25November 2025
Dear Diary,
The whole of my wifes family has reached a unanimous verdict: Daisy, our daughterinlaw, is utterly useless and shameless. At first, though, the picture looked rather rosy. Daisy threw herself into heroic effort, desperate to win the approval of her new relatives.
Whenever a holiday arrived, the entire clan would march in a tidy procession to our modest rented flat in Manchester. Not only did Daisy run the kitchen like a virtuoso, she also conjured a vivid imagination, arranging all sorts of leisure activities to delight the dear guests. They never waited for a formal invitation they simply invited themselves. I recall an early incident in Daisys tenure as daughterinlaw.
Hello, Daisy! Happy SaintGeorges Day! croaked my sisterinlaw Emily over the phone, her words muffled as if she were chewing on something fierce.
Oh, indeed Daisy stammered, hopping over the autumn puddles, Thank you. Ive been caught in the whirlpool of everyday life and completely forgot the datework, endless trips to the doctor. She poured out her heart, believing that sharing personal woes brings strangers closer. She was desperate to belong. But you called at the perfect moment; I just came back from my first ultrasound, so youll be the first to hear who were expecting.
Emily was glued to the news, the background of the broadcasters frantic voice hinting at some fresh world disaster. The mix of horror and relief that washed over her was palpable thank heavens she herself was fine. She wanted to get to the point, so she cut Daisy off:
Look, well drop by this evening, so get a meal ready! Mum, dad, me, George and little Irene were all coming. Im off, theres a volcano erupting on some tropical islands on the news, absolute nightmare!
But nothing is prepared! We hadnt planned anything! Daisy managed to protest, frozen midpuddle as cold water seeped over her shoes. She leapt onto dry ground.
Come on, youve got loads of time! Youre our culinary wizard, Daisy, a proper magician, and Im a complete zero in the kitchen. Bye for now, see you at six.
Brief, brief, brief! Emily peppered every sentence with that word, as if it sliced straight to the heart of any issue, skipping all preamble. Years later, I thought, If only her tongue were shorter and her intellect longer!a bitter irony that lingered after all her attempts at appeasement fell flat.
Her proper name was Edith, a name the inlaws deemed too pretentious. They preferred Daisy, Petal, Sweetie any nickname that reminded her of the humble roots from which she had crawled to Georges side. So there was no point in playing the proud aristocrat. Daisy was Daisy a tiny cockroach, period.
Edith considered it a matter of honour not to embarrass herself before her husbands kin. She stocked up on provisions and tackled the cooking with gusto, hoping not just to feed but to awe the guests. The spread included not only hearty mains but also elegant canapés: rainbowcoloured bites, tempting tartlets, stuffed cherry tomatoes, minicucumbers, mushroomcheese bites, Italianstyle bruschetta and more. To keep the crowd entertained, she printed simple game sheets and arranged modest prizes. Yet pleasing a large, demanding brood was no easy feat.
My God, is this all homecooked again? my fatherinlaw grumbled, eyeing the sagging table, I was hoping for a proper pizza. When will you start earning enough to order in? The endless domestic fare was wearing thin.
The next time Daisy swallowed the barb and ordered pizza, sushi and a bowl of instant noodles for herself. By then their first child had arrived, and juggling a baby made lavish feasts physically impossible.
Blast! No homecooked food? Not even a simple salad? the relatives wailed. George, your wifes gone soft, turned bourgeois. Their motherinlaw snapped, Its a disgrace to skimp on dear ones thats proper nonsense! George meekly added, Its just pizza. Daisy flushed with hurt, thinking, If only I could speak up, tell them theyre not welcome any more. But she stayed silent, lacking the spine to confront the tightly knit clan. Others chimed in, What isnt made by your own hands isnt worth appreciating.
George tried to defend her, but always with a lighthearted joke: Daisy, dont take it to heart. Theyre simple folk, saying what they think. They mean no harm; youre liked. Liked, indeed! Daisy retorted dryly. Why would they keep dropping by if they didnt?
