When my mother-in-law moved in during her home renovation, I thought the constant criticism of my cooking was bad enough. But when my meals started vanishing while my husband and I were at work, and she denied being the culprit, I knew I had to find a way to expose her.
A few months ago, my mother-in-law, Gwendolyn, decided to renovate her house, starting with her kitchen. She ripped out perfectly good cabinets and tore up the old linoleum floor without thinking twice.
Construction worker demolishing a kitchen for renovation | Source: Midjourney
The issue is that she didn’t bother to budget for any of this chaos. The renovation turned into a money pit quickly. Even worse, the contractor kept finding new problems, adding expenses left and right. Additionally, some of their work required her to be away, as it was dangerous for her health.
Unfortunately, her bank account was drying up faster than a puddle in the desert.
My husband, Sammy, and I sat at our kitchen table, staring at his phone as she explained this little situation. First, she detailed all the new things she was adding to the renovation, like a better sink, and then she revealed what she wanted from us.
Construction worker pointing at something during a renovation | Source: Midjourney
“I just can’t possibly afford a hotel while the work gets done,” Gwendolyn said, using just the perfect amount of desperation in her voice to convince Sammy. “And you know how sensitive my sinuses are. I simply can’t stay in one of those budget motels.”
Just as I expected, my husband gave me that pleading puppy-dog look he always got when his mother needed something. With a deep breath, I nodded. “Of course, Gwendolyn, you can stay with us,” I said, already regretting the words as they left my mouth.
Man in his 30s with a pleading look sitting at a kitchen table where there’s a phone | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, wonderful!” she exclaimed. “I knew I could count on my darling boy. And you too, of course, Paulina.”
After she hung up, I told Sammy I wanted to set some ground rules in writing. I wanted to protect us. Luckily, he agreed. I printed out some boundaries and stipulations for her stay and asked her to sign them.
Gwendolyn wasn’t too pleased about signing anything, but she didn’t have another option. Besides, we figured her stay would be a few weeks, tops. But, oh boy, were we wrong.
Woman holds pen while reading a paper that says “Rules” | Source: Midjourney
The weeks stretched into months, with no end to the renovation in sight. Each update from the contractor brought new delays and complications.
But that wouldn’t be a problem if Gwendolyn’s attitude wasn’t so terrible. From the moment she arrived with her four massive suitcases, it was like living with a critical, nitpicking tornado.
Nothing I did was good enough. Every meal I cooked became an opportunity for her to remind me of my apparent shortcomings, and she always managed to do it when Sammy wasn’t around.
Woman in her 30s standing in a kitchen looking upset while an older woman in the background holds dishes | Source: Midjourney
One evening, I’d spent hours making a pot roast with all the trimmings. The kitchen smelled amazing, and I’d even used my grandmother’s secret recipe. After I turned off the stove, Gwendolyn peered into the pot and wrinkled her nose.
“Oh dear,” she said, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Are you sure that’s cooked through? Poor Sammy, having to live with someone like you! How can anyone eat THIS?” She shook her head slowly. “In my day, we knew how to properly care for our husbands.”
Woman in her 50s looking down at a pot on the stove in the kitchen with disgust | Source: Midjourney
I gripped the mixing spoon so tight my knuckles turned white. “The meat thermometer says it’s perfect,” I replied through clenched teeth.
“Well, those things aren’t always reliable,” she sniffed, poking at the meat with a fork. “And really, Paulina, did you have to use so much garlic? Sammy won’t like it.”
Actually, this was one of my husband’s favorite dishes, but I let it go. It was easier. But eventually, her nagging about housework pushed me to my breaking point.
Pot roast cooking on a stove with a meat thermometer | Source: Midjourney
It happened during yet another dinner where she’d spent 20 minutes describing how her bridge club friend Martha made the same dish, only “so much more flavorful.”
“If you don’t like my cooking,” I said, setting down my fork with a small clatter, “then you’re more than welcome to buy your own groceries and make your own meals.”
I expected World War III to break out right there in our dining room. Instead, Gwendolyn dabbed her lips with her napkin and smiled. “What a wonderful idea,” she said sweetly. “I’ll start tomorrow.”
Woman in her 50s dabs napkin on mouth during dinner | Source: Midjourney
I frowned but continued eating.
For a few days, everything seemed fine. We had separate shelves in the fridge and separate cabinets for dry goods. But then things started getting weird.
I’d come home from work, exhausted and starving, only to find that the leftovers I was counting on for dinner had vanished into thin air.
