I was sitting on the porch of a massive white-pillared mansion, listening to my friend Margaret list off her gifts like a scoreboard.
She gestured to the sprawling estate and told me that when her first child was born, her husband built her this house as a reward. I just smiled and said, “Well, isn’t that nice?” She then pointed to a shiny Cadillac in the driveway, explaining it was the gift for her second child. Again, I told her how nice that was.
When she showed off a diamond bracelet from her third child, I gave her the same polite response, watching her wait for me to finally be impressed by her life of luxury.
Margaret finally asked what my husband gave me when I had my first child, clearly expecting something far less impressive. I leaned in with a sly smile and told her that he had sent me to charm school.
She looked completely baffled, asking why I would ever need something like that instead of jewelry or a car. I just laughed and told her the truth: I went to charm school so that instead of saying “Who gives a crap,” I could learn to say “Well, isn’t that nice.”
It was the first time all day she was actually quiet. Sometimes, the best gift is simply the ability to hide your real thoughts behind a polite smile.
Later that afternoon, we started talking about our grown children and how their marriages had turned out. Margaret’s face fell into a scowl as she started venting about her son’s wife. She called the marriage a total disaster, complaining that the girl was incredibly lazy.
According to her, the daughter-in-law didn’t lift a finger and spent all day lounging in bed reading while her poor son actually brought her breakfast on a tray every single morning. She acted like her son was a servant to an ungrateful woman. I listened to her go on about the unfairness of it all, waiting for her to mention her daughter, who I knew had also married recently.
The second Margaret mentioned her daughter, her entire demeanor changed. Her eyes lit up, and she called her daughter’s husband an absolute angel. She told me how lucky her daughter was because her husband insisted she shouldn’t do a single thing around the house.
He made sure she could sleep as late as she wanted and brought her breakfast in bed every morning so she could just relax.
It was hilarious to watch her praise the exact same behavior in her son-in-law that she had just trashed in her daughter-in-law. It proves that in this life, whether someone is an “angel” or just “lazy” usually depends on whose kid you’re talking about.
