“At Breakfast, My Mother-in-Law Kept Complaining She’d Never Visit Again”: We Won’t Get Any Help from Her

Moving into our new home was supposed to be a dream come true. My wife, Sarah, and I had been saving for years to afford a place of our own. We were tired of renting and dealing with landlords who never seemed to care about the state of their properties. So, when we finally got the keys to our new house, we were over the moon.

The first few weeks were a whirlwind of activity. We had to set up our utilities, get internet and cable TV installed, and furnish the place. It was exhausting but exhilarating at the same time. We were building our own nest, and every little detail felt like a step towards a brighter future.

However, there was one dark cloud hanging over our happiness: my mother-in-law, Linda. From the moment we announced we were buying a house, she had been less than supportive. She constantly questioned our decision, saying we were too young and inexperienced to handle the responsibilities of homeownership.

Despite her negativity, we invited her over for breakfast one Sunday morning to show her our new place. We hoped that once she saw how happy we were, she would come around. But from the moment she walked through the door, it was clear that wasn’t going to happen.

Linda sat at the breakfast table, picking at her food and sighing dramatically. “I don’t know why you two thought this was a good idea,” she said, shaking her head. “This house is too big for just the two of you. And what if something breaks? Do you even know how to fix anything?”

Sarah tried to reassure her. “Mom, we’ve got it under control. We’ve already set up all our accounts and utilities. We even have internet and cable TV.”

But Linda wasn’t convinced. “That’s not the point,” she snapped. “You two are in over your heads. Mark my words, you’ll be calling me for help within a month.”

Her words stung, but we tried to brush them off. After all, this was our dream, not hers. But as the weeks went by, her prophecy seemed to come true in ways we hadn’t anticipated.

First, the washing machine broke down. Then, the roof started leaking during a heavy rainstorm. Each new problem felt like a punch to the gut. We were spending money faster than we could make it, and our savings were dwindling.

We reached out to Linda for advice, hoping she might have some practical solutions. But instead of helping, she just reiterated her earlier warnings. “I told you this would happen,” she said smugly. “You should have listened to me.”

Her lack of support was disheartening, but we soldiered on. We hired repairmen and tried to learn as much as we could about home maintenance. But no matter how hard we worked, it felt like we were always one step behind.

The final straw came when our car broke down. We had no choice but to ask Linda for a loan to cover the repairs. She agreed, but not without making us feel like failures for needing her help.

“Maybe now you’ll realize you weren’t ready for this,” she said as she handed over the money.

Her words echoed in my mind as I drove home from the mechanic’s shop. I felt defeated and ashamed. Our dream of owning a home had turned into a nightmare, and it seemed like there was no end in sight.

As I pulled into our driveway, I saw Sarah sitting on the porch, her face etched with worry. I knew we had to find a way to make this work, but at that moment, it felt impossible.

We didn’t get the happy ending we had hoped for. Instead, we were left with a house full of problems and a strained relationship with Linda. But despite everything, we refused to give up on our dream. We would find a way to make it work, even if it meant doing it without any help from her.