I even contributed money so that my son and his wife could buy an apartment – a tenth of the price. I allowed them to live with me so that it would be easier for them to cope with the mortgage. They rented the house, handed over the keys. The move? No! She said: “I want everything in the new apartment to be new!” They promised to save, promised to move soon, but two years have passed and they still can’t pack things. Everything is new! Absolutely everything. And what is not needed: the bed that I bought for them is now unusable. The wardrobe – old, they don’t even want it as a gift. “My husband buys me everything new! Even a bed with an orthopedic mattress!” And he buys. He buys again and again. They bought the appliances with the help of the family. Of course, as for the refrigerator, washing machine, TV, microwave, dishwasher – all the most expensive. It was not enough. They took out a loan. And a mortgage on top of that. The appliances are in their boxes and the apartment is empty. Two years already. And the loan has to be paid off. There is no question of saving. At three in the morning they ring the intercom – they are bringing food. They are flying on vacation.
She does manicures, dyes her hair. And chip in for food? No! “We’re moving out soon, we won’t eat too much!” They did the renovation. She didn’t like the developer’s standards. My son hasn’t been in touch with me for almost a year: from work to the apartment, he painted, put up wallpaper, did installations. From the apartment to work to pay for all this. She says it’s my fault because I didn’t teach him to earn money. He has a gold medal, a red diploma, a good job and at 30 years old he earns three times the average income in the region. Didn’t I teach him? But for her – whatever I give, it’s always too little. I remember how she was happy with the bed I bought for her and how she painted her nails in the kitchen. The higher the income, the greater the appetite. It used to be different: she helped, peeled potatoes, wiped the floor.
And as soon as they got the keys – everything, “we will only be here temporarily, we will clean our own stuff!” My son was forbidden to help me with the utility bills. He should save! But secretly he gives me money, apologizes, looks away and asks me to wait. I doubt that they will be able to pay both for the rented apartment and for their own. They don’t want to change their lifestyle. Live without furniture or buy something cheap – she makes a face. They didn’t buy anything. Everything on credit and mortgage. There was no longer enough for the new mattress. I’m holding out. Already six years in my house. With the last of my strength. I told them: “I’ll wait a little longer and you’ll move out!” The apartment has been empty for two years. I’ve helped where I could. But I can’t do it anymore. She started crying and screaming.
She says that I’m throwing my son out on the street, that I’ve lost my conscience. But how could she have a conscience when she’s been exploited to the last drop? She calls everyone, crying. You probably won’t believe me. You’ll say that I’m evil. That it’s my fault that I let them in, that I allowed it. Maybe you’ll say that I’m a bad mother. But I can’t do it anymore, and everything has its limits. I’ve already forgotten the last time I bought something for myself. I’m counting the days until things finally calm down. I’ve reached out my hand and they’ve eaten everything and they’re still asking…
