Honestly, let me tell you about the time my mother-in-law roped me in to help for a couple of hours with her big birthday bash. She called me up and sounded so sweet on the phone:
Oh, could you pop over and give us a hand? Just for two hours, thats all.
I didnt suspect a thing, you know? I thought Id be peeling a few spuds, maybe making a cuppa. But when I walked into that kitchen Oh, mate, it hit me like a ton of bricks. There were pots everywhere, lists a mile long, and then she dropped, the guests will be here in four hours.
Thats when I realised: she hadnt invited me round for a visitshed signed me up for a shift.
There she was, stirring a massive pot, and she spun round with this smile that suddenly felt a bit sinister.
Ah, Charlotte, there you are! Lovely, you made it. Listen, it turns out weve got more guests than we thought. About twenty all in all. So, we need to get the fish in the oven, make three different salads, do the meat, set the table
I just stood there in the doorway, coat and all.
Twenty people? You said Id be helping out for a couple hours
Yes, just for two hours, she waved her hand like that sorted it. Itll go quicker together. Come on, get your coat off, aprons over there. Well start with the salads…
I hesitated, bag still on my arm. I thought you just needed a bit of help. Ive got plans tonight.
She looked at me, eyes like steel, What plans? Family comes first, surely. Were prepping for my birthday and youre thinking about other things.
And there it wasthat look that said my choices didnt matter and I was just supposed to get on with it.
I wouldve been glad to help if youd told me the truth from the start, I pointed out.
Oh, sorry I didnt give you every last detail! she snapped, turning back to the stove. Did you not realise wed have to cook properly for a birthday? Or do you think I should be slaving over all this on my own at my age?
Classiclaying on the guilt and pressure.
You couldve at least asked someone else, or warned me ahead.
She turned suddenly, Why would I ask anyone else when Ive got a daughter-in-law? Or have you forgotten what being family means?
Meanwhile, my husband, James, was in the lounge with his phone, telly blaring. He knew exactly what was going on but kept well out of it.
Im not refusing to help, I said, but this feels unfair. You told me something different.
Oh, listen to her! she announced, arms raised. Apparently Ive misled her! I asked for help, and shes putting on a scene. Thats the modern generation for youthink the world owes them a favour, no sense of duty.
I felt crushed. If I left, itd be a row. If I stayed, Id be dicing veg and listening to snide comments.
Alright, I took a breath. Ill help with the salads, but Im not serving the guests.
She glared.
So Im supposed to run around with trays on my own?
Im just saying it couldve been worked out differently. James could lend a hand.
Hes a man! she scowled. Kitchens not his job, hes got better things to do.
Oh really? Like what, scrolling on his phone?
None of your business! she barked. Are you here to help or to argue?
I took off my coat and put the apron on, started chopping veg. She nodded, satisfied, and got back to her stew.
After a bit, she said,
Youll change when the guests arrive, wont you?
I wont be staying. Ill help and then Im off.
She set her ladle down.
What do you mean youre leaving? Whos going to greet the guests? Whos going to serve everyone?
You or James.
Hell be entertaining. Hes the host.
Host, mind you, whos never even picked up a plate.
So men get to sit and chat, and women run around after everyone?
Her eyes narrowed, What else do you expect? Are you a feminist now?
I just dont get why Im supposed to be unpaid staff.
UNPAID?! she nearly shouted. Youre family! Or did you forget who helped you buy your flat?
There it wasthat ace up her sleeve. The money wed paid back ages ago, but to her, that meant I owed her for life.
Weve paid it back, I replied, keeping calm.
And what about gratitude? Moral debt?
I put the knife down.
Am I meant to feel indebted forever?
I want you to act like a decent person. Like family, not some hired help.
But thats how you treat melike free labour.
She chucked her tea towel down.
FINE! Do what you like, just dont leave before setting the table!
I looked at her, and finally realised that bending over backwards was never going to change a thing.
No, I said quietly. Im not doing it.
What did you say?
I said no. Im leaving.
I grabbed my bag, put my coat on.
You wouldnt dare! her voice shook.
James came out then.
Whats going on?
Shes walking out! his mum pointed at me.
Whats this about? he asked.
Maybe ask your mum why she told me two hours when she actually wanted me to cook for twenty?
She said youd only be needed for a bit
Helping means *helping*, not being stuck in the kitchen all day! she cut in. You cant just poke at some lettuce for half an hour!
This happens every time, I said. And theres always a reminder about the money.
Just help her out! James waved dismissively.
Why should I? Why dont you do some prep? Or lay the table?
Thats not mens work.
I laughedbecause really, what else could I do? I was knackered and just done.
Right. You can handle it yourselves.
I walked to the door.
If you walk out, dont bother coming back! she called after me.
Fine by me.
I left. Sat in the car, hands shaking. Phone ringingdidnt answer.
Later, I got a text:
Come back right this instant.
I just replied:
Im not your free maid.
That night, I stayed home with a cup of tea, and honestly, I didnt care what they said about me.
James came home late.
Happy now? Everyones talking about you.
What do you think? I asked.
He went quiet.
You should have stood up for me, I said. You didnt.
After thatsilence. Two weeks went by with not a word. And you know, I realised something:
Sometimes, walking out is more important than staying put.
Even when theyre shouting behind your back that youre wrong.