The guests would sometimes ring just half an hour before arriving. The moment Daisy saw Emily or Mum flash on the screen, a flash of anger surged inside her.
Daisy, were out shopping nearby, well pop over in half an hour, have a cuppa with you, Emily sang sweetly.
I cant, the babys asleep! Daisy replied.
Well be as quiet as mice, just bring a snack, be our soul! Even if she let the call go to voicemail, they would still bang on the door, forcing her to brace for yet another intrusion.
No one cared that Daisy had a tiny infant, that she was exhausted, that the visits were utterly illtimed. No one minded that George was busy at work, that a trip to the hospital, the market, the train station, or the countryside was needed. After all, George runs his own business a little selfemployment should make it easy to help family, shouldnt it? Wouldnt his conscience be racked if he had to pay for a taxi for his own kin? That was not family.
The second pregnancy arrived under a cloud of strain. After six months, George feared leaving Edith alone for long. He had to travel to Leeds for a work meeting and asked his sister Emily to look after Daisy just to stay the night and, if needed, call an ambulance or get the elder son to the hospital.
Emily gorged on wine, chattered away into the night, while Daisy, exhausted, tried to nap on a sofa that doubled as a marital bed. No spare bedroom existed beyond the babys crib, so she spent the night perched on a hard kitchen stool because there was nothing to spread on the floor they were pinching every penny for a proper flat. At dawn Emily fled to work, leaving Daisy to wander the flat and realise the seriousness of the situation. She called a close friend, who took the baby and drove her to the perinatal centre. Daisy was rushed into surgery to save the baby. While she lay in hospital, George erupted in a spectacular tirade at his relatives:
How many times must I ask for help? Once, and what do I get? When Im needed as a freerange taxi for you, youre all sure, no problem. When I need the slightest assistance, you turn me away! From now on, dont ask me to drive anyone call a cab!
The first shock subsided, Daisy delivered a healthy second son, and the relatives slowly found a truce. Yet George kept his word: he never again chauffeured anyone, despite their pleas. The real culprit was Emily, but her parents defended her, claiming Daisys health was to blame: a proper woman should give birth as easily as she sneezes. They never dared to reprimand their own son, so after each refusal they muttered a nasty word about the daughterinlaw, for she had turned George against them.
The unannounced visits never stopped they were simply too convenient and cheap. By then Daisy was fed up with being the everready hostess, so she resolved to become the bad one and teach the brazen relatives a lesson. She did it without a word.
One day, the clan turned up to celebrate the arrival of the third child three months old. Of course, no one had invited them.
Oh, you havent even started cooking! they gasped.
Theres herring on the counter to be filleted, the beetroot and potatoes are in the pot, youll manage the salad in four hands, right Emily? And you, George, go fetch a cake any cake, I cant eat, Im on a diet. She rocked the baby, We have gas, not time for cooking.
The relatives stared, bewildered. They ended up making the salad, buying the cake and devouring it themselves, leaving George a crumb. Daisy didnt even stay; she retreated to the bedroom, nursing the infant for an hour on end.
At the next visit she offered nothing, suggesting they peel their own potatoes.
There are frozen mushrooms in the freezer; theyll make a nice side, not a dinner! she said, then slipped away. The guests froze, then whispered. Motherinlaw entered, stonefaced:
Daisy, we noticed theres no bread in the house. Well all pop out to the shop, maybe pick up a few more things.
Certainly. Get whatever you like. They left, bought bread and never returned. From that day the relatives ceased their surprise appearances. Daisys reputation as a terrible daughterinlaw was sealed: lazy mother, careless housekeeper, a shameless nuisance, and poor George, forever the victim. All those years she had laboured to throw lavish feasts were erased from the family memory as if they never happened.
Edith swallowed the final sting. No use looking for good where there is none. At least now the house would be free of uninvited guests and the endless expense of feeding a voracious clan. She resolved that, if extreme measures were required, she would choose the one that brought her the most peace and comfort, rather than endure the impudence of kin.
Lesson learned, dear diary: trying to appease everyone only strips you of yourself; it is better to set firm boundaries and protect the little peace you have.
