My mother-in-law is incredibly overprotective when it comes to her son. Every day, during his lunch break, my husband dashes over to his mums house for a meal. Every single day, she sends him text messages. Whenever he has a problem, its straight to his mum for help. If he needs cash, he heads straight over to her.
Today, I return home from work and there she ismy mother-in-lawstanding in our hallway, suitcase in hand.
Good evening, Patricia! I say. What brings you here with a suitcase?
Ive decided to stay with you both for about a week and help out around the housewith the child, and with Henry. You really ought to feed him better, love. Not everyone has the time or the knack to do everything, she replied, a knowing look in her eyes. After all, you have your job, dont you?
Patricia is a very commanding and rather unusual woman. I didnt argue or try to explain myself; instead, I walked through to the kitchen to talk to my husband. His reaction truly left me speechless.
Sweetheart, am I right in thinking your mothers decided to move in for the week? Without even asking? Shes just told me she thinks I cant manage the house properly.
I dont see a problem, Henry said, clearly indignant. Let her stay. Why is it your mother can come to stay for a week whenever she likes, but mine cant? Is there something wrong with my mum? When your mother stayed with us, I didnt make a fuss, did I?
Hold onmy mum lives in Manchester, Henry. She only visits once or twice a year! Im hardly going to put her up in a hotel. Your mother lives down the road and is here practically every day! I fired back.
I cant stand the idea of my mother-in-law being in our house while Im not there. All I can imagine is her poking around, rifling through our cupboards the moment were out of sight.
Henry is completely used to this sort of overbearing behaviour from his mother. His hair has already started to go grey, but still his mother comes rushing over with a pot of stew, wipes his nose, fusses over him. The endless conflict between me and Patricia never seems to stop. It bothers me that her son is so entangled with his mother still. She insists I dont take proper care of him, bombarding me with advice on how to live, what I should do, how best to tend to her boy.
When we first got married, Patricia would visit daily, do Henrys laundry, and wait in the kitchen for him to come home from work just so she could serve him a hot dinner. I quickly grew tired of it. After several talks with Henry, he eventually spoke to his mum and she cut down her visits to two or three times a week. Then, when our son was born, she was back every daywithout fail.
Now, Im considering renting a place for myself. Ill move out if she insists on staying here. I told Henry this, laying it all on the line.
My mum only wants to help! he protested, wounded.
But do I need her help? I whispered, voice trembling, barely able to mask the brewing storm within me.
