My son has turned into a total slob, and his girlfriend mirrors him exactly. Im exhausted from living in their mess.
I never imagined Id say this out loud, 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 residing with careless housemates instead of in my own apartment. All of this because of my son and his sweetheart, who have been crashing here for the past two months.
Louis is twenty, pursuing a distancelearning bachelor’s degree, just finished his military service, and immediately landed a job. An adult, in theoryselfsufficient, contributing to the bills, not just idling. I was proud of him. That was until that infamous conversation.
Maman, he told me one day, Mathildes situation at home is terrible. Her parents are constantly fighting, throwing things around, and she cant even study in peace. Can she stay here for a while until things calm down? We wont make a fuss.
I felt sympathy. Id seen her beforeshy, polite, eyes down, soft voice. How could I refuse? Especially since Louis has his own room and theres space. I just didnt anticipate the gift it would become.
At first they made an effort: dishes put away, floor swept, no noise. We even set up a cleaning scheduleSaturday their turn, Wednesday mine. I thought perhaps they had truly matured. But three weeks later everything collapsed.
Dirty plates with dried crumbs lingered in the sink for days, hair and wrappers littered the floor. The bathroom? Shampoo streaks, hair clogging the drain, soap residue. Their bedroom resembled a den: clothes scattered, 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 talking, asking, reminding. Always the same answer: We havent had time, well do it later. Yet later never arrived. So I started handing them the mop and cleaning supplies directlyno blame, just silence. That didnt change anything. Once they spilled sauce on the tablecloth and walked away without wiping it. Again, I ended up cleaning it all.
When I entered their room and saw the chaos, I couldnt stay silent:
Does it bother you to live like this?
Louis, without a blink, replied:
Geniuses thrive in chaos.
I see no genius in that mess, only two adults who find it convenient to live like pigs and expect their mother to serve them.
Louis promised to pitch ingroceries, bills. In reality, he only pays the utilities. He does the shopping once a week, but sushi, pizza, and other deliveries arrive almost daily. They offer me 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 toward groceries or cleaning. Everything goes toward her 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 own 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 squalor I cant endure any longer.
I tried calm discussionsonce, twice, three times The outcome is clear: they wont change. They think Im a nagging old woman who should be grateful they even tolerate sharing the roof.
Two months I held on. Thats enough. Ill tell them plainly: either you sort yourselves out, or you move into student housing. Maybe there theyll learn to respect other peoples work and space.
Im done being their cleaning lady. I want peace, no stress, no piledup dirty dishes, no socks scattered across the kitchen.
What would you do? Should I risk a fight with my son, or keep turning a blind eye to this disaster in an apartment I built with my own hands?
My Son Has Become a Mess; My Daughter-in-Law Reflects His Chaos. I’m Exhausted Living in Their Turmoil.
