It has been four weeks since I got engaged and I have discovered a common thread linking the conversations that follow my announcement. Usually within five minutes into the hand shakes, the back slaps and the hearty congratulations, the question is usually raised, “Your mum must be happy?”
And you know what? She is.
Well have a look at the wonderful pearls of motherly wisdom that I sometimes overhear.
“Thank God! Someone else can take care of him.”
“Imagine all the Avon boxes I can pile into his room.”
“Oh that poor girl, what is she getting herself into?”
“Darren, how does she put up with you?”
And let’s not forget the conversation I overheard last week, when Marina was telling her about a recently received enagement present.
“A few of the teachers at work got together and got us a really nice crystal vase,” Marina said.
“Wow,” my mum responded, “that must be pretty heavy.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty solid.”
“Good! You can throw it at him when he is being an idiot.”
Yes, it’s fairly obvious my mum is happy. She is happy that she can get rid of me. I would say that the feeling is mutual, but I have an inheritance to think of.
As does my mother.
Case in point. When Marina and I told my mother that we had decided the date of the wedding, there was a pause, before a pervasive chesire grin filled her face. I deluded myself into thinking that this was a smile of joy, after all, her only son is getting married.
The reality of the situation became apparent later.
My grandfathers’s 90th birthday is a week after our wedding and my mum was slowly setting into motion the plans to have her own party. When exactly was this party? Why, the day after our wedding of course, because “it was convient.”
“Darren,” my mum told me, “That is great that your wedding is when it is, because all the relatives will be here and it will be great occasion. It is your grandfathers 90th after all.”
Exactly. Why have wedding, when you can have 90th birthday party.
So there you go folks, my mum is ectstatic, not because I am getting married, but because my wedding provided the perfect solution to her problem of how to get my numerous relatives to come up and celebrate my grandad’s birthday.
And you know what? I am sure the machievellian machinations of my mother is just beginning and this appearance will not be her last in the blogsphere. Who knows when or where she will strike next? But in any case I gurantee to keep you updated
Till next time…
