Our daughter recently got hitched to a chap who, while he isnt exactly rolling in pounds, does have both feet firmly on the ground. My husband and I werent, shall we say, dancing a jig at their wedding, but it was her call, so off she went down the aisle.
To mark the big moment, my husband handed over the keys to a rather nice flat to our daughter so the newlyweds wouldnt have to waste their youth paying off some landlords mortgage. The couple were properly chuffed, and not surprisingly so were the grooms parents.
Every time the in-laws popped by for tea, it was, What a lovely flat! and, Isnt this marvellous? Enough to make the Queen jealous. The mother-in-law, in particular, became a permanent fixture, and soon my daughter started ringing to say she couldnt even call her best mate without the in-law hovering in the background, boiling the kettle.
Not long ago, the mother-in-law pitched what she no doubt thought was an absolutely brilliant idea: she suggested that my daughter register her and her clan as co-residents, allowing her to sell her own flat and use the proceeds to buy the whole lot of them a bigger place. Naturally, in the new arrangement, the property would become one big happy family asset because, in her opinion, thats simply what families do.
My daughter, bless her, politely turned down this generous offer she found the whole thing a bit odd, if not entirely bonkers. But the mother-in-law was undeterred. She began calling every day, initially with sweet talk, then moving on to borderline blackmail and a touch of melodrama. There were tears, finger-wagging accusations about a lack of love for her son, and some wild threats about divorcing her own husband and snatching away the flat. The son our new son-in-law appeared to try and keep her calm, but frankly, he was as effective as a chocolate teapot.
At first, my husband and I agreed to keep our noses out of it, hoping the young couple could sort out their own dramas. But then our daughter rang us sobbing, and well that did it. Enough was enough.
My husband, a no-nonsense sort, marched round to see the mother-in-law and firmly told her to stop pestering our daughter, hinting that the next chat would be with the local bobby if she didnt. Miraculously, she changed her tune, claiming wed all misunderstood her; she only wanted what was best for everyone.
Since then, our daughters been spared the daily soap opera and at last, shes got her peace not to mention her flat.
