Cooking for the family while my daughter’s friends eat everything!
My daughter, Poppy, is the life and soul of any gathering. Her warmth and friendliness draw pals in like bees to honey. Here in Manchester, our house is always full of her mates—kids of all ages, not just classmates. I’m glad she’s so sociable, but lately, things have spiralled out of control, and I’m at my wit’s end.
It all started when Poppy began inviting friends over. It’s winter, freezing outside, so I didn’t mind them playing indoors. At first, she’d serve them tea and biscuits, play music, and make up games. I even thought it was sweet, how welcoming she was. But now she’s dragging in complete strangers, kids I’ve never laid eyes on before. And their behaviour? Absolutely appalling.
Just the other day, I came home from work to find two unfamiliar teenagers in my kitchen, tucking into a massive pot of beef stew—meant to last us two days! They’d polished off every last bit, dumped their dirty dishes in the sink, and vanished without so much as a “cheers.” I was livid. Dinner was ruined, and I was too knackered to start cooking again.
I tried explaining to Poppy that inviting random kids over and feeding them our family meals wasn’t on. Biscuits? Fine. Sweets? Go wild. But the food in the fridge? That’s for us. Poppy went off like a firework, called me tight-fisted, and stormed upstairs, slamming her bedroom door so hard I thought the windows might crack. She locked herself in and refused to speak to me. I felt awful, but what else could I do?
I boiled some potatoes, fried up some sausages, and called everyone down. Poppy made a big show of refusing to eat, acting like I was the villain. The next morning, before work, I warned her: “There’s enough food for two days—I’m working late, so don’t expect anything fresh.” Yet when I got home past eleven, there was my husband, Simon, frying eggs in an empty kitchen. Poppy’s friends had raided the fridge again. And once more, she barricaded herself in her room, refusing to explain.
I’m at my limit. How do I get through to her? She won’t listen, just hurls ridiculous accusations: “You’re stingy! You hate my friends!” Is this just teenage rebellion? Or did Simon and I mess up somewhere? I don’t know how to handle this. My heart’s torn—I want Poppy happy, but I can’t let this chaos continue.
I’m no Scrooge, but our budget’s stretched to breaking. Simon and I work ourselves ragged just to keep food on the table. I cook proper meals for my family, only to end up feeding half the neighbourhood’s kids. My mum tuts and says, “Time to take the slipper to her!” But I won’t have that. I want to sort this peacefully—but how? Poppy won’t engage, and I feel like I’m losing my own daughter.
What would you suggest? How do I make Poppy see she’s hurting the family, without crushing her? How do I set boundaries before our home becomes a free-for-all buffet? Anyone else been through this? Share your wisdom—I’m desperate.
