**Diary Entry**
My wife and I have been married nearly eight years now. Andrews a good mankind, generous, always ready to help. But he had one flaw: his sister, Margaret. A woman with boundless imagination and a knack for turning every innocent remark into a veiled request for an expensive gift.
She never asked outright. Her words always sounded like wistful musings: *The children are dying to see that new animated film, but tickets are so pricey these days.* And just like that, Andrew would book the cinema, take the kids, and treat them to popcorn and sweets.
*Lovely weather today,* shed sigh. *Shame to stay indoors. The fairs in town!* And guess who ended up taking her kids? Us, of course. All on our dime.
I dont do subtlety. Never have. If you need something, just ask. But Andrew always jumped at her hints. He adored his nieces and nephews, but the way he spoiled them knew no limits. Bikes, gadgets, outingsit became the norm. One look from Margaret, and hed cave.
Recently, it was little Olivers birthdayMargarets son. Wed already splurged on a top-notch bike, costing us a pretty penny. I thought that was more than enough. But to Margaret, a bike was pocket change. In her eyes, Oliver simply *had* to visit Europe. And not alonewith her, naturally.
Her phrasing? *Oliver dreams of seeing Paris. His eyes light up whenever he hears about it.*
This time, though, Andrew brought him a cake and a monogrammed cushion instead of tickets. I was at work that day, so he went alone. Needless to say, his sister was livid.
But Margaret didnt give up. Her demands grew each year. Andrew never batted an eyewe had no children of our own, so he poured everything into his nieces and nephews. Maybe it was his way of filling that void.
Then came the news wed waited for: I was pregnant. Andrew wept with joy, kissed my belly, couldnt believe it. Hed dreamed of this for years. But then Margaret struck againthis time, a spring holiday to Prague. With the kids, naturally.
For once, Andrew refused. Said all our resources were going to our growing family. His sister exploded.
The next day, she called me, screaming. *How dare you? You planned this just to steal the only man who cared for my children!* I hung up without a word.
Then came the guilt trip. The kids waited outside Andrews office with handmade cards: *Uncle, please dont leave us* *Why do you need your own baby when you already have us?* Someone had coached themand we both knew who.
Andrew came home, stared at those cards, and *something* in him broke.
*Ive been a fool,* he muttered. *How many years did I fall for it? The boilers broken, no money for coats, Dad lefthelp us, Uncle. Shes always used them to manipulate me. And I let her. Like an idiot.*
Then he pulled out a notebook. Listed everything: bikes, phones, holidays, school trips, winter coats, theatre tickets. The total? A staggering sum.
The finale was pure Margaret. She stormed into our house, stood in the hallway like she owned the place, and said, *Since youre having your own child, how about one last kindness? Give us the car. Not for meIm not greedy. Just for the kids.*
Andrew handed her the notebook without a word. *Thats what you owe. Pay it back. Youve got six months. After thatcourt.*
She slammed the door so hard the coat rack toppled.
Then came the backlash. Her friends bombarded me online, saying Id ruined the sacred bond between uncle and nieces. That the kids were *abandoned, starving, their mother in despair.*
But I didnt budge.
Margaret owns two flatsone from her ex-husband, the other because Andrew waived his inheritance in her favour. She gets child support; shes not poor. She just grew used to handouts. Now, thats over.
Were having a baby. Andrew finally has a real familyno manipulation, no drama. And you know what? I think our storys only just begun.
**Lesson learned:** Blood doesnt entitle anyone to your wallet. Sometimes, the kindest thing you can do is say *no.*
