Flowers On Her Radar
All week long, I’ve been half-expecting my mother-in-law to call and express her displeasure over the fact that we won’t be spending the Thanskgiving holiday with my husband’s family. After years of spending this four-day weekend driving 1,000+ miles and sleeping on a lumpy futon sofa, I think we’re entitled to stay home and relax by ourselves for a change.
I’m certain she doesn’t agree though and no doubt I’ll get an earful the next time I see her. I’m hoping to defray some of the nagging by surprising her with a flower delivery later today. As I’ve discovered, a well-timed bouquet makes her forgive a whole lot of wrongs, or at least keeps her mouth shut about them.
See, a few years back I forgot my mother-in-law’s birthday. Granted, my husband should’ve remembered the date — after all, she’s his mother — but ordinarily I’m the one to keep track of such things. That year, I completely forgot about it and to make matters worse, we were actually visiting their house at the time. We’d planned the trip to coincide with her birthday, even, but I still managed to forget the big day. (No doubt a therapist would probably say there’s more to it than that)
That particular morning, my mother-in-law was quiet and sullen — more so than usual — and neither VH nor I could figure out why. The tension kept growing all morning long, and I began thinking perhaps we should consider heading home a few days early. Then I glanced at the calendar and saw the date circled with big red letters proclaiming: “It’s My Birthday!”
DOH!
I elbowed VH and nodded toward the calendar, then announced to everyone that I needed to take a walk. Of course, I took my cell phone along with me so I could place a call to an online florist for an emergency, same-day delivery. Three very tense hours later, a bouquet of her favorite blossoms and Happy Birthday balloons arrived and — voila! — all was forgiven. Thank goodness, too: she’d grown so surly about the whole situation that I’d started to worry that I was going to have to sleep with one eye open that night.
Since then, I’ve made it a point to have a bouquet delivered to my mother-in-law pretty much any time she gets ticked off with me over something, big or small. It’s getting to be such a frequent thing that I probably should consider signing up for one of those flower-of-the-month clubs to save myself a few bucks, but I suspect she’d catch on when my apology gifts all began to arrive on the same day every month.
Then again, maybe the reason for the gift doesn’t matter as much to her as the act of obeisance itself? Perhaps that’s the actual gift: knowing that, regardless of whether I agree with her or not, I’m less interested in arguing with her than I am in appeasing her to avoid an even bigger battle. Which makes me wonder: has she always let go of petty squabbles so long as the other person sets aside their pride and shows her some appreciation?
It sure would explain how my husband learned to send flowers every time we have a tiff, now, wouldn’t it?
Peculiarly enough, even after my ex-wife tied a can to my tail, I got along well with my ex-mother-in-law. Of course, she had more than enough problems (including a schizophrenic daughter (not my then wife)) to ignore me.
Of course, everyone associated with me knows that I ignore birthdays, and almost all other holidays. Starting with the divorce, I do (initially to annoy my ex-wife, but now a pleasant tradition) give $XX (less than $100) to my ex-step-children and my ex-nieces at Christmas.
I cannot imagine a mother-in-law such as yours. My parents kept out of my failed marriage; at the time of the divorce, they just insisted that my then wife sign a quit-claim deed on the land in Iowa. (In fairness to my ex-wife, she did; and even paid the notary public fee.)
Well, actually I can imagine; but I thought that such women occurred only in novels.
It helps that my mother-in-law lives 500+ miles away, and that when we were first married my husband had enough foresight to talk me out of moving to Minnesota to live closer to his family. Little did I know at the time that I’d be grateful for every inch of space between us.
If you can fix the problem with flowers, you don’t have a problem.
I think I’ll start sending flowers to myself everytime she offends me. My house will look like somebody died with all those flowers, but maybe she won’t be able to find me in them.
Hey, now, that’s not a bad idea!