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Tuesday, 2 January 2007

Christmas Presents

What does it say about what my mother-in-laws' opinion of me that she gave me an ironing board cover for Christmas? Yes, it was a Cath Kidston ironing board cover, in a wonderful china blue with big red cabbage roses on it, but it was still an ironing board cover.

I wonder if she is trying to entice me into performing more household tasks myself - through accessorising my ironing board with my favourite designers wares? Or was she simply noticing that I like Cath Kidston, and buying me more of my favourite accessories? I wonder if she thinks I am lazy? I suppose she could be telling me to take better care of her son. I have never washed or ironed his shirts - or anything else of his for that matter - well you don't usually perform that task for flat mates - so why should I do it for James when we moved in together (I am embarrassed to admit that we were married by that time). He has never been great at ironing or washing clothes himself - always preferring to have them collected and laundered and ironed and delivered to his door.

When we were married first, he popped a pair of blue jeans in the washing machine with a pillow case full of my fabulous 'La Perla' and 'Aubade' underwear that I was about to wash at 30 degrees, and the whole lot went chewing gum grey - all the feathers and spangles dropped off too. He flipped the heat control to 90 degrees! I seem to remember him offering me £100 to replace the lot - that wouldn't even have replaced a single item. Poor boy, he had no idea.

No, these complex domestic tasks are best left to the experts - or in our case - our wonderful cleaner Liliana. She is meticulous in her attention to detail. Everything is carefully laundered or dry cleaned, ironed or pressed and arrives back in the wardrobe like magic! Actually, my mother-in-law gave Liliana an envelope stuffed with cash at Christmas, and on reflection, the ironing board cover is indirectly for Liliana too.

I have just realised, my mother-in-law hates me. She would clearly prefer it for James to be married to Liliana.

My father-in-law however, gave me (as usual) a very generous gift voucher for the fabulous jewellers in their village in Wales. I used it in the sale, to buy some tasteful South Sea black pearl earrings - I think that is why my mother-in-law hates me. He bought her a new ironing board!


Julius Seizer said...

Reminds me of the comedy sit-com 'Everybody loves Raymond'. Raymond's mother is subtly critical of his wife. But of course it's funny on the television.

In real life you perhaps have to decide how badly you need your mother-in-law's good opinion. If it's nice to have but not essential then let it flow over you.

No point in making yourself miserable when there's so much more to life.

Happy new year..!

Anonymous said...

hey, merry x-mas n a happy 2007....don't be so upset about your mother in law's x-mas gift....look at it this way....even if she was trying to tell you "give more attention to home"....she's done it in a special keeping your favourite designer in mind while selecting a gift...proves that she cares for you.

Anonymous said...

Oh. My. God!
Your other commenters seam to have entirely missed the point and assume that you are keeping a genuine and accurate diary! rather than trying out the script for the next BLOCKBUSTER sit com.
Do they listen to Claire in the Community (R4) and think that all social workers think and speak and behave like that all the time? Clearly!
This is comedy folks.
Lighten up!!

Anonymous said...

Lol, this really rings a bell with me. My ex MIL gave me clothes pegs, a measuring jug and some stock cubes one year.

dulwichmum said...

I am speachless!

nunhead mum of one said...

Dear me, do you want to know what my mother-in-law bought me? That rather fetching puffa jacket (circa 1987) that you saw me wearing in Dulwich Park on Sunday. I was only wearing it because my other warm jacket was in the BMW. Forgive me not stopping to chat but I feared the reek of mothballs would cause you hives. Mackenzie only coped because of his height and the dog didn’t seem to notice, probably because he’d just rolled in something that had recently been evacuated from a horses bottom.

I swear that I had seen that jacket over the summer, stuck in the back of her wardrobe along with the other charity shop rejects. David tells me that I’m wrong of course but he would say that. He was treated to a new set of golf clubs (I had already been pressured by Er Indoors to buy him a new case) complete with covers and those little things they rest their balls on. And I got the Jacket of Death. After I had laid out a hundred quid on a voucher for a spa day for her. I tell you, she’s getting the worst that the Sue Ryder shop has to offer for her birthday. I’ll keep you posted. See you at the school gates.