When my mother-in-law moved in during her home renovation, I thought the constant criticism of my cooking was bad enough.
But when my meals started vanishing while my husband and I were at work, and she denied being the culprit, I knew I had to find a way to expose her.
A few months ago, my mother-in-law, Gwendolyn, decided to renovate her house, starting with her kitchen.
She ripped out perfectly good cabinets and tore up the old linoleum floor without thinking twice.
The issue is that she didn’t bother to budget for any of this chaos.
Even worse, the contractor kept finding new problems, adding expenses left and right.
Additionally, some of their work required her to be away, as it was dangerous for her health.
Unfortunately, the renovation turned into a money pit quickly and her bank account was drying up faster than a puddle in the desert.
My husband, Sammy, and I sat at our kitchen table, staring at his phone as she explained this little situation. First, she detailed all the new things she was adding to her house, like a better sink. Then she revealed what she wanted from us.
“I just can’t possibly afford a hotel while the work gets done,” Gwendolyn said, using just the perfect amount of desperation in her voice to convince Sammy.
“And you know how sensitive my sinuses are. I simply can’t stay in one of those budget motels.”
Just as I expected, my husband gave me that pleading puppy-dog look he always got when his mother needed something. With a deep breath, I nodded.
“Of course, Gwendolyn, you can stay with us,” I said, already regretting the words as they left my mouth.
“Oh, wonderful!” she exclaimed. “I knew I could count on my darling boy. And you too, of course, Paulina.”
After she hung up, I told Sammy I wanted to set some ground rules in writing.
I wanted to protect us. Luckily, he agreed. I printed out some boundaries and stipulations for her stay and asked her to sign them.
Gwendolyn wasn’t too pleased about signing anything, but she didn’t have another option.
Besides, we figured her stay would be a few weeks, tops. But, oh boy, were we wrong.
The weeks stretched into months, with no end to the renovation in sight. Each update from the contractor brought new delays and complications.
But that wouldn’t be a problem if Gwendolyn’s attitude wasn’t so terrible.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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