My son has turned into a real mess, and his girlfriend is his exact replica. Im exhausted from living in their chaos.
I never imagined Id say it aloud, but Ive had enough. Enough of the dirty dishes, the floor that hasnt seen a broom in weeks, the lingering smell of leftover meals, and the feeling of staying with careless flatmates instead of living in my own place. All of this because of my son and his sweetheart, who have been crashing here like theyre on vacation for the past two months.
Louis is twenty. He is enrolled in a distancelearning bachelors program, just finished his military service, and immediately landed a job. An adult, at least on paperselfsufficient, contributing to expenses, not just idling. I was proud of him. Until that infamous conversation.
Mom, he told me one day, Mathildes situation at home is terrible. Her parents are always fighting, throwing things around, and she cant even study in peace. Could she stay here for a while until things settle down? We wont cause any trouble.
I felt sorry for her. Id seen her beforeshy, polite, eyes downcast, soft voice. How could I say no? Besides, Louis has his own room, theres space. I just didnt anticipate the gift that would follow.
At first they made an effort: dishes put away, floor swept, no noise. We even set up a cleaning scheduleSaturday was theirs, Wednesday mine. I thought maybe they had finally matured. But three weeks later everything collapsed.
Dirty plates with dried remnants lingered in the sink for days, hair and wrappers littered the floor. The bathroom? Shampoo stains, hair clogging the drain, soap residue. Their bedroom looked like a denclothes tossed everywhere, crumbs on the desk, bed never made. Mathilde roamed around with a mask on her face, phone in hand, as if she were at a spa, not in my home.
I tried to talk, to ask, to remind them. The answer was always the same: We havent had time, well do it later. Except later never arrived. So I started handing them the mop and cleaning supplies directlyno blame, just quietly. That didnt change anything. Once they spilled sauce on the tablecloth and walked away without wiping it. Again, I ended up cleaning it all myself.
When I stepped into their room and saw the total disarray, I couldnt stay silent:
Dont you mind living like this?
Louis, unfazed, replied:
Geniuses thrive in chaos.
I see no genius in that chaosjust two adults who find it convenient to behave like pigs and expect their mother to serve them.
Louis promised to pitch ingroceries, bills. In reality, he only covers the utilities. He does the shopping once a week, but sushi, pizza and other deliveries arrive almost daily. They give me the food, but it doesnt warm my heartthe fridge stays empty. With that money, we could have fed the whole family.
Mathilde doesnt work; shes a student with a scholarship, yet she never contributes a cent to groceries or cleaning. All her money goes toward frivolities. When I suggested a modest share of the expenses, she shrugged, annoyed.
I raised Louis alone. 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. But watching my apartment turn into a squalid dump is unbearable.
Ive tried calm discussionsonce, twice, three times The message is clear: they wont change. They think Im an old nag, that I should be grateful they even tolerate my presence under the same roof.
Two months I held on. Thats enough. Ill tell them plainly: either you take responsibility for yourselves, or you move to a student residence. Maybe there theyll learn what it means to respect others work and space.
Im fed up being their housekeeper. I want peace, no endless 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 the home I built with my own hands?
My Son Has Become a Tangle; My Daughter-in-Law Reflects His Chaos. I’m Exhausted Living in Their Turmoil.
