My son has turned into a total slob, and his girlfriend mirrors him exactly. Im exhausted from living amid their chaos.
I never imagined Id say this out loud, but Ive had enoughenough of dirty dishes, a floor that hasnt seen a broom in weeks, the lingering smell of leftover meals, and the feeling of residing with careless housemates instead of in my own flat. All of this stems from my son and his sweetheart, who have been camping out here for the past two months.
Louis is twenty. Hes pursuing a distancelearning licence, just finished his military service, and landed a job right away. An adult, in theoryselfsufficient, chipping in with expenses, not idling away. I was proud of him. That was, until that infamous conversation.
Mom, he told me one day, Mathildes situation at home is terrible. Her parents are constantly fighting, shouting, and she cant even study peacefully. Can she stay with us for a while until things calm down? We wont make a fuss.
I felt sorry for her. Id seen her beforeshy, polite, eyes down, softspoken. How could I refuse? Besides, Louis has his own room, theres space. I just didnt anticipate the gift it would become.
At first they tried: dishes put away, floor swept, no noise. We even set up a cleaning scheduleSaturday their turn, Wednesday mine. I thought maybe they were finally maturing. But three weeks later everything collapsed.
Dirty plates with dried food sat in the sink for days, hair and wrappers littered the floor. The bathroom? Shampoo streaks, hair in the drain, soap residue. Their bedroom resembled a den: clothes tossed everywhere, crumbs on the desk, an unmade bed. Mathilde roamed around with a face mask and phone, as if she were at a spa, not in my home.
I attempted to talk, to ask, to remind them. Their reply was always the same: We havent had time, well do it later. Yet later never came. So I started handing them the mop and cleaning supplies directlyno accusations, just silently. That didnt help either. Once they spilled sauce on the tablecloth and left it untouched; I cleaned it all up again.
When I entered their room and saw the mess, I couldnt stay silent:
Dont you mind living like this?
Louis, unfazed, answered:
Geniuses thrive in chaos.
I see no genius in that chaosjust two adults who find it convenient to live like pigs and expect their mother to serve them.
Louis promised to pitch inshopping, bills. In reality, he only pays the utilities. He shops once a week, but sushi, pizza and other deliveries arrive almost daily. They give me those meals, but it doesnt warm my heartthe fridge stays empty. With that money we could have fed the whole family.
Mathilde doesnt work; shes studying. She receives a scholarship but never contributes a cent toward groceries or cleaning. Everything goes toward her frivolities. When I suggested they chip in a little, she shrugged, annoyed.
I raised Louis on my own. His father left before he was born. My parents helped, I worked double, saved, did everything for him. I never blamed him, and I dont want to start now. Yet watching my apartment turn into a dump is unbearable.
I tried calm conversationsonce, twice, three times The message was clear: they wont change. They think Im an old nag and that I should be grateful they tolerate sharing my roof.
Two months I held out. Thats enough. Ill tell them plainly: either you take responsibility or you move to a student residence. Maybe there theyll learn to respect others work and space.
Im tired of being their housekeeper. I want peace, no stress, no piles of dirty dishes, no socks scattered in the kitchen.
What would you do? Should I risk a fight with my son, or keep turning a blind eye to this disaster in a home I built with my own hands?
