I told myself it was temporary, that family helps family. I had no idea how quickly one week could stretch into many.As days passed, they settled in without urgency to move on. My son stopped mentioning new housing plans, and his wife treated my home as though it were hers alone.
She didn’t work, rarely helped around the house, and spent her days socializing or watching television. I came home every evening to untidy rooms, unpaid contributions, and noise that made rest impossible. I tried gentle suggestions, hoping encouragement would help, but my words were met with dismissive replies.
I stayed quiet, reminding myself that he was my child and patience was part of motherhood. Still, resentment quietly grew in the corners of my mind.The final moment came one Friday night. I returned home weary, only to find them laughing loudly in front of the television, oblivious to my need for rest before another early morning.
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