Mother Accuses Son’s Wife of Ruining All the Celebrations

Dear Diary,

My sons wife has become a constant source of friction at every family gathering. Your wife is ruining all our celebrations, I told Jack today, trying to keep my tone even.

Emily, ever optimistic, called me on video and announced, Shed love to meet tomorrow at a restaurant or café. I responded calmly, Good idea, but let Emily pick the venue herself so we dont end up changing plans while ordering.

Jack, ever the peacemaker, reassured me, Weve already found a place. Theres a brandnew bistro that just opened in our neighbourhood; well try it tomorrow. I sighed, Fine, send me the address and the time we should arrive with your father. He quickly typed out the details and hung up.

A few minutes later I received a text with the address: 12 Willow Lane, Birmingham, and the suggestion to meet at 7p.m. I have two daughtersinlaw and a soninlaw, and my relationships with all of them are fairly smoothexcept with Emily.

Ive never interfered in Emilys life; in fact, I try to keep my distance. The problem is that she lacks basic table manners and seems completely oblivious to any sense of tact.

Just a few months ago we dined out as a family and, instead of enjoying the evening, we were subjected to Emilys endless complaints. She would rant that the dish wasnt to her liking, that the waiter didnt smile, that the menu was too sparse. Because of the last point we even changed restaurants several times that night.

Even then she found something to nitpick. She ordered a salad and asked for no onions. The waiter placed the plate before her and said, Your salad, as requested, without onions. Emily frowned and pointed with a manicured nail at a sprig of dill, Whats that on my salad?

The garnish, the waiter replied, clearly puzzled. I didnt ask for dill on it, she snapped, pursing her lips. If you like, I can take it offI assure you theres no dill in the salad itself.

Take the whole salad away! Youve ruined my appetite. Bring me a milkshake instead, she declared haughtily, turning dramatically toward the window.

The staff complied without protest, but the atmosphere was ruined. Emily sat with her lips pursed and a sour look, while the rest of the family ate and chatted. Going out with her has become a torment.

Even our private family evenings are not immune to her antics. Her capriciousness poisons every meal. At my brotherinlaws funeral, Emily managed to start a scene, shouting, Who cooked these scones? Theyre as tough as rubber! I tried to calm her, Honey, theres no need to make a fuss. Just dont eat them. She retorted, I could cook better for my dog; the drinks and juice are cheap enough for me. Disgusting. I whispered, Were here to remember a loved one, so please show some respect. She muttered, We were invited to mourn, yet theres nothing to mourn. It seemed the incident was over, but it wasnt.

Later that day several relatives called, angry that Emily had complained about the food to them. She was mortified and swore never to bring her daughterinlaw to such events again.

Her birthday was approaching, and Emily and Jack planned to attend. I told everyone I was feeling unwell and postponed the celebration indefinitely. I knew Jack had a work trip scheduled for the end of the month, and I waited for that moment.

I devised a careful plan to celebrate my birthday without Emily. As soon as Jack phoned me from his awaycity, I sent out invitations to the rest of the children, deliberately leaving Emily out of the loop. The party went ahead in a cheerful setting, free of disgruntled guests. No one had to endure any remarks about the food or drinks. For the first time in two years I truly relaxed with my grandchildren.

The happiness was shortlived. The next morning a guest posted photos of the party online, and Emily saw them. Hello, Natalie, she snapped over the phone, Did you have a birthday party without me? I could only sigh, Yes, weve been delayed for weeks, thats all. She demanded, Why wasnt I invited? I replied, Jack was away on work, and we thought youd be bored alone.

She shot back, Im never bored with you lot. Why didnt you wait for Jacks return? I hesitated, then blurted, Because his wife spoils every celebration with her sour face! Regret washed over me instantly.

Emilys voice cracked, What? Im the one ruining everything? I thought you were a kind woman, not a snake! She hung up, tears streaming down her cheeks.

A few hours later Jack called, furious. Why are you treating my wife like this? What did we ever do to you? My sons anger was palpable.

I havent done anything to you, but Emily constantly ruins celebrations, and you never put her in her place, I said, laying my cards on the table.

Jack stared, How does she ruin them?

With her endless complaints and nitpicking. You cant even go to a restaurant without a drama, nor sit at a family table without her whining about everything. Shes never satisfied.

Emily, I told him, is straightforward and honest, unlike you, and she treats you like a mother.

Jack countered, Straightforwardness isnt the same as rudeness. If she wants to be like a daughter, she should behave appropriately, not like a petulant child!

I softened, Fine, Ill keep an eye on her and teach her how to behave. In return, promise to always invite Emily to family events.

Jack, surprisingly conciliatory, replied, Deal, but only if you take responsibility. Lets see how it goes at the next gathering.

Of course, Emily has not changed. She still tries to keep a lid on herself, but it rarely works. Im left with no choice but to turn a blind eye to her outbursts. I no longer want to argue with Jack, so I have chosen the lesser of two evils.

All that remains is to hope that someday, perhaps, Emily will learn to be a proper guest rather than a perpetual storm cloud.

Natalie.