The first time it happened, I thought I was losing my mind. The roast chicken I’d meal-prepped the night before was gone. Even the fruit bowl I’d filled that morning was almost empty.
Cut up fruit in a bowl in a fridge | Source: Midjourney
My husband and I were both working long hours at our jobs, so there was only one possible culprit. But every time I tried to bring it up, Gwendolyn denied eating anything.
One evening a few days later, after discovering my leftover piece of lasagna gone, I cornered her in the kitchen. “I’ve noticed that the food I cook keeps disappearing,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Do you have any explanation for that?”
Again, she had the same excuse. “You must be imagining things. You and Sammy probably just ate it and forgot,” she said, patting my hand condescendingly.
Woman in her 50s patting the hand of a woman in her 30s in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
I knew it was her and considered why she might be hiding it. Perhaps, her money issues were worse than I thought, and she was too proud to say anything.
Well, she wasn’t too proud to live with us this long while insulting everything I did, so I shook off any sympathy I felt and focused on how I could find proof of her stealing.
That’s when I remembered her allergy to nuts and lactose intolerance. As any good host, I had gotten rid of nuts and bought oat milk for the duration of her stay, but enough was enough.
view from the top, a cinematic, dramatic photograph of a 50-year-old woman’s hands patting a younger woman’s hand, background is a kitchen counter, afternoon light, vivid colors –ar 3:2
I ran a quick errand later, stopping by the grocery store on my way home.
The next morning, I got up early and made a special casserole that I knew smelled too delicious to resist.
Into it went a generous amount of real heavy cream and a healthy sprinkle of crushed cashews. Still, I wrote a big label in red marker: “DANGER! Contains nuts and dairy!” and stuck it right on top of the dish.
I also told her about it. “Don’t eat this,” I warned Gwendolyn before leaving for work. “It will make you sick!”
Woman in her 30s in work clothes in the kitchen pointing at someone like a warning | Source: Midjourney
She barely looked up from her morning paper. “For the last time, I’m not the one touching your food,” she replied with a sniff. “Remember, we agreed to keep things separate.”
I nodded, but I knew she would eat it. When I got home later that day, the scene that greeted me was hilarious, but I had to contain my amusement.
Gwendolyn stood in our kitchen, practically vibrating with rage. Her face had turned an alarming shade of red, and angry hives covered her whole body, which she kept scratching frantically.
Woman in her 50s with red hives on her face from an allergy in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
Meanwhile, I set my purse down on the counter, taking my time. “My goodness,” I said calmly. “What’s going on here?”
She whirled around, pointing a shaky finger at the half-empty casserole dish. “You!” she shrieked, her voice cracking. “You tried to kill me with that food!”
“But I thought you said you didn’t eat my meals?” I asked, tilting my head slightly. “Also, I warned you. Did you even read the label?”
The look of realization that crossed her face was priceless. Her eyes widened in horror as she fumbled in her purse for her EpiPen. She quickly injected it into her thigh.
Woman in her 50s holding prescription anti-allergen medication in the living room | Source: Midjourney
A second later, Sammy walked in. As he loosened his tie, he looked from his red-faced, panicked mother to me and frowned. “What’s all the commotion?” he asked.
“Your wife,” Gwendolyn gasped out between wheezes, “tried to kill me!”
Shaking my head, I explained everything calmly. “I made a casserole with nuts and dairy. I labeled it clearly and warned her not to eat it because I know about her dietary restrictions. She still did it.”
I pointed to the label, still stuck to the container.
Container of food on top of kitchen counter that says “Danger, contains nuts and dairy” | Source: Midjourney
Before Sammy could respond, Gwendolyn let out a groan and clutched her stomach. She bolted for the bathroom, leaving us standing in the kitchen.
“I’ll sue you for this!” her voice carried through the bathroom door. “You deliberately tried to poison me!”
When she finally emerged, looking pale and disheveled, I was ready. I pulled the document she had signed months earlier from one of the kitchen drawers.
A woman in her 30s is holding a folded paper that reads “Rules” | Source: Midjourney
“I think you’ve forgotten about our first agreement, the one you signed when you came here,” I said, holding it up. “We weren’t charging you rent, but you agreed to split the utilities, and,” I paused for effect, “not to touch our food or groceries unless we were having dinner together.”
I pointed to the clause in question, which she’d initialed herself.
