I taught my mother-in-law a lesson on Mothers Day.
Look, Kate, this cant go on! I was already indignant after hearing from Kate that her mum planned to keep barging into our flat as if it were her own. If your mum acts like this already, what will happen when we have kids? Shell practically move in! Shell never let us live in peace!
Kate tried to reason with me, But Mark, shes not a strangershes my mum. One way or another, shell get her hands on a spare key. Are you planning to change the locks every time? Shell be hurt if she finds out weve changed them, you know. Surely we can figure out some decent way for her to realise herself that she cant just walk in whenever she fancies.
Listen, Kate, if talking doesnt work and even my flailing arms in the middle of the night dont make my point, then drastic measures might be our only hope, I said with determination.
What do you mean by that? Kates wide-eyed surprise didnt faze me.
So, if your mum, Pauline, has a key to our place, doesnt that mean youve also got a spare set for your parents flat? I asked, watching her confusion settle in.
Tom and Pauline Blackford decided to make the most of a Saturday morning and take a stroll to the local farmers market. The citys spring market, timed for Mothers Day, was famous among pensionersfresh eggs for a pound less than the supermarket, beef from a local farm, fresh fish still wriggling in the bag.
Brilliant, Tom, we really struck gold with that beef. And just look at those carpstill alive! Ill fry one up right now and take the other over to Kate. Bet I can just see that odd son-in-law of ours jump out of his skin if a live carp kicks off in the kitchen! Pauline cackled, picturing my reaction.
Come on, Pauline, why dont you leave the kids alone for a change? Theyre both over thirty, let them live their lives. You wander round their flat like Miss Marple, as if youre investigating which chair Marks abandoned his socks under. Dont you have anything better to do? Tom tried, not for the first time, to talk sense into his wife.
But Pauline was distracted, Hang onyou didnt leave the shower running, did you? Listen! Thats water running!
Thinking nothing of it, she strode into the bathroomonly to fly back out, shrieking.
Oh my word! TOM! Theres someone in there! Naked! In OUR bath!
Tom shook his head, Whos in there, Pauline? For heaven’s sake, spit it out.
Its MARK! Our son-in-law! Whats he doing in our flat? she wailed.
What am I doing? Well, with the iron-coloured water coming out of our taps, and me just finishing a long shiftI hardly wanted to go to bed filthy. So, I popped round to freshen up, I replied, emerging from the bathroom in nothing but a dressing gown as if I were perfectly at home.
And Pauline, if I might say, as a woman, you really shouldnt be hanging your unmentionables on the radiators and towel rails for all to see. I mean, maybe if they belonged to a young, dainty girlbut in your case Honestly Tom, I dont envy you! I said, strolling into the kitchen and conveniently switching on Paulines beloved coffee machine for a cup.
How dare you! This is my house, Ill dry my knickers where I please! Pauline huffed.
And that coffee machine, Paulinewe only gave you that for Christmas; youd think it had survived the blitz. Ever heard of descaling once a week? Ive seen cleaner kit on an abattoir floor, I went on, lecturing her with teasing authority.
Tom tried to rescue his wife, Steady on, Mark, youre overdoing it
But I pressed on, Whats overdoing it? Tom, look at this place! Chaos in the kitchencant see the worksurface for clutter. Its like a car boot sale, but with less organisation. Pauline, a quick stint in the Army wouldve put you right, taught you discipline!
I wandered around, cataloguing Paulines offences as if I was running an army inspection. And the fridge! I took a looksoured cream and mayo way past their use-by date! Slices of cheese abandoned, curling at the edges. That, Pauline, is not just disorganised, its criminal!
Without further ado, I binned the expired goods; Pauline watched in affronted silence as I tidied up her kitchen.
And an old plate of half-eaten porridge! Thats a cardinal sin, Pauline. You know how hard it is to scrub dried porridge out, dont you? Or do you think having a dishwasher means you can do whatever you like? I made to peek in the dishwasher, but she blocked my way, arms folded and scowl fixed.
Enough! Get out of my house, or Ill phone the police and report you for breaking and enteringeven if you are my son-in-law! I dont care, Mark! This is my house, my kitchen, my bathroom, my knickers, for goodness’ sake! Youve no right marching in here and laying into me like this! she shouted, genuinely furious.
Tom just chuckled to himself. Hed already twigged what I was up to, though Pauline, flustered and fuming, hadnt put two and two together yet.
Well there you go, Paulinejust as I expected! I grinned, finally dropping the act and smiling warmly. Every word you just fired at memaybe think about turning that mirror on yourself. Youve been making Kate and me feel exactly like this for months, bursting into our flat and carrying out snap inspections!
Oh, and by the way, about the police thingif you set foot in our flat without warning again, Ill be calling them myself, and I wont care that youre my mother-in-law. But, I trust the message has landed and it wont come to that, I said, slipping into jeans and a jacket, lacing my trainers as I got ready to leave.
I left you a gift on the kitchen table, Toma bottle of your favourite whisky, and Pauline, some lovely wine and a little bottle of that perfume Kate said you always wanted. Happy belated Mothers Day to you both! With a genuine, friendly smile, I closed the door behind meand left the scene to the stunned Blackfords.
Pauline, wound up and speechless, cracked open the whiskya neat shot in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other, the latter freshly brewed by me, the insolent son-in-law.
Pauline, you have to hand it to our Markhes a tactician, Ill give him that. Staged the whole thing perfectly! Sharp bit of theatre, but with a sweet finish. Not a bad taste in the end! Tom mused, eyeing the whisky and admiring the perfume and wine sitting beside it.
Well, love, happy Mothers Day! Looks like Mark got in first this year with the full worksa whole performance, a tipple, perfume, and all. And your husband has a surprise for you, too! Tom winked, pulling two theatre tickets from behind the bread bin for The Rakes Progress.
From that day, Pauline wisely stopped dropping into our flat unannouncedand she wasnt bitter either, having rather admired my blunt creativity. Our boundaries were at last set and respected. And I was finally able to catch up on sleep after a shift, safe in the knowledge Pauline wouldnt be rummaging through my sock drawer anytime soon.
