I’ve Had Enough of Impromptu Weekend Visits: How My Brother-in-Law’s Family Took Over Our Home (and My Life) Until I Finally Stood My Ground – Was I Wrong to Set Boundaries When Uninvited Guests Showed Up With Kids, Expected Meals, and Never Asked About Our Plans?

I’ve simply had enough of you lot turning up every weekend!

Perhaps youve met the sort of person who genuinely believes the whole world spins to their tune, never sparing a thought that you might have a life, or your own plans. My brother-in-law, along with his entire family, has made it their sport to descend on our home every single weekend. Theres Arthur, his wife Wendy, their two children, and her brother Simona right little convoy, turning up with bags and children, all ready for a full weekend sleepover. Not once have they bothered to ask if its convenient for us, or if we might have other engagements.

This madcap circus has carried on for nearly a year, and frankly, my patience has vanished. Dont get me wrong, I do enjoy having guests, but only within reason. Its gone so far that I can no longer run my own errands or just collapse in peace after a grueling week at work.

Rather than unwinding, each weekend finds me chained to the cooker, making endless small talk, prepping beds, and then scaling mountains of sheets to wash once they finally trundle off. Every single time, I find myself wondering if they have even an inkling that crashing in uninvited is rather cheeky, even if you are family. Maybe I would feel less bothered if these visits were rare, but they show up at least three times a month.

Neither my husband, Thomas, nor I ever behave like this towards our relatives, and maybe, just maybe, we shouldve tried showing at their door a few times, just so they could experience the delights of surprise houseguests first-hand. I’d pleaded with Thomas to have a word, but he stammers he doesnt know howwont risk ruffling feathers. Or perhaps he simply doesnt care? With no help from him, I had to take matters into my own hands.

My first move was to stop cooking meals on weekends, which meant they had to make do with whatever leftovers were lurking in the fridge, and if supplies dried upwell, let them fend for themselves. I could go without, quite happily.

Once, the whole crowd was sat expectantly around the table, eyes skipping towards me for the expected Sunday roast. I told them, quite plainly, that there was nothing on and if they fancied a hot meal, the kitchen was theirs. They all gaped at me, silent and blank, but no one lifted a finger. Instead, everyone sipped their tea and slunk off to bed.

On top of all that, I stopped scrubbing the place spotless before every visit. One afternoon, Wendy complained her daughters white socks had turned a mysterious shade of grey. I told her plainly that I hadnt a moment to mop the floors, but if she found the state of things worrying, the mop and bucket were always waiting in the bathroom. For some reason, she never breathed a word about housework again.

But the true breakthrough came when I stopped sidelining my own life. No more ditching my plans for uninvited guests. At the end of the day, a persons got to have a bit of their own timea bit of space to see friends they actually like. So when the masses arrived, Id sit with them politely for an hour, then apologise and say that I had things to do. If my husband wanted to entertain them, he was welcome to it. If my diary was clear, Id embark on a grand clear-out, as if by design, just to avoid lingering around.

After one such visit, Arthur remarked to Thomas, Looks like our times run out, eh? How he cracked the code, Ill never know. Since then, our dear guests only drop in after ringing aheadand never, ever for sleepovers, much less as frequently. Have you ever faced such a bizarre ordeal, and did you ever find your way out?