How My Husband Secretly Supported His Mother While I Had Nothing to Dress Our Child In

10 March

Lately, Ive been feeling as though the weight of the world rests on my shoulders. Laura and I both work, doing our best with what we have, but our wages are hardly anything to shout about. There never seems to be enough for the three of us, especially with Emma, our little four-year-old, growing so quickly. Anyone raising a child in England these days knows how costly it isclothes, shoes, nursery feesit never ends. Every penny counts, and every decision seems to have consequences.

To make matters trickier, Laura insists on helping her mother out with the rent. I understand the sense of duty, but it hits hard when were scraping by and still sending pounds off to her mum. What baffles me is that Margaret, her mother, isnt unwell at all. Shes quite sprightly if you ask me. She could easily manage a part-time job if she fancied. Id take up extra hours myself if we had somebody to watch Emma after nursery. Ive asked Margaret more times than I care to remember if she might look after Emma, but she always refuses, sighing and saying her health isnt up to it.

Then the other day, I found out that Margaret had gone on a holiday, and not to Skegness or Blackpoola proper posh getaway. Laura just announced it offhand, saying shed need me to trek across London to her mums flat and water her plants while shes off sunning herself. I nearly choked on my tea. While I spend my time counting coppers and looking for new ways to save a few quid, shes jetting off and Im left dashing about to fuss over her flaming begonias. It felt like a slap in the facewasting time I could have spent working overtime or finding some other way to supplement our income.

Things became even clearer when I started noticing Margarets new lifestyle. She was turning up at Sunday lunches decked out in expensive jewellery, flaunting those designer dresses and posh handbags. I began to wonder where on earth she was getting the money. All this while Laura was forever lamenting about how her poor mother couldnt afford the rent. Was there some long-lost relative sending her cheques in the post?

But the real twist came when I noticed Laura lugging around that battered old satchel everywhere, the thing always seemed oddly heavy. One afternoon while she was in the shower, I gave in to curiosity and had a quick look inside. There among a tangle of wires and plugs, was a laptop I instantly recognisedit belonged to my mates girlfriend. Next day at work, she mentioned that Laura had started taking on repair jobs in the evenings, tinkering with electronics and making a little on the side. Ah, so thats where the money comes from. When I asked Laura directly if she was giving all of those extra earnings to her mother, she didnt even hesitateshe admitted it in one breath.

So you and Emma and I are patching up old socks while youre dressing your mum in boutique frocks and sending her to the seaside spa? I asked, trying not to lose my temper.

Theyre my earnings. I can spend them as I please, she replied, cold as you like.

That was the last straw for me. If shes so determined to put her mother first, let her go and live with her. Its only fair, isnt it? At the end of the day, Ive learned that you cant build a home on divided loyalties. If one person is always looking out the window at someone else, sooner or later the whole house will fall down.