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!

My Grandma

My grandma was Irish and had fourteen children. She lived in a two up two down terraced house, and when my grandpa passed away, she turned to gin. She was a character.

When we visited her as children, she never knew our names. Each member of her brood had been "blessed" (ha!) with at least half a dozen children of their own, and when we came to visit, so did they - so that everyone would have the opportunity to meet up every year. Aunts and uncles galore from Scotland, the USA, Australia, England - all over, and children everywhere, in a tiny terraced house in Dublin.

Grandma would answer the front door, enormous and rather pale with a glass in her hand, and say;

"Oh God no, not you again" and she wasn't joking.

She would shout:

"Who owns that one, that one with the green jacket/yellow hat/red hair" (referring to her various grandchildren), and further: "Get him"or "her off my dog/off my curtains/out of my china cabinet" etc, with a liberal use of the capital letter "F".

We were in Dulwich Park this afternoon, and there was a small child being pushed along asleep in a pram by a grandparent, with another grandparent behind, pushing along an empty trike, and another pushing along a scooter, and another pushing along a 'Little Tykes' plastic car. Four grandparents, with four vehicles, and one small sleeping child.

When my friend Lara gave birth to her son a few years ago, as both of her parents have remarried, and both of her partners parents had remarried, there was almost a 'set to' at the hospital as all of the grandparents wanted to buy the pram! Eight grandparents! This is true, and not unusual I am led to believe.

Children these days get too much.

My grandma didn't even know our names, and she didn't care who we were as long as we left her dog alone and played quietly in the corner with the matches.