dropped a bombshell: “I’m pregnant—we’re going to have a baby!” “Congratulations, Mary, we’ve been longing for grandchildren!” Anna beamed. Tim realised there was no point arguing—the baby was happening. Soon came the wedding. Tim’s parents gave them a furnished flat. Mary noticed Tim wasn’t thrilled to be a father. “He’ll come around when the baby arrives—he’ll realise what happiness it is,” she thought, little knowing the kind of man Tim really was. After the wedding, Tim started staying out late. “My job means lots of trips away,” he’d say, and she believed him, not knowing what he really did. She never complained to his parents about his absences or the nights he didn’t come home, just waited and cooked nice meals for his return, keeping the house tidy—though she missed her village, friends, and parents, and, strangely, found herself thinking more and more about John. Now she began to doubt she’d made the right choice. When she asked if her husband loved her, he dodged the question. Anna saw her daughter-in-law was downcast and realised her own son wasn’t much of a husband. The birth of their son was a joyous event for the family—even Tim was momentarily moved, but it didn’t last. The crying, the sleepless nights, nappies irritated him; Mary, worn out, could no longer make delicious meals or keep up with everything. Tim wanted to escape. He soon discovered many of his old flames now shunned him. “Who wants a married man?” He never told anyone about his wife. She had no education—just a village girl. “What could I do with her when our son gets older? The thought of my wife working as a cleaner or at a market stalls would ruin the family’s reputation. Guess I’ll just have to support them alone. Alimony would be cheaper.” Tim now had a permanent mistress—Katie, with her own flat, well-off, no interest in kids. That suited him; with her he could relax, party, travel out of town. “Katie, if you only knew how that chaos at home gets to me. I don’t love my wife, and the baby’s a pain too. Sure, Mary’s beautiful, but she’s just a country girl—nothing in common, I’m sick of it all. How am I supposed to go out with her, she’s never seen anything beyond her cows and her village.” Mary realised her dream of family life with Tim was slipping away—and suspected he had someone else. He’d come home smelling of another woman’s perfume, lipstick marks on his clothes. Tim was constantly irritable, ignored their son, snapped at her, even raised his hand. They lived in the village now, already expecting another baby. Mary called her mother, complaining, but got: “We never forced you to marry Tim—you made that choice. We thought you’d marry John. You chose your own path, now deal with it. When you’ve had enough, come home—for good.” Mary was crushed. She even checked Tim’s phone while he slept. The things she read between him and Katie left her speechless. She told her mother-in-law, who said: “If you’re thinking of divorce—remember, we’ll fight for custody. My husband has influence. Whatever his faults, Tim is the father, has good earnings, a flat. He can give the child a lot—what can you provide, without education or a job?” Her son had a fever, teething, and Tim, sick of the crying, got messages from Katie, who was waiting. He replied he’d come when the child settled and Mary fell asleep. Katie wrote: “Just give them the sleeping pills I gave you, they’ll be out in no time.” Tim left his phone on the table while in the shower. Mary saw Katie’s message—and was horrified. “What if he really does drug us? What if he poisons us…” While Tim was in the shower, Mary called John and told him everything. “I’ll come get you and take you home.” “His parents want to take my son away.” “Don’t worry, it’s just threats. Try to calm down, and get your son to sleep. Let your husband leave, and then call me—I’ll be nearby.” Mary rocked her baby until he finally slept beside her. She pretended to be asleep. She heard her husband look in, then leave the house. Quickly, she packed a few things, called John—who arrived promptly and drove her to his home. Tim came home the next evening and found Mary and the baby gone. He called his parents. “No, son, Mary hasn’t been here. Has she really run away? I’m calling the police,” Anna fretted. “Mum, don’t. Don’t call. I’m actually relieved she left. I’m tired of her and the baby. Let her live as she wants—please, Mum.” He talked her round in the end. Time passed. John and Mary married after her divorce. They lived in a big house, and soon were expecting another child. At last, Mary realised that John was her happiness.

