Knives were out as well as the wine

Kate Livingstone
Kate Livingstone

I had a few friends round for a cheeky glass of prosecco on Saturday night.

The cold weather and dark nights were getting us all down a bit, so I filled the fridge and put on the fire and we got together for a gab.

One of my friends is celebrating the birth of her fifth grandchild.

It’s hard for her, though, as the family lives in Australia, but she told us that she’s planning on visiting soon.

Her son married an Aussie girl years back, and they’ve lived there ever since.

It’s her third grandchild living Down Under, and every time the family grows, she does feel it.

“You can’t just pop round for a cuddle, you can’t just drop in a wee outfit you couldn’t resist at the shops,” she told us.

However, as the alcohol started to flow, she became a bit brighter and started to join a few of the others in one of their favourite hobbies - daughter-in-law bashing!

“I mean, who exactly puts a newborn in demin?” she questioned, with a topped-up drink in her hand.

“That’s nothing,” my other pal piped up.

“At least you don’t have a grandchild named after a fruit.”

It’s fair to say that when Peaches was born, we all had a bit of a giggle, but my friend was less than impressed and blamed her “hippy” daughter-in-law.

May I just say here that, as I don’t have a daughter-in-law, I don’t take part in these chats.

But I know that, no matter what these poor girls call their babies, the fact is that it’s “not one the grans would have chosen”.

Names are a hot topic.

I couldn’t believe my eyes when I read that a French court had stopped parents from naming their child ‘Nutella’.

Instead, the judge helpfully suggested the child be called Ella, rather than be named after a hazelnut spread.

My friends should be very grateful they are not that poor granny - how on earth would you ever face the neighbours?

Moving on from names, the berating of daughters-in-law continued to the “state” of their kitchens, their “fondness” for pinot grigio, and “questionable” dress sense.

However, I must say that during all the (harmless) catty comments, there was one of our number who remained tight-lipped.

Well, her daughter-in-law is my little girl after all!