(I’m well aware of the irony that this post presents, considering my previous one. What can I say? Take it in your stride, I’m still figuring it all out…)
I may have mentioned the Georgette Heyer phase I’m currently going through (John Grisham, you still have my heart and when someone decides to buy me your new book, our love will be requited). I’ll admit it now, her novels lack a little intrigue and are as obvious as a new Jennifer Aniston movie’s plot, but when compared to the other crap that lines so many of our shelves, she’s a winning author. The English is beautiful and the way in which the characters interact is charming. Blah blah, ja I hate myself a little too now. Fact is, if I have to read some average novel when I want to relax, I’d prefer one with proper grammar.
In any case, I was visiting the area in which my prospective mother-in-law resides and decided that the only proper thing to do would be to pay an obligatory social call this morning and pay my respects (present my acquaintance? Give my address?). 100 years ago this would have been the correct thing to do, but these days I feel a little old-fashioned.
Really, if you had a suitor courting you, you would have to impress him mother-in-law or fear that the marriage may be banned. Today, I’m worried about the censure of my peers (and his sister) for being a brown-noser. Sigh, how things have moved on.
I have decided, as part of my growing up phase, that I no longer care what people think (famous last words). Watching the centuries old tradition of women being hassled by their mothers-in-law about, well, everything, I’d like to do everything in my power to make sure that our relationship is a good one.
Plus, I’m hardly likely to say no to earl grey tea and a massive slice of lemon meringue. Shallow much?
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