I was tidying up the house, sweeping and scrubbing the floors with a level of enthusiasm usually reserved for spring cleaningor when your mother-in-law is lurking around. And just as I finished, my mother-in-law, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, tossed a handful of peanut shells right onto my freshly polished floor. I stared at her, gobsmacked. She couldnt even pretend it was an accident.
Mum, why did you do that? I saw youon purpose!
She glared at me as if Id dared to question the Queens fashion sense and sniffed, Youll clean it again! It builds character!
She strutted back to her bedroom, clearly pleased with herself, while I traipsed off to retrieve the broom and dustpan from the spare room. Apparently, this is what happens when you mix family with housework.
She picked up her dusty old newspaperprobably from 1972and started reading for the umpteenth time.
I couldnt help myself. Why do you dislike me so much? What have I done to deserve this ridicule? I cook for you, do your laundry, run your baths, and cleanthe works. My daughter always helps, too! So why the pure, unadulterated loathing?
She didnt even flinch, didnt bother to respond. Why engage when you can ignore?
I burst into tears. But I finished the floors anyway and left to do the laundry, then dashed down to the greengrocer for carrots and potatoes. There was always something that needed doing, and to be honest, the endless chores distracted me. My husband passed away forever agowell, when our daughter was just eight.
Straight after the funeral, my mother-in-law declared, Youll stay right here. I wont have people in the village gossiping that I threw you out.
What could I do? I agreed, obviouslyId nowhere else to go. My parents house was stuffed to the rafters with my sister and her two boisterous kids. Space for me and my daughter? Not a hope. I was optimistic, though, thinking maybe, just maybe, my mother-in-law and I would finally understand each other. Spoiler alert: We didnt.
She acted perfectly normal in public, but the second we were alone, shed mock me endlessly. I was her personal servant: Youre daft! Who would want you? No man would give you the time of day. Even with a kid! Stay here with me, and when I pop my clogs, the house is yours. But if you dont bend to my will, my nieces and nephews get everything. Youll be left with zilch!
Terrified, I compliedanything for my daughters comfort.
My mother-in-law had no intention of heading off into the great beyond. Shed made it into her nineties, fit as a fiddle, spending her pension exclusively on herself. If Waitrose sold velvet strawberries or gold-plated bread, Id have been forced to buy them.
Years ago, I realised Id made a monumental mistake: I should never have agreed to stay.
Now, my daughter is finishing uni, has a lovely boyfriend, and plans to marry soon. I truly hope she finds happiness. She deserves so much more.
As for me… well, I feel sorry for myself and my thoroughly wrecked life. Sometimes, all you can do is grab the mop, have a good cry, and carry on.
