So, is the aim to assemble a small football team? How many more little ones are you planning to churn out? my husbands mother fired at me, eyebrow arched so high I swear it nearly vanished into her fringe.
Afternoon to you as well, Margaret, I replied, trying my best to play nice. Honestly, theres no need to be so sharp. Simon must have mentioned the news, and youre not thrilled? I tried to sound as polite as possible.
Of course Im not! After the third grandchild I distinctly recall telling you it was time to stop populating the village. You never listen. I gave you that bumper pack of contraceptives for Christmas, thinking youd take a hint! But youre still at it. Margaret huffed, clearly warming up to her lecture.
I vividly recalled Margaret handing over what can only be described as the worlds largest box of condoms last Christmas, right as we were cutting the cake for our eldests birthday. Not subtle. We heard you, honestly, but sometimes life has its way, I said, keeping my voice as calm as possible.
Are you having a laugh? Well, you can look after your lot on your own nowI am done helping. Dont come to me! She was on a roll, but before I could answer, the call cut off with a wailing beep.
I tossed my phone onto the duvet, smirked, and gave my currently completely flat belly a gentle rub. Baby number four, currently making Margaret more flustered than a cat at a dog show. Whats got her so worked up, I can never quite figure.
Shes never exactly bust a gut to help out with the grandchildren, if were being honest. Margaret appears once a month, bearing gifts only on major holidaysif elves are involved, so is she. Shes comfortably off, but buying a couple of Freddos for her grandchildren apparently isnt on the agenda. Ive never complainedthere’s little point. The kids are always tidy, always full, and thats what really matters.
Simon brings home a decent pay packet, and I do a bit of work from home. Once my little side business got going, there was enough left over for me to hire a nanny, just to free myself from refereeing the squabbles over TV remotes. The nanny takes them for walks and runs them about the park, so I can concentrate.
Overall, were a happy bunchwell, right up until Margaret arrives, frowning like shes mislaid her winning lottery ticket. Shes not really warmed to me since day one, and the steady arrival of grandchildren seems to have only fuelled the fire.
When the youngest, our third, was on the way, Margaret lobbied hard for an intervention. She only really started to dote on her after a year or so, when our little one finally worked her magic. Just as the dust had settled, I ended up pregnant againsooner than planned, but thats life. Divine intervention, you might say.
Needless to say, Margaret wasnt uncorking the bubbly over this fourth arrival. I rather suspect its not the noise or chaos that bothers herits the funds. Simon still slips her a bit of cash every month, and she frets that another child will mean the bank of Simon will run dry.
Dont get me wrong, Ive never opposed Simon giving his mum a handprovided the children arent eating beans on toast for a fortnight. So far, were comfortable. Hes sorted her dodgy tooth, paid for a trip to Brighton, and even shelled out for a lick of paint around her flat.
If Im right and its really just the purse strings that panic her, I fear shes going to be disappointed. Her nagging wont persuade me to give up our fourth bundle of joy, and thats that. The only mystery that remains is why some believe they get a vote on how many children you have. Id let Margaret deliver a speech at Ascot before letting her decide how many nappies Ill be buying next year.
