Teaching My Mother-in-Law a Lesson on Mother’s Day: How Sasha Used British Wit (and a Surprise Visit…

Taught my mother-in-law a lesson on Mothers Day.

“Look, Emma, this cant go on. If your mum acts like this right from the start of our marriage, whats going to happen when we have children? Shell be camped out in our flat day and night!” Oliver complains to his wife after hearing that her mother intends to keep dropping by unannounced. “Well never have a moments peace!”

“If Mrs. Margaret doesnt understand words, then tomorrow Ill call the locksmith and have the locks changed!” Oliver mutters angrily.

“Come on, Olly, shes still my mumhardly a stranger! Shell manage to get a key sooner or later, and what then? Are you going to replace the locks every time? Shell be pretty upset if she finds out weve changed them, you know. We need to talk to her properly so she realises this isnt on!” Emma stops him in his tracks.

“Emma, your mum doesn’t seem to get a word I say, or even notice if I throw my arms about in my sleep! Drastic measures are needed,” Oliver continues in a serious tone.

“What exactly are you planning?” Emma asks, eyes wide and suspicious.

“So, am I right in thinking your mum has got a key to our flatwhich must mean youve got a key to your parents house?” Oliver asks, making Emma raise an eyebrow.

Early on a Saturday morning, Margaret and her husband Peter decide to visit the local market, being held for Mothers Day. There, one can pick up local produce cheaper than the supermarket. Particularly the pensioners dont mind waking at the crack of dawn to save a few quid on eggs.

“Well done, Peter, weve got a nice bit of beef. And look at those carpproper beauties, theyre still flapping in the bag. Ill fry one for us now, then take the other over to Emma later. Bet our silly Ollie will be startled if he hears a live fish rustling about in the bag!” Margaret laughs to herself, imagining her son-in-laws reaction.

“Honestly, loveleave the kids alone, will you?” Peter sighs. “Theyre thirty, for goodness sake! Let them get on with their own lives without you poking about like Miss Marple, investigating where Olivers dropped his socks. Dont you have anything better to do?” he tries to reason with his wife.

“Hang on,” Margaret interrupts him. “Did you leave the shower running, Peter? Listen, do you hear that water?” Without a second thought, she goes to check the bathroom and comes shooting straight out again.

“Oh my word! Theres a naked man in our shower!” Margaret shrieks, running around the house in panic.

“Whos naked? Explain yourself, please!” Peter calls out, wary of entering the bathroom.

“Its Oliver! Whats he doing in my house?!” Margaret squeals.

“Trying to wash up. The water in our place is rusty, and after work I was drippingI didn’t fancy going to bed all filthy, so I thought Id pop over and use your shower,” Oliver replies, stepping out in a bathrobe as if he owns the place.

“By the way, Mrs. Margaret, as its nearly Mothers Day, I wanted to make a polite suggestion. Its not really appropriate to hang laundry all over the radiators and towel railespecially if its not the delicate stuff of a young girl. Honestly, Peter, I dont envy you!” Oliver strolls into the kitchen, switching on Margarets beloved coffee machine to make himself a drink.

“How dare you! My housemy rules! Ill dry my knickers wherever I like!” Margaret fumes.

“And to think Emma and I only got you that coffee machine six months ago. Look at the state of it! You should really clean it at least once a weekthere are cleaner pigsties at the farm!” Oliver scolds her.

“Now, Olly, youre going too far” Peter tries to step in for his wife.

“Oh, am I, Peter? Just look at your wifes kitchenabsolute chaos, its like an abandoned shed in here! Everythings chucked everywhere.”

“Honestly, Mrs. Margaret, a year in the army would sort you outmight finally teach you some order,” Oliver continues, wandering the flat and pointing out her every failing.

“And the fridge! I couldnt resist taking a look. The sour cream and mayoboth out of date for two weeks! Cheese left unwrapped and drying out.”

Oliver proceeds to throw expired foods into the bin without mercy.

“And thisleaving half-eaten porridge to crust in the bowl! Do you know how hard that is to wash off? Or do you think just because youve got a dishwasher you can do what you like?” Oliver moves toward the dishwasher, but Margaret swiftly blocks him, chin raised in challenge.

“Enough! Get out of my houseor Ill call the police and report you for breaking in! I dont care if youre my son-in-lawyoull be in trouble, Olly, I promise! My house, my kitchen, my bathroom, my knickersand no one gave you the right to waltz in here and lecture me!” Margaret bellows.

Peter, meanwhile, just chuckles, having figured out Olivers plan, while Margaret, in her fury, remains oblivious.

“See, Mrs. Margaret, thats exactly the reaction I expected,” Oliver sighs in relief, giving her a cheeky smile. “Everything youve just shouted at methink about it, please, because thats exactly how Emma and I have been feeling every time you burst into our flat for a surprise inspection. And by the way, if you so much as threaten us with the police again, I wont hesitate to return the favour. Still, I hope youve got the message and it doesnt come to that.” Oliver, now changed into his jeans and jacket, ties his laces and prepares to leave.

“Anyway, Peter, Margaret, happy Mothers Day to you both! Peter, your favourite brandys in the kitchen, and for you, Mrs. Margareta bottle of lovely wine and that perfume Emma said you adore.” Oliver gives a much gentler smile, softly closes the door, and disappears from the flat.

Margaret, jittery from the whole ordeal, pours herself a glass of brandy, knocks it back, and washes it down with coffee Oliver thoughtfully made using her now-cleaned coffee machine.

“Ah, Margaret, you have to admit Ollys a real diplomatstaged the whole thing perfectly! Sharp but effectiveand left a sweet aftertaste, Id say,” Peter muses, examining the expensive brandy, the perfume, and an interesting bottle of medium-dry.

“Well, love, happy Mothers Day! Looks like Olly was the first to wish you well this yearand you got the full works: a bit of theatre, a glass of brandy, some new scent, and a reason to wear your best frock and head for a show.” Peter winks, pulling out two tickets to ‘A Rascals Adventures’ from under the bread bin.

After that day, Margaret stopped popping round Emma and Olivers flat for no good reason and without warning. She took no offence at Emma or her son-in-law, respecting the cleverness of his gesture. Clear boundaries were set, and yet no one felt hurtand at last, Oliver could get a proper sleep after work without worrying Margaret would be rifling through his socks in the wardrobe.