My Mother-in-Law Offered to Help Look After Our Children This Summer Since She’s Retired, But Now My Brother-in-Law Drops Off His Three Kids Without Food or Money—How Can I Address This Without Causing a Family Row?

Author Walton MerrittReading 3 minViews 2

My mother-in-law offered to help us with the kids during the summer. Shes recently retired and has a fair bit of spare time now, so we agreed.

Both of us are working, and with three children, taking a proper holiday seems impossible. Usually, we just take days off in turns when one of the kids is unwell or has something special on at school. Now and then, if nothing urgent is happening at home, we manage a weekend getaway, but thats about the limit.

For the past three years, weve had a twenty-year mortgage. Frankly, we got tired of constantly moving about to different rented houses, and decided it would be best to buy our own home, even if the monthly repayments are higher. Even though we work all summer, we simply cant afford a holiday, given how much of our wages go towards the mortgage every month. Plus, with school out for the summer, theres no one else to watch the children while were at work. At least this way we know during the hot months theyre safe and comfortable at home.

My mother-in-law stepped in and suggested she could watch over the children those weeks. Now that shes got the time, of course we accepted. Every summer, when we take the kids round to my wifes mum, we make sure to bring groceries and give her some cash for treats. She never spends her own money on the grandchildren, always reminding us her pension isnt very much. We usually hand her money in person, and all in all, its still much cheaper than hiring a childminder. Everyone seems content with the arrangement.

Then my wifes brother decided hed bring his three children round to their grandmother too. Theyre younger than ours and much more of a handful, needing constant attention. He didnt bother sending any food along or giving their nan a penny for their keepreally, we ended up feeding them ourselves.

Its only natural to feel annoyed by that. Ive asked my wife several times to have a quiet word with her brother, but shes reluctant and doesnt want to start an argument. Why should I be the one working hard just so someone else can dodge the effort of looking after his own children? I just wonder if theres a way to talk to him about it without a row.

Looking back, I realise sometimes you have to speak up for whats fair, even when its awkward. I suppose the lesson is, dont bottle it uphandle things while staying civil, and youll save yourself a world of frustration.

A Miracle Didn’t Happen Tanya left the maternity hospital with her newborn son. There was no miracle—her parents didn’t come to meet her. The spring sun shone down as she wrapped herself in her loose jacket, gathered her meagre belongings and documents, cradled her baby, and stepped outside. She had no idea where to go. Her parents had refused to let the baby come home; her mother demanded she sign him away. But Tanya, herself a child from the care system, had promised never to abandon her own child, no matter what. She’d grown up with foster parents who treated her kindly and sheltered her from hardship, but life hadn’t been easy. She blamed herself for her son having no father. He’d seemed serious, promised to introduce her to his family, but when Tanya told him she was pregnant, he said he wasn’t ready and vanished out of her life. Now, no one was prepared to help—not the baby’s father, not her parents. Only Tanya was willing to take responsibility. Tanya sat on a bench, feeling the warmth of the sun and the weight of her future. She’d heard about centres that support mothers in her situation, but hadn’t dared ask for directions, clinging to hope her family would show up. They never did. With resignation and hope, she decided to travel to a village where an elderly lady—her grandmother—might take her in. She’d help with the garden and find work when her benefits ran out, trusting that luck would smile on her eventually. She adjusted her sleeping son, opened her battered phone to find the nearest bus, and nearly walked into the path of a car. The driver, a tall, gray-haired man, leapt out and scolded her for not looking where she was crossing—saying she’d get them both killed, and that he’d end up in jail for it. Frightened, Tanya wept, which made her baby join in. On learning she had nowhere to go, the man said: “Get in the cab with your boy. We’ll sort this out and see what can be done. I’m Konstantin Gregory. And you?” She replied, “Tanya,” and followed him. At his spacious flat, he gave her and the baby a room and fetched supplies. His neighbour, a doctor, helped list what she’d need, and when he returned, he found Tanya asleep, the baby wakeful. While caring for the child, Tanya woke and panicked at her son’s absence, until Konstantin returned the baby reassuringly and showed Tanya his purchases. He explained his history—a widower whose son was lost in a tragic accident years ago, whose fiancée vanished before he’d had a chance to help. He invited Tanya to stay, insisting she and her baby belonged. Moved by his kindness, Tanya explained she’d been adopted, her own mother abandoning her at an orphanage gate—leaving only a necklace. When Konstantin noticed the familiar pendant and revealed it was one he had made for his late son, both were stunned: the pendant held a lock of his son’s hair. It dawned on them—Tanya was his granddaughter. Her suggestion of a DNA test was waved aside. “No need,” he said, “You’re family—my granddaughter, and that’s my great-grandson.” The past had kept them apart; fate had brought them together—a family at last. By Sofia Coralova

My Husband Only Ever Thinks of Himself: He Eats Everything in the House and Doesn’t Leave a Single Thing for Our Child – “Adam, where have all the bananas gone?” I ask my husband. – “I ate them, I fancied some.” – “Couldn’t you have left even one for our son’s tea?” – “You’re making a big fuss. You know they sell bananas in shops.” – “So go and buy some.” – “I’ve got a football match—how can I go?” It’s always the same in our house: yogurts, biscuits, apples—nothing’s safe. I have to hide food or my son might go hungry with a dad like this. We’ve been married five years. Our son’s nearly two. We’ve got a mortgage, so money’s tight. My husband thinks he’s the breadwinner since he gave us a home (he only sold his one-bedroom flat for the deposit—my parents helped too). My mum says Adam’s a total egotist, and honestly, I sort of agree with her. One day we were prepping for a birthday party. I was cooking for the guests, and he kept sneaking in for “tastes”—even got into the birthday cake I’d left on the balcony. There I was, ready to slice it up, and all that was left was a chunk of decorated chocolate sponge! You can imagine how embarrassed I was. It’s a constant issue. Sure, he earns, but some basic consideration wouldn’t hurt. His excuse? “Don’t worry, we’ll buy more!” Fine, don’t care about me—but how do you not care about your own child? It’s not like we’re rolling in money; we rely on that food. In a week, he’ll eat a month’s worth. “Why are you having a go at him?” says my mother-in-law. “He’s a working man—let him eat. If you’re that bothered, just cook more.” She’s always on his side. But it doesn’t matter how much I cook—he’ll eat it all. Buying extra food isn’t an option with our bills, mortgage, and everything else. Eventually I told my husband that if he did it again, I’d want a divorce. We’d split the flat and live our own lives. He sulked, ran to his mum—and now my mother-in-law won’t even speak to me. But I’m sure I’m right. What do you think?

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