З життя
Мама хочет гостить у нас, но свекровь против чужих в доме
Мама хочет навестить нас, пока свекрови нет, но та не разрешает пускать посторонних в свой дом.
Мне 25 лет, зовут меня Анастасия, и я оказалась в ситуации, которая разрывает мне душу. Мы с мужем, Дмитрием, живём в квартире его матери, Нины Сергеевны, в тихом городке под Казанью. Это не временное решение — мы здесь надолго, минимум до окончания моего декрета. Три месяца назад я родила дочку, Лизу, и теперь вся наша жизнь крутится вокруг неё. Но вместо семейного уюта чувствую себя пленницей в чужом доме, где свекровь устанавливает правила, а моя мама даже не может приехать в гости.
Квартира Нины Сергеевны просторная, трёхкомнатная, с удобной планировкой, балконом и большой кухней. Здесь вполне могут жить четыре человека. У Дмитрия есть доля в этой жилплощади, но мы занимаем лишь одну комнату, чтобы никому не мешать. Я кормлю Лизу грудью, мы спим вместе, и пока все вроде бы довольны. Но на самом деле жизнь здесь превратилась в бесконечное испытание. Свекровь не любит убираться, и вся забота о порядке легла на меня. Ещё до родов я отдраивала квартиру от многолетнего слоя пыли, а теперь поддерживаю чистоту, потому что с малышкой иначе нельзя. Ежедневно мою полы, стираю, глажу, а ещё готовлю — Нина Сергеевна на кухню даже не заглядывает. Хорошо, что Лиза спокойная — спит или лежит в кроватке, пока я бегаю по дому.
А свекровь? Она ничего не делает. Раньше хотя бы мыла за собой тарелки, но теперь и это перестала. Грязную посуду оставляет на столе и уходит. Я молчу, чтобы не ссориться, но внутри всё кипит. Неужели сложно помыть чашку после чая? Казалось бы, мелочь, но она сводит меня с ума. Я убираю, готовлю, стираю, а она смотрит сериалы или обсуждает соседей по телефону. Я стараюсь не конфликтовать, глотаю обиды, но с каждым днём чувствую, как силы уходят.
Недавно свекровь объявила, что осенью поедет в гости к родне в Самарскую область. Её племянница выходит замуж, и она хочет повидать сестёр. Я обрадовалась — наконец-то мы с Димой и Лизой побудем одни, как настоящая семья! В тот же день позвонила моя мама, Светлана Игоревна. Она живёт далеко, в Уфе, и ещё не видела внучку. Сказала, что соскучилась и хочет приехать. Я была на вершине счастья — мама сможет подержать Лизу на руках, а я хоть ненадолго почувствую её поддержку. Двойная радость, и я с нетерпением ждала вечера, чтобы поделиться новостью.
Но счастье разлетелось в клочья. Когда я рассказала о приезде мамы, Нина Сергеевна резко помрачнела. «Я не позволю пускать в мой дом чужих, пока меня нет!» — заявила она. Чужих? Она назвала так мою маму, бабушку моей дочери! Я остолбенела. Как можно так говорить о родном человеке? Да, они с Ниной Сергеевной не близки, но виделись на нашей свадьбе. Тогда мы снимали квартиру, и мама останавливалась у нас, потому что у свекрови гостили какие-то дальние родственники. Прошло уже три года, но разве это делает мою маму чужой?
Свекровь заняла оборонительную позицию. Она обвинила меня в сговоре, будто мы специально ждём её отъезда, чтобы «распоряжаться» в её квартире. Билеты она уже купила, но теперь уверена — м— что приезд мамы — не случайность, а мой хитрый план.
