My Entitled Parents Demanded That I Give Them My New House — My In-Laws Suddenly Stood up for Me

When Carina’s parents kick her out after high school, she has no choice but to navigate her way around life. Years later, after making a success of her life, and her wedding is around the corner, she reaches out to them, only for them to storm into her life, trying to take ownership of what she has worked so hard for.

“Carina,” my mother said, opening a packet of biscuits. “You’re going to regret not going to medical school.”

“Mom,” I replied. “My brain doesn’t work like Jade’s; she’s the doctor in the family, not me.”

A packet of biscuits | Source: Midjourney

A packet of biscuits | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t see why it can’t be the both of you,” she sniffed, dunking a biscuit into her lukewarm tea. “Why do you even waste your time with computers? Those machines are not going to make your life comfortable.”

This wasn’t anything new. My parents hated that I loved computers, and when school was out in the next few months, I was going to be off to college, studying IT.

A girl sitting with a laptop and headphones | Source: Midjourney

A girl sitting with a laptop and headphones | Source: Midjourney

“Who cares about cyber security, Carina?” my father asked while he sat down with a pork chop. “Saving people’s lives, honey. That’s what success is. Not playing on computers.”

“Cyber security is how your important details are protected, Dad,” I would always say, rolling my eyes. “It’s how countries keep their people safe.”

Pork chops on a plate | Source: Unsplash

Pork chops on a plate | Source: Unsplash

“It’s not good enough,” my mother said from the sink.

After graduation, my parents made me leave the house.

“You’ve chosen this path,” my mother said when I bought my IT textbooks. “So you’re capable of taking care of yourself.”

A pile of books | Source: Midjourney

A pile of books | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t think that’s fair, Mom,” I retaliated. “You let Jade live at home for her whole degree.”

“Yeah, well, she was learning how to save lives, Carina,” she said.

A woman looking through a microscope | Source: Pexels

A woman looking through a microscope | Source: Pexels

Fast forward 13 years. I’ve got a successful career, a beautiful house, and the most caring fiancé, Mark, I could have ever asked for.

“Are you sure that I should invite my parents to the wedding?” I asked Mark as we took a walk one evening.

“Yes, darling,” he said, taking my hand. “Why wouldn’t you? I’m so proud of who you are and where you’ve come from. You’ve done all of this on your own.”

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

“But they’ve been such horrible people, Mark. I mean, they kicked me out of their home when I got into college. I had to work as a dog groomer to make enough money to cover the rent for my tiny apartment,” I said.

“Yes, I understand that,” my fiancé said diplomatically. “But you’ve made it now. And you’ve made it without them. Look, honey. Our home is yours; it’s in your name, and I love that for us.”

A person grooming a dog | Source: Pexels

A person grooming a dog | Source: Pexels

Eventually, I gave in. The excitement of our wedding planning made me realize that I was proud of myself and where I had come from.

“I did it without their support,” I told Mark as I fried bacon for us one morning. “So, I’m going to invite them.”

Mark smiled at me while he poured milk into his coffee.

A person pouring milk into coffee | Source: Unsplash

A person pouring milk into coffee | Source: Unsplash

“Good, this is a big moment for us,” he said.

When my parents and sister arrived, they were stunned by my house. They assumed that I was renting a room of the house. Of course, they didn’t think that I was capable of something bigger and better than that.

A beautiful home with a large garden | Source: Midjourney

A beautiful home with a large garden | Source: Midjourney

“Carina! You own this entire house?” my father asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Yes, Dad,” I said, wheeling my mother’s suitcase in, they seemed to think that they were spending the night. “I worked hard for this.”

A suitcase in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A suitcase in a living room | Source: Midjourney

“Wow, I didn’t expect this,” my sister said, looking around.

“So, I thought that we could do dinner at a restaurant tonight, and then come home for dessert and coffee. You guys can spend time with Mark and my in-laws.”

They were going to be over at any moment, the first meet and greet almost underway.

But that’s when the entitlement kicked in.

A beautiful living room | Source: Unsplash

A beautiful living room | Source: Unsplash

My mother’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the living room, taking in my television and other things.

“You know, Carina,” she declared, her tone leaving no room for argument. “We deserve to live in comfort after all we’ve done for you.”

Then, she promptly sat down on the couch.

An older woman sitting | Source: Pexels

An older woman sitting | Source: Pexels

“Mom, what are you talking about?” I was incredulous. “This is my home. I bought it with my own money. You did absolutely nothing for me after high school.”

