The Mother-in-Law

Those words are quite enough to strike the fear of God in many a newly married couple. Or even those who have yet to join hands in state of matrimony. All it needs is the sheer mention of the words to have wide-eyed panic written in their faces followed by an insane impulse to spring-clean the entire house before the monstrous harridan descends.

Let's face it, hell hath no fury like a mother-in-law scorned.

Fortunately mine - the aforementioned Madame Borgia - weaves her deviant machinations in the family country estate several miles south of Netherfield and rarely, if ever, makes any attempt to interfere in the everyday workings of my life. Every time Madame Borgia does actually insert herself into my orbit, I tend to prostrate myself as the sweet, obedient supplicant son-in-law willing to bend over backwards to gratify her. Butter definitely wouldn't melt in my mouth. Even as I write this, I already have the beginnings of a Christmas hamper waiting to be deposited at her front door in a month's time.


Paul : Watch your step.
Calvin : What step?
Unfortunately for Charming Calvin, my mother is a tad more exacting. Though she might not seem quite as unaccommodating, her charming looks can deceive since her critical eyes miss very little. Woe betide the unfortunate son or daughter-in-law who doesn't meet her intimidatingly high expectations.

So ever since I came out to her, I think my managing mother has been looking askance at Calvin, possibly anticipating the inevitable clumsy misstep for her to pounce on. No doubt to prove I'm heading down that dangerous path towards an appalling mésalliance.

Of course utterly unaware of the arduous tasks that lie before him, Calvin lives in charming ignorance. Such sly domestic intrigues would probably slip by him unnoticed!

Calvin : Your mother called to ask me for directions to the hospital. She's visiting a friend there.
Paul : And you just gave her the directions?
Calvin : Yes, I told her how to get there.
Paul : And she seemed lost?
Calvin : Well she didn't really know how to get there.
Paul : And she's going on a Sunday and you're at home?
Calvin : Probably at home yeah.
Paul : And the hospital's just next door?
Calvin : Well, maybe two blocks away.
Paul : Oh dammit.
Calvin : Why?
Paul : You're supposed to make an offer to drive her!
Calvin : I am?
Paul : Dammit! You missed the opportunity.
Calvin : What opportunity?
Paul : Hmm. Now how do I salvage this... What you have to do is call and ask her out for lunch after. Excuse yourself for earlier by saying you had pressing work.
Calvin : I must?
Paul : Just do it. Dammit, I think she's calling me now.

So the queen has made her move. Doesn't mean I don't have some tricks up my sleeve yet.