My husband is the most practical man alive. I am not a materialistic person, but even I baulk at his painfully logical ideas on occasion. He has been brought up to feel himself undeserving of enjoyment and 'self-investment'.
The law of practicality reigns supreme in the mind of my husband and his immediate family. His mother makes a lot of "well, if that's what you like ..." sort of noises about our house, which leads me to believe that I have succeeded in creating a unique atmosphere.
I think at least half of her displeasure stems from the fact that some of what we do is not 100% necessary.
Yes, that's right folks, we commit the crime of the superfluous. Plants. Bright coloured walls. A daybed. Decorations !. Things we do not need, but merely like. Things that make us smile. Things we enjoy. The nerve of us !.
My ongoing battle to persuade my husband to expend some money in pursuit of non-practical things has a special meaning to me. His parents make themselves miserable and wanted him to go the same way. Guilt can do things to a man.
I hate it that my husbands' need for practicality stems from childhood role models who encouraged martyrdom as a virtue to let the world see your pious pride.
So, as far as my husbands parents are concerned, if they feel the need to continue to insist that it's selfish of their hard-working son to want a homely environment, then they probably don't belong in our house anyway.