I got married. My marriage only lasted six months, right up until my husbands mother came to stay with us. She arrived unannounced, apparently to make sure her son had made the right choice and that I was looking after him properly. He was thirty years old at the time. At first, I thought it was all some kind of joke, but it wasnt.
My husband, Thomas, grew up in a small town in Yorkshire. After finishing secondary school, he decided to move to my city, Oxford, to attend university. Once hed completed his studies, he didnt want to return home.
Before I met him, Thomas shared a flat with a friend and tried to save for a place of his own, though it didnt seem to be going particularly well. At least, by the time we met, he hadnt really managed to save much at all.
I had no such worries about housing or money. I lived alone in my own two-bedroom flat in Oxford, had a steady job, wasnt financially dependent on anyone, and even did my best to help out my parents. I wouldnt say I made loads, but I had more than enough to get by.
From the moment we met, Thomas and I took a real liking to one another. At the time, I was thirty, and he was thirty-one. Neither of us had been married before or had children, which, at our age, was rather uncommon.
We dated for about a year. Now and then, Thomas would stay over, but I never asked him to move in, nor did he particularly hurry it along. Eventually, though, we found ourselves talking about our future, and we decided it was time to try living together for about six months.
The results were promising, so we chose to get married. We didnt see much reason to throw a big wedding my parents came over, we shared a few glasses of wine, and Thomass mum said, since there was no grand affair, shed pop by later to meet me and congratulate us in person.
We were really happy. After the marriage, Thomas didnt turn lazy and leave his socks everywhere or ask for breakfast in bed every morning; everything carried on as before. But then, out of nowhere, his mother disrupted our peaceful home.
She showed up utterly unannounced it felt like rain on a sunny day. That Saturday morning, she simply rang Thomas and said she was already at the station. We both looked at each other like cartoon characters. Thomas was frantically dressing and calling a taxi, while I hurriedly tidied the place and wondered what I could fix up to feed our guest. I was keen to make a good impression, especially since this was the first time Id meet her.
I quickly rustled up something to eat, did a lightning-speed clean (I only ever clean properly on Saturdays), and barely had time to get out of my pyjamas and into something decent before Thomas brought his mother through the door. She was a large woman, incredibly loud and cheerful. She hugged me, patted me on the head like a kitten, and looked me over as if I were a fresh bargain at the market.
I was truly surprised by the number of bags shed brought the sort of luggage someone would pack for an awfully long trip. I tried not to dwell on it and just focused on being a good hostess.
Thomass mum found something to criticise almost right away, but I tried to take it all in stride. The weekend went by quickly I had to make her comfortable, introduce her to my parents, and listen to some rather funny stories from Thomass childhood.
Id hoped shed stay a week or two at most, but three weeks came and went without a hint of her planning to leave. My husband was as uninformed about her intentions as I was, but he didnt seem bothered at all. She fussed over him daily and kept making his favourite fried potato cakes.
Ill be staying a while, just to see how you look after my son and teach you how to do it right, she told me quite seriously. Then she unleashed a cascade of complaints about everything I did wrong.
When I demanded Thomas have a word with her and ask her to leave, he started on about how shes his mother, that we shouldnt upset her, she only wanted the best, and I could honestly learn a thing or two from her. This same chat repeated for another fortnight, by which time his mother was well and truly settled in and bossing me about in my own home.
I couldnt take it any longer, so I simply showed her the door and asked that she announce herself before visiting in the future. She was horrified, Thomas tried to argue with me about his mum, but all he accomplished was being sent off with her.
Thats when Thomas told me if I didnt apologise to him and his mother, hed file for divorce. I flatly refused to say sorry, and the divorce was over and done with in no time. Thank heavens I had the sense not to have a child with that man.
