**Diary Entry**
Im leaving reluctantly with my son to visit my mother. My heart tightens at the thought of going, yet I pack our things and set off with Theo to stay at Mums. All because yesterday, while I was out walking Theo, my husband, James, decided to be “hospitable” by letting his cousin Emma, her husband Gregory, and their two children, Lucy and Oliver, stay in *our* bedroom. Without even asking me! He simply announced, “You and Theo can stay with your mumtheres space.” Im still reeling from the sheer audacity. This is *our* home, *our* bedroom, and now *Im* the one packing to make way for strangers? No, this is too much.
It all started when I got back from walking Theo. Exhausted, he was whining, and I was looking forward to putting him down before enjoying a quiet cuppa. But stepping into the flat, chaos greeted me. Emma and Gregory had already taken over our room. Their kids were racing about, scattering toys everywhere, while my thingsbooks, toiletries, even my laptopwere piled in a corner like I no longer existed. I stood frozen, stunned: “What on earth is this?” James, completely unbothered, replied, “Emmas family needed a place to stay. I thought you could go to your mums. Youll be comfortable there.”
I nearly choked on my anger. First, this is *our* home! We bought it together, picked every piece of furniture with care. Now Im expected to vanish because his family fancies a trip to London? And why didnt he *ask* me? I mightve agreedafter a proper discussion. But this was an order. Emma, for her part, didnt even apologise. Just flashed a smile: “Come on, Charlotte, dont fretwell only be here two little weeks!” Two weeks? I dont want them touching my things for a single *day*.
Gregory, meanwhile, is as silent as a fish. Slouched on our sofa, sipping coffee from my favourite mug, nodding along to Emmas chatter. The kids? A nightmare. Lucy, six, spilled juice on our rug, while Oliver, four, turned my wardrobe into a den. I tried reminding them this wasnt a hotel, but Emma just shrugged: “Oh, theyre just children, what can you do?” Right. And Im left cleaning up after them.
I pulled James aside. Told him how disrespected I felt, that Theo needed stability. Dragging him to Mums, where hell sleep on a camp bed, isnt a solution. James sighed: “Charlotte, dont make a fuss. Theyre familywe have to help.” Family? What about *us*? I nearly broke down. Instead, I clenched my jaw and packed our bags. If he thinks Ill just roll over, hes wrong.
Mum, Margaret, was livid when I told her: “James thinks he rules the roost, does he? Come here, lovetheres plenty of space for you and Theo. As for your husband, hell have some explaining to do!” Shes ready to storm in and toss them out. But I wont have a scene. I just need peace to think.
As I packed Theos toys, he looked up with big eyes: “Mummy, how long are we staying at Grannys?” I hugged him tight: “Not long, sweetheart. Just until Daddy understands.” But deep down, I knowI wont go back until our home is truly ours again. And James will have to choose: his “generosity” or his family.
