Although Daisy was both a marvellous daughter-in-law and wife, she managed to wreck not only her marriage but herself in the process.
Daisy was an orphan and had grown up in a childrens home somewhere on the outskirts of Manchester. By the grand old age of eighteen, shed been swept off her feet and married. She hadnt the faintest clue what being a wife actually meantdomestic bliss was a foreign language, and frankly, even her mates from the home were more interested in the latest boy band than in settling down. Upon moving into her husbands semi-detached in Leeds, Daisy absorbed every morsel of wisdom about the ‘perfect English housewife.’ Her chief instructor, naturally, was her mother-in-law, Barbara.
Now, of course, Daisy had heard countless horror stories about dreaded mothers-in-law. Despite that, she figured that, with no mum of her own, Barbara might adopt her in spirit and would surely wish her well. In Barbaras defence, she genuinely meant no harm; yet, as fate and Yorkshire tradition would have it, meddling ensued. Barbara took to passing on the family gospel with gusto, her favourite sermon being: “Its the wifes fault if her husband strays.”
Why, indeed? Daisy had always figured that the blame for cheating sat squarely on the cheating partys shoulders. Turns out, in reality, it was *obviously* the wifes fault because, as Barbara whispered over a cup of builders tea, the poor woman had probably let herself go, stopped being attractive, and, in short, stopped acting like an alluring woman. She encouraged Daisy to keep her wasp waistregardless of ageso Daisy scribbled dont gain weight in her notepad and promptly signed up at the local gym.
While Daisy was already svelte enough to model for tea towels, paranoia set in and she survived on salad leaves and hope. No sooner had she mastered this, Barbara delivered her next pearl: “In every decent family, the women both work.”
Daisy didnt protest; on the contrary, she rather fancied earning a few pounds herself and wouldve done almost any job. When she asked Barbaras sage advice about maternal leave, Barbara declared, “Maternity leave is your problem. Dont look at me!” Daisy didnt bother writing that one down, but years later, when maternity leave actually arrived, she picked up part-time babysitting shifts for a bit of pocket money. Daisy was quite pleased with herself, but her husband and Barbara started to complain that she wasnt exactly rolling in the pounds.
Daisy did a bit of mental arithmetic and figured using her wages for a new hairdo wouldnt prompt a family crisis. Unfortunately, Barbara had a fresh proverb: “No need to get dolled up when youre home with the baby. Save the money. Get your hair done when youre back at work! So much for self-care.
Sensibly, Daisy handed all her earnings over to her husband, as tradition (and Barbara) dictated. Throughout her marriage, Barbaras greatest hit played on a loop: “A good wife does all the housework herself.” Dutiful as ever, Daisy tackled it all alone laundry, cooking, cleaninguntil exhaustion left her practically unconscious most evenings. After tucking the youngest child into bed around nine, Daisy would scrub the kitchen and prep the next days supper while her darling husband enjoyed his tenth power napbecause earning money is apparently more exhausting than raising children and a household, who knew?
That Daisy ended up in hospital really isnt a plot twist. Shed brushed off every fleeting ache, ignoring the glaring signs of an illness brewing. There she stayed for over two weeks while her husband and Barbara failed to visit even once. Luckily, Daisy had her mobile with her and phoned her best friend, who brought everything from biscuits to bedside gossip. The moment Daisy was discharged, she filed for divorce without so much as a backward glance.
And thus ended Daisys grand lesson in English marital wisdoma cautionary tale for all, especially those who forget whose happiness theyre meant to keep track of.