“But we’re your parents,” she insisted. “We should live better than our children. It’s our right. It’s the only right thing.”

“You can’t be serious,” I said, my voice rising. “Jade still lives with you because you wanted to baby her after her night shifts. And me? You didn’t care. This isn’t my responsibility.”

An older woman looking around | Source: Pexels

An older woman looking around | Source: Pexels

My father stepped in at this point, crossing his arms.

“After everything we’ve sacrificed for you, this is the least you can do.”

“Jade needs a place to stay, too,” my mother said.

“Jade is an adult,” I snapped. “She made her choice to live with you, just like I made my own.”

An older man | Source: Unsplash

An older man | Source: Unsplash

I felt bad that I was speaking about Jade in this way, especially because she was sitting on the couch and looking at my plants.

But my sister had chosen my parents when they kicked me out. She barely kept in contact with me, only stopping to text me on my birthday or Christmas morning.

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Unsplash

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Unsplash

At that moment, the door opened, and my future in-laws walked in. I had always been close to them, wanting to find parental figures in Mark’s parents.

“We’ve been hearing this entire conversation from outside,” Tom said.

“Carina’s achievements are hers,” my future mother-in-law, Carol, said firmly. “She’s worked hard for this, and she deserves every bit of it.”

A smiling woman holding a bouquet of flowers | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman holding a bouquet of flowers | Source: Pexels

My mother turned to her, eyes blazing.

“Who the hell are you? We have rights to this house; she’s our daughter.”

Carol didn’t flinch; she stood with her arms folded, a smile playing across her face.

“Why did you remember that only now? Where have you been all these years? Being her parents doesn’t mean that you can take credit for her hard work. Carina has earned this.”

An angry old woman | Source: Pexels

An angry old woman | Source: Pexels

My parents were stunned into silence, and Jade couldn’t even look up.

“Carina invited you to celebrate her wedding, to celebrate the union of her and our son. To join our families. She did not invite you to berate her and have her hard work claimed,” Tom said.

“She owes you nothing but respect because you raised her, but that doesn’t mean giving up her home,” Carol said.

A young mother and daughter | Source: Pexels

A young mother and daughter | Source: Pexels

“But we’re her family,” my mother said, clearly not expecting this level of pushback.

“Only by blood,” Mark said, stepping into the house. “Family supports one another. They don’t tear you down. And that’s what you’ve done to Carina for years.”

“You should be so proud of your girl,” Carol continued. “She’s done so much for us. I am so proud of her. Tom, too. She’s the daughter that I wanted all along.”

A smiling man | Source: Pexels

A smiling man | Source: Pexels

Mark found his way to me, wrapping his arm around my waist.

I looked at my parents, seeing the dawning realization on their faces.

“I love you, I do,” I said. “But this is my life, and you’ve only been in it again for five minutes, and you’re already demanding things of me. Is that fair? I’ve worked too hard to let anyone take that away from me.”

My father sighed heavily.

An elderly man looking down | Source: Unsplash

An elderly man looking down | Source: Unsplash

“We didn’t mean to upset you,” he said.

“Then respect my choice,” I said gently. “Be present for my wedding, but after that, you can go your own way again.”

After the confrontation, my parents seemed to understand, if only a little.

A bride holding a card | Source: Pexels

A bride holding a card | Source: Pexels

When we left to the restaurant, everyone was subdued, except for Mark and my in-laws. I didn’t see a point in canceling the dinner because of the confrontation.

We sat down to eat, everyone lost in their own thoughts while Carol made comments about seeing me in my dress.

“Mark, you’re in for such a treat. Carina looks beautiful in that dress,” she said, digging into her salmon.

I smiled at my future mother-in-law. I always knew that she loved me, but her comments of the day had truly made me realize just how much.

A bride with wedding dresses | Source: Pexels

A bride with wedding dresses | Source: Pexels

I was lucky. I had gotten lucky with Mark, but even more so with his parents.

I watched as my mother’s face fell when Carol went on, talking about the dress fitting. But I didn’t have it in me to make her feel better.

After dinner, we left the restaurant, parting ways with my parents and sister.

“We’ll see you at the wedding,” my father said, getting into the car.

“Yes,” I said. “I’ll see you then.”

A man sitting in a car | Source: Pexels

A man sitting in a car | Source: Pexels

Let’s see what happens at my wedding.

What would you have done?

My Son Stays Quiet as His Wife Insults Me — But He Soon Teaches Her a Lesson in Front of Guests

Kate cannot wait to spend the holidays with her son and his wife — it’s her first Christmas with the family. But when Liz criticizes her cooking, and John chooses silence over defending his mother, will the holidays be ruined?

