**”Not a Penny Until She Leaves That Deadbeat”**
Every day, our home shakes with argumentsnot between my husband and me, but because of my son-in-law. That man my daughter married is endlessly lazy and utterly irresponsible. He hasnt held a steady job in over a year, scraping by with odd jobs, then wasting the rest of his time doing nothing. My daughter carries the entire burdenraising twin toddlers while on maternity leave. And him? He just exists.
Of course, she cant work full-timethe twins need constant care. I offered help, but on one condition. A firm, non-negotiable one: not another penny until she divorces that parasite. Because helping her only enables *him*. And I refuse to bankroll someone elses laziness.
From the start, I never liked Oliver. I hoped shed wake up, see sense. But noshe married him. Youth, love, foolish dreamsit all clouded her judgment. Now, were left dealing with the mess.
We gave them Grandmas flat. It was our only extra income in retirement, but they couldnt afford rent, so we handed it over. All I asked was a light refurbishmentjust enough to make it safe for the children.
Then Oliver showed his true colours:
*”Im not doing that. Im not a handymanIm an intellectual. Hire professionals.”*
With what money? He hasnt earned enough to buy a screwdriver. All he does is philosophize and whine about bad luck. Evening work? *”Out of the question.”* Weekends? *”Thats rest time.”* He expects everything handed to him.
When I called him lazy to his face, he sulked. *”Youre unfair.”* And my daughter? Instead of backing me up, she snapped:
*”Youve made us argue again. Why cant you stay out of it?”*
I stepped backbut made it clear: if she chose this life, shed face it alone. No more handouts. Then I learned she was pregnant with twins, and my heart broke. I thought Oliver might step up. But nonothing. It all fell on us. We finished the flat, bought cots, even took her to doctors appointments. Him? Slouched on the sofa, glued to his laptop.
Emily tried her best, but I could see it dawning on herwho shed really married. Together, we patched the place up, doing everything ourselves. Later, he bought a few trinkets on saleas if that excused anything. When you have a family, you act like a man. Him? Just a lodger in a home built by others.
Then we discovered how they were surviving: a secret credit card. Theyd hidden it. Then came the call:
*”Mum, we cant manage. Please help”*
I was livid.
*”Emily! You had children with a man who cant change a lightbulb! How did you think this would work?”*
*”Its just a rough patch”*
*”What rough patch? Youve got a home, parents doing everything. And him? No jobs good enoughtoo little pay, too far, wrong hours!”*
*”Mum, you dont understand Hes looking! He wont work for peanuts!”*
*”Peanuts are how people survive! You, your childrenand himliving off us!”*
Ive had enough. No more being their cash cow. I told her:
*”Until you leave him, dont knock on our door. Not a pound. If you stay, you cope alone.”*
She burst into tears.
*”You want my children growing up without a father?”*
And I said what Id held back too long:
*”Better no father than one like that. A man who leeches off others.”*
Im a mother. But I wont be a victim. I want my daughter raising children with a partnernot dead weight. I want her to respect herself. Not beg for help while he sips his tea in comfort.
She hung up in silence. But one day, shell understand.
