Fish and Chips, Again

My husband hates Saturdays; this outing every week for fish and chips is killing him. I wonder at what point did my mother-in-law's old age become synonymous with dictatorship? There is this border at which the old forsake their independence and need to be cared for but I do not think there is ever a time the old forsake their own desires. Is it such a big deal to go out for fish and chips every week? Do you think you could do it, asks the writer, whose husband is well past 104 trips to the local fish and chip shop? We've had to cut back on the weekly jaunts to the Swiss Chalet because my mother-in-law no longer wanted to pay for the children (well, they're teens, now) and it was getting expensive; she made a point of telling me she would take me but not the children. So, we do not go unless I pay which, trust me, I cannot afford on a weekly basis. Good food and all, but I cannot afford it. There is a strange feeling of having to acquiesce to all the matriarch's wants and, yet, resenting the fact she is selfish. Is it wrong for me to wonder why she hasn't clued in that going to the fish and chip shop is not the best for my husband? I have told her it is not good for his health; she did miss one Saturday and, then, she asked to go back again. Why doesn't he say, "No?" I was quite clear about the Swiss Chalet. It is this particular aspect of old age with which I find it difficult to live: I do not believe seniority gives one the right to be selfish. I don't think selfishness develops as part of old age; I tend to think one has always been selfish and it can either become more entrenched or one can try to change it. I think this way of thinking explains loneliness, too.