I was always the feeder — especially after I got married, it was always me cooking for every family dinner and during the major holidays, like Christmas. But after Oliver, my husband, passed, I lost hold of that part of me.

Now, I barely cook, just enough to keep myself going, and barely that.

Except during the holidays because this is when my son, John, comes for his annual roast dinner. And then, it’s time for me to shine. But this year, things got very heated in the kitchen.

This was the first year with Liz, John’s wife, joining us. When they were dating, she always went home to her parents instead of visiting us. Which, I’ll admit, is fair because being with your family is everything during the holidays. Anyway, I was intrigued to see how Liz would mix with the rest of our family for the day.

Person chopping vegetables | Source: Unsplash

Person chopping vegetables | Source: Unsplash

I got up early and began the Christmas meal, knowing that it would be an early dinner with many side dishes and different desserts to follow. I made the usual Christmas dinner that we’ve done for years — chicken, with roasted potatoes and gravy being the main attraction, but with lots of little dishes. Things that John loved.

But Liz? Oh, she definitely wasn’t a fan.

I was putting the final touches on the chicken when Liz strolled into the kitchen, cell phone in hand, eyeing my cooking. She looked around the kitchen with an expression that looked like she had smelt something terrible. I tried to ignore her because I was already sweating away.

Roast chicken on plates | Source: Pexels

Roast chicken on plates | Source: Pexels

Then, she hit me with a line that slammed through me. “Hey, Kate,” she said, “maybe we should order food. Not everyone wants what you’ve cooked. I don’t know if everyone enjoys your cooking, either. Every aspect of Christmas is supposed to be enjoyed by everyone. They should enjoy the food, too!”

I was completely blindsided by her words.

I saw John leaning against the archway, nibbling on a carrot. He altogether avoided my gaze, looking over me and out the window across the room. I held back my tears and bit my lip.

Family get together | Source: Pexels

Family get together | Source: Pexels

The guests were almost all present, sitting all over the house, and I didn’t want to put a damper on the dinner, even if Liz had hurt me. Dinner rolled around, and the table groaned beneath the weight of the food. My guests, John included, were digging in and singing praises for the food I had been cooking for most of the day.

“The food’s great, right? Everyone’s enjoying it?” John asked the table.

His uncle laughed and helped himself to another serving of roasted potatoes. “Why wouldn’t we enjoy my sister’s food?” my brother said.

“Because Liz said that the dinner might be ruined by Mom’s dishes. She wanted us to order in.”

“Nonsense!” my brother exclaimed, drowning his potatoes in gravy.

Roasted potatoes | Source: Pexels

Roasted potatoes | Source: Pexels

John looked at me and smiled. Which was when I realized that my sweet boy’s silence wasn’t meant to hurt me. No. He was trying to bide his time until he could teach Liz a lesson and embarrass her in front of our family.

Liz turned red from his comment as everyone stared at her. I’ll admit that I felt bad for her. It was her first Christmas with us, and already, it wasn’t looking promising.

Later on, when I was in the kitchen again, packing the dishwasher and emptying dishes of food, Liz came in.

“Kate, I’m sorry,” my daughter-in-law said. “I was so wrong to do what I did. I am sorry, please understand.”

“Understand what?” I asked her.

I did feel bad, yes. But I was still hurt.

Loaded dishwasher | Source: Pexels

Loaded dishwasher | Source: Pexels

“I only said that because John loves your food. He always talks about how you make all these special things for him. I can’t make a basic mac and cheese without him saying yours is better. I looked at the food, smelt all the delicious smells from this kitchen, and panicked.”

“Liz, you should know that a boy and his mother’s food is a relationship in and of itself,” I laughed, trying to diffuse the tension. “I can teach you how to cook just like me. My mother taught me everything I know.”

“Really?” she asked. “Even after I’ve been so horrible?”

“Yes,” I said with a softening smile.

Then, I led her to the Christmas tree, ready to give Liz her present.

I still think the whole thing hurts me, but I’m grateful she didn’t say what she said for a nasty reason. Liz felt threatened by John’s relationship with my food instead of fostering a relationship with Liz’s cooking.

But I can teach her.

Christmas present wrapped with red thread | Source: Pexels

Christmas present wrapped with red thread | Source: Pexels

If the same thing had happened to you, what would you have done? Would you have been silent until the truth came out, like me? Or would you have retaliated immediately?

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