Mum, your son is a grown man!
Thats exactly what I said to my mother-in-law while she, for the umpteenth time, asked her son what kind of pants he was wearing. By the way, he turned thirty just last week. She hovers over every move he makes, and I feel as though she sees me as some insignificant stranger.
Her ability to orchestrate her sons life is baffling, but my patience has finally run dry. Its reached a point where my husband is ready to quit his job simply because his mother doesnt approve of his workplace. Whenever he seeks a new position, his mother slips him a bundle of pounds. Shes certainly a woman of means, but the thought of living off her generosity, with a perfectly fit and healthy husband, makes my skin crawl.
One day, we were getting dressed for a wedding. My husband had treated himself to a new suit, bought at a sensible price. The moment his mother laid eyes on it, she fumedit wasnt from a famous brand. She pressed a handful of pound notes into his palm and ordered him out to find something more to her taste.
Recently, she handed us a flat as a gift, though the deeds are in her name. It doesnt bother me, not really, but shes redecorating the place in her signature style. How am I meant to feel at home there when I cant even pick out my own toilet seat?
On one hand, we ought to feel thankful. But honestly, its as if shes keen to parade her superiority. She does everything for her darling boy. And I suspect he rather enjoys the attentionhes never once so much as uttered a word of protest.
A few weeks ago, my mum came to visit. She lives in the countryside and intended to stay with us for a while. When my husband saw her, he said:
How about we make Mum a cuppa and run her over to Aunt Jeans in a taxi?
Turns out, his mother had insisted he keep my mum at arms length from me, as she might be a bad influence. My mums got relatives in town, true, but she came to see me, to stay with me.
Do you know what I did? I packed my bags and left with my mum. I do not regret it for a momentfinally, I put my foot down and stopped bending over backwards.
Take my advice: never tie your life to a mothers boy; it leads nowhere.