“Mum, I’m Getting Married!” Victor Announced Cheerfully “That’s nice,” Sofia Palmer responded with little enthusiasm. “Mum, what’s wrong?” Victor asked, surprised. “Nothing… So where are you planning to live?” his mother asked, narrowing her eyes. “Here. You don’t mind, do you? I mean, there are three bedrooms. Surely we’ll all fit?” “Do I have a choice?” his mother replied. “Well, renting a place is out of the question…” Victor said gloomily. “So I don’t have a choice, then.” Sofia said in resignation. “Mum, the way rents are nowadays, we’d barely have money for food,” Victor explained. “It won’t be forever — we’ll work and save up for a deposit. Living here just makes more sense.” Sofia shrugged. “Alright… Here’s the deal: move in, stay as long as you need, but there are two conditions — we split the bills three ways, and I won’t be your housemaid.” “Deal, Mum, as you wish,” Victor agreed. The young couple had a modest wedding and moved in: Sofia Palmer, Victor, and his new wife, Emily. From day one of the newlyweds’ arrival, Sofia Palmer started to find herself busy. When Victor and Emily got home from work, the house was empty, the kitchen spotless, and nothing cooked — everything still in disarray just as it was when they left that morning. “Mum, where were you?” Victor asked with surprise one evening. “Well, Vit, I got a call from the Community Centre — they’ve invited me to sing in the Folk Choir. You remember my voice, don’t you?” “Really?” Victor was amazed. “Of course! I told you once, but you must’ve forgotten. It’s all pensioners like me singing together — I had a wonderful time, and I’m going again tomorrow!” Sofia said with a twinkle. “Tomorrow’s choir too?” Victor asked. “No, tomorrow is our Literary Evening — we’ll be reading Shakespeare. You know how much I love Shakespeare.” “Really?” Victor was amazed again. “Absolutely! I told you that too. You never pay attention to your own mother!” Sofia replied with gentle reproach. Emily watched in silence. From the moment Victor married, Sofia Palmer seemed to find a new zest for life: she joined every club she could at the local centre, welcomed new friends who’d pop around in boisterous groups for tea and biscuits, taking over the kitchen until late for games of bingo, went out for walks, or binge-watched her favourite dramas, sometimes so engrossed she wouldn’t notice the kids were home. Sofia kept strictly to her rule — no cleaning or cooking, all household duties fell to Victor and Emily. At first, they didn’t complain, but soon Emily started to grumble, they began whispering irritably, and Victor began to sigh loudly. Sofia paid their frustrations no mind, continuing her vibrant pensioner’s lifestyle. Then one day she came home, beaming and softly singing “Greensleeves” to herself. She found Victor and Emily eating soup glumly in the kitchen. “Great news, my dears! I’ve met a wonderful man and tomorrow we’re off to a spa together! Isn’t that fabulous?” “It is!” son and daughter-in-law replied in sync. “So, is this serious?” Victor asked nervously, wondering if they’d gained yet another housemate. “I’m not sure yet, but after the spa I’ll know more,” Sofia said, helping herself to soup and seconds with hearty enthusiasm. After the trip, Sofia returned disappointed. She declared Alex wasn’t her type and they parted ways, but assured them her adventures were far from over. The clubs, outings, and gatherings continued in full swing. Eventually, one day, Victor and Emily came home to a messy flat and an empty fridge. Emily finally snapped, slamming the fridge door and exclaimed, “Sofia Palmer! Couldn’t you help a bit with the housework? The place is a tip and we’re out of food! Why do we have to do everything here?” “Why so cranky?” Sofia asked, surprised. “If you lived on your own, who’d do it then?” “But you’re here!” Emily countered. “Well, I’m not your servant — I’ve put in my time and that’s enough! I told Victor from the beginning, I wouldn’t be a housemaid. If he didn’t tell you, that’s not my fault,” Sofia replied evenly. “I thought you were joking,” Victor said sheepishly. “So, you want to live comfortably and have me pick up after you and cook mountains of food? No! I said I wouldn’t, and I won’t! If it’s a dealbreaker, you’re equally free to find your own place!” Sofia declared, heading off to her room. The next morning, just as lively as ever, singing softly “Early one morning, just as the sun was rising…” she put on a smart blouse, bright red lipstick, and set off for the Community Centre’s Folk Choir, where fun waited for her yet again.