As a mother, I wanted to support my son and his new wife when they needed a place to stay. But I never imagined I’d be housing such an ungrateful housemate. My daughter-in-law treated my home like a hotel – sleeping all day, eating whatever she pleased, and leaving trails of messes behind her like a spoiled child.
For weeks I bit my tongue, cleaning up after her while she stared at her phone. I made excuses – maybe she was depressed, maybe she just needed time to adjust. But when I served my famous homemade soup, the dish my son had always loved, her response shattered any remaining goodwill.
“Pig food?” I repeated numbly as she turned up her nose at my cooking. The insult echoed in my ears as I felt the warm ladle in my hand. What happened next wasn’t planned – the soup cascading over her perfectly styled hair, her shocked scream, my son’s horrified face.
In that moment, I didn’t see a daughter-in-law – I saw a rude, lazy woman who had crossed the line. “Get out,” I said quietly, surprised at how calm I felt. Sometimes the kindest thing a person can do is show someone the consequences of their actions. Even if it means wearing soup home.
