I was brought up by my gran, but now my parents have decided I ought to start paying them maintenance.
My family and I live in completely different cities. In fact, we havent clapped eyes on each other for well over twenty years. My parents are both artistsspent their whole lives prancing about in choirs, flitting from one town to another. When I was five, I went to live with my grandmother. She, apparently, fancied a bit more company but to make the whole thing manageable, she promptly relocated to her sisters in Birmingham.
At first, Mum and Dad would visit two, sometimes even three times a yearvery thrilling! Then, like a budget airline, their visits got progressively less frequent. Eventually, they vanished entirely. After a while, I stopped wondering what they were up to. When I was at university studying dentistry, I got hitched in my third year.
Fast forward a bit, my husband and I now run our own dental practice, and honestly, were doing rather nicely for ourselves. About a year ago, out of the blue, my mum and dad reappeared. They didnt even have my numberthey had to start calling the clinic! Every conversation was a symphony of moaning about how rough they had it.
Patiently, Id listen and gently remind them that, well, theyd made their choices the day they handed me to Gran. Occasionally, my parents sent Gran a few quid, but mostly, she and I survived on her pension. She often reminded me of this pivotal fact, and truthfully, I understood. We pinched pennies so hard they squealed.
I did well in school, worked nights as an orderly at the hospital so I could actually afford a sandwich and haul myself into something other than hand-me-downs from the 90s. Now, I feel like Ive carved out my own life, and my folks have theirstheyre welcome to carry on however they see fit.
But when Mum and Dad realised I wasnt itching to splash out on them, they started threatening to take me to court for maintenance. Real heartwarming, that. Those words finally had me slamming the emotional door. If I ever hesitated about helping them, those doubts have packed up and left the building. Right now, I truly dont want anything to do with them.
So, what do you reckon? Absolutely justified, or am I being a bit heartless not bailing out my long-lost parents?
