Martha and i are fairly good friends now. But our first acquaintance was on an unpleasant note because she started off as —
Life has not been the same since Martha came. She was originally supposed to be our servant. She was invited home one day in late September, a couple of weeks after my birthday, by my husband and our son. My husband, who had conveniently forgotten to give me a present for my birthday, decided to dub her my belated birthday present.
My birthday present? Servant? What a joke! She became the queen of our lives. She was put up in the better bedroom of the house. Right from day one she started ruling over our family. She captivated the hearts of my middle aged husband and twenty-ish son. They simply adored her. They wanted to spend all their time at home with her. In the pre-Martha days, my husband used to call me (when he was in a good mood) the heart of the home. Now Martha became that. Rather, the queen of hearts of the home. Before she came, both my husband and son used to 'Hi' me and sometimes even stop to chat when they came home. No more. They would rush straight looking for her. Or if they address me at all, it is to ask about Martha. Is she alright? Is she comfortable? What did she do today?
Disgusting, really! Of course, Martha is young, pretty, brainy. In all honesty i have to admit that though i can't help casting the green eye on her. She is charming. I can well understand my son's feeling for her. He is a young man. But my not-young husband, shouldn't he have a bit more sense?
After days of hair-pulling and nail-biting, i decided to put on my thinking cap. Then light dawned: the saying “If you can't beat ‘em, join ‘em.” I decided to join them. Make friends with Martha too. Love her as they do. Kiss her feet, figuratively.
I approached gingerly as she was sitting regally in her room. I talked to her, sweet words hiding a bitter heart. I requested her to do some work. But Martha is no fool. My sugar-words did not deceive her. She repulsed me bluntly and flatly refused to do my bidding. I was stymied. In a panic i called up my son, telling him Martha's rude to me, is misbehaving with me, and so forth. He, the boy i had borne and brought up, had the cheek to reply that Martha would not misbehave if i treat her right!
Anyhow, i swallowed my pride and asked him what i should do. He told me. Then slowly, with a lot of bungling on my part and rude rebuffs on hers, we started to get along. The animosity between us melted gradually. She is learning to tolerate me and i am trying to forgive her for stealing my family's affections from me. We may never become the best of friends but we can at least learn to live under the same roof. I am even beginning to be glad that Martha came home. After all, she is a good PC (HCL Pentium 3).