A Sold Friend: Grandad’s Tale And He Understood Me! It Was No Fun – I Realized What a Foolish Idea It Was. I Sold Him. He Thought It Was a Game, Until He Realized I’d Truly Sold Him. Times, After All, Are Different for Everyone. For Some, All-Inclusive Isn’t All That Generous, While Others Just Dream of Fresh Bread and Sausage. That’s how we lived – each in our own way, with all sorts of ups and downs. I was little back then. My uncle – Uncle George – gave me a shepherd puppy, and I was over the moon. The pup bonded with me, understood me at a glance, looked into my eyes and waited, waited for my signal. “Lie down,” I would say after a pause, and he would lie, gazing up at me loyally as though ready to die for me. “Serve,” I commanded, and the puppy would clamber up on chubby legs and freeze, swallowing anxiously, waiting for a reward – a tasty treat. But I had nothing to spoil him with. We were barely managing ourselves. Times were tough. My uncle, Uncle George, my mum’s brother who had given me the puppy, once said to me: “Don’t be upset, lad. Look how loyal he is! Sell him, then call for him, and he’ll run back to you. No one will see. You’ll have some money for a treat for you and your mum, and for him too. Trust me, I’m telling you something useful.” The idea sounded good to me. I didn’t realize then how wrong it was – an adult suggested it, and besides, it’d just be a joke, and I could get a treat. I whispered into Loyal’s warm, furry ear that I’d give him away, then call him back, so he should come to me and escape from strangers. And he understood me! He barked, as if to agree. The next day, I put on his lead and walked him to the station. Everyone sold things there – flowers, cucumbers, apples. The crowd poured off the train, and people began buying, haggling. I stepped forward a little, pulling my dog closer. But no one approached. Almost everyone had gone when a man with a stern face came over. “You there, lad, waiting for someone, or maybe you want to sell your dog? Good, strong pup – I’ll take him,” and he pressed some money into my palm. I handed him the lead. Loyal looked around and sneezed happily. “Go on, Loyal, go with him, my friend,” I whispered, “I’ll call you, come to me.” And he went off with the man. Hiding, I watched where they went. That evening, I brought home bread, sausage, and sweets. Mum asked sternly: “Did you steal this from someone?” “No, Mum, I helped carry some things at the station, and they paid me.” “Well done, son. Now eat and let’s go to bed – I’m exhausted.” She didn’t even ask about Loyal; she didn’t care. Uncle George came by in the morning. I was getting ready for school, but all I wanted was to go call for Loyal. “So,” he chuckled, “sold your friend?” and ruffled my hair. I pulled away, refusing to answer. I hadn’t slept all night, and couldn’t eat my bread and sausage for the lump in my throat. It wasn’t fun – I realized what a stupid idea it had been. No wonder Mum never liked Uncle George. “He’s daft, don’t listen to him,” she’d always say. I grabbed my schoolbag and dashed from the house. It was three blocks to that man’s house, and I ran the whole way. Loyal sat behind a tall fence, tied up with a thick rope. I called him, but he looked at me sadly, head on his paws, tail wagging, trying to bark though his voice broke. I’d sold him. He thought it was a game, but then realized I had truly sold him. The owner came out, scolded Loyal, and he tucked in his tail. I knew then it was hopeless. That evening I worked at the station carrying bags. They paid little, but it was enough. Scared, I went to the gate and knocked. The man opened the door. “Oh, it’s you again. What do you want?” “Sir, I changed my mind,” I stammered, handing him the money he’d given me for Loyal. He squinted at me, took the money, and untied Loyal. “Here, lad. Take him. He’s been pining, not cut out for a guard dog – but mind, he may never forgive you.” Loyal looked at me mournfully. Our game had become a trial for us both. Then he walked over, licked my hand and pressed his nose into my stomach. Years have passed since then, but I know now: you never sell a friend, not even as a joke. And Mum was so glad: “I was exhausted yesterday, then remembered – where’s our dog? I’m used to that boy, he’s part of the family, our Loyal!” After that, Uncle George hardly ever visited. We didn’t find his jokes funny anymore.
A Sold Friend. Grandads Tale And he understood me! It wasnt fun, I realised it was a foolish plan. I...
“While We Sell the Flat, Go Stay in the Care Home,” Said Her Daughter: How a Late Marriage, a Selfish Husband, and a Dreadful Choice Doomed One Mother’s Final Years
While were selling the house, why not stay at the care home for a bit? my daughter suggested Margaret married...
I Took a DNA Test and Lived to Regret It: How Doubt Cost Me My Marriage, My Family, and My Future with My Children
I did a DNA test and I regretted it I ended up marrying my girlfriend when I found out she...
Putting Dad in a Care Home: Elizabeth’s Struggle Between Guilt and Self-Preservation in the Face of a Lifetime of Cruelty
What nonsense is this? A care home? Over my dead body! Im not leaving my house! Elizabeths father hurled his...
After My Parents’ Divorce, They Cast Me Out: How I Was Forced to Leave Home, Lost My Family, and Began a New Life—Until a Twist of Fate Brought Us All Back Together
I pleaded, yet my mother stood firm. She hurriedly tossed my belongings into a rucksack, handed me a bit of...
Don’t Go, Mum: A Family Story of Love, Judgement, and Redemption
Dont Go, Mum. A Family Story As the old saying goes: you cant judge a book by its cover. But...
She Was Never Truly Alone: A Simple Tale of Grandma Violet, Her Loyal Dog George, and Felix the Cat with a Financial Past
She Wasnt Alone. A Simple Tale It was a late winter morning, and the sky over London barely began to...
After Turning Seventy, She Was Forgotten—Not Even Her Son or Daughter Remembered Her Birthday, But When Her Son Betrayed Her and Sold Her Home, an Unexpected Reunion with Her Estranged Daughter Changed Everything
After turning seventy, she found herself unwanted by anyone not even her own son or daughter remembered her birthday. Margaret...