Woman in her 30s pointing at a piece of paper in her hands in the living room | Source: Midjourney
“At first, we shared meals because it was nice to sit together and have the same food,” I continued, raising one eyebrow at her. “But you decided you didn’t like anything I made, so this rule had to be followed.”
“But–” she blubbered, but Sammy chimed in.
“Mom, she’s right. You agreed,” he said, crossing his arms. “Paulina has been more than nice, even though you’ve been difficult. Admit it was your fault for not heeding her warning, and from now on, stop eating our food unless we specifically want to share.”
Man in his 30s with arms crossed looking disappointed in the living room | Source: Midjourney
Gwendolyn’s face turned an even brighter shade of red… this time from shame. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again, but no words came out.
Then, she stomped to the spare room and stayed there until morning. Surprisingly, her house renovations magically sped up after that incident, and she was out of our house in only a week.
During that time, though, she didn’t complain at all. She barely talked to us. She made her own meals, and we even shared some dinners, where I assured her that nuts and dairy weren’t involved.
Woman in her 50s in the kitchen cutting ingredients with concentration | Source: Midjourney
One time, Gwendolyn actually complimented my chicken with caramelized onions. “This is… good,” she’d said grudgingly, grabbing another serving.
I smiled, a little proud of myself. Maybe, you were never too old to learn a good lesson.
The day she left, she surprised me with a hug and a quiet, “Thank you, Paulina. For everything.”
I smiled and told her she could visit any time. We would always be there to help. Just for the record, I wasn’t proud of what had to be done to get to that point. But you have to stand up for yourself, especially with relatives who can’t appreciate what you do for them.
Woman in her 30s on the front porch waving with a smile | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
Two Brothers Couldn’t Share Their Grandfather’s Inheritance Until the Old Man Told Them a Wise Way to Do It
John and Matt have never seen eye to eye. From childhood squabbles to adult disagreements, their rivalry only grows stronger. When their beloved grandfather passed away, he left them a sizable inheritance, but there’s a twist. The brothers must find a fair way to split everything. Can the siblings set aside their differences and honor their grandfather’s last wish?
Why do some siblings never get along?
Grayscale image of two boys | Source: Pexels
John and Matt grew up in a cozy suburban home. As children, they constantly competed for their parents’ attention and praise, which led to many arguments. Their parents tried so hard to create harmony between them, but nothing seemed to work.
Two serious-looking boys posing outside their home | Source: Midjourney
Their beloved Grandfather Dudus was always in the middle, trying to reconcile his grandsons. He would sit them down and share wisdom and stories, hoping to mend their bond.
“Brothers should be each other’s best friends,” he often said, but his words fell on deaf ears. John and Matt’s quarrels continued, and the bitterness followed them into adulthood.
A grandfather and his two grandsons | Source: Midjourney
John was the older brother, and he always felt a need to prove himself. He wanted to be the best at everything.
Matt, who was just two years younger, resented always being in his brother’s shadow. He wanted recognition, too, but felt overshadowed by John’s achievements.
Two young men standing with their backs facing each other | Source: Freepik
Their parents were exhausted from the constant bickering. They hoped the brothers would find common ground one day. But that day never came. Small disagreements over toys and games turned into bigger conflicts over achievements.
Grandfather Dudus’s efforts never managed to bridge the gap either. He tried his best to end the conflict between the boys, but John and Matt couldn’t see past their rivalry.
An elderly man sitting on a couch with two boys | Source: Midjourney
Years passed, and the rivalry grew more intense.
John excelled in school, sports, and later in his career. Matt tried different paths to outshine his brother but never felt successful. Their childhood arguments became adult resentments. Family gatherings became tense and uncomfortable.
Two men drinking beer | Source: Freepik
As adults, their relationship remained strained. The unresolved tensions of their childhood had a lasting impact. Despite their parents’ hopes and Grandfather Dudus’s wisdom, John and Matt never found peace. They never became friends.
Then, one day, their beloved Grandpa passed away. John and Matt were heartbroken.
People attending a burial | Source: Unsplash
Despite never listening to him when he tried to make peace between them, they had always loved him deeply. Grandpa Dudus had always been there for them, sharing stories, giving advice, and showing them unconditional love.
After the funeral, the brothers were invited to Dudus’s lawyer’s office. The two brothers shifted in their seats as the lawyer, Mr. Campbell, finally entered and sat down.
A male lawyer | Source: Freepik
“Thank you for coming, boys,” he began as he pulled out a document. “Your grandfather has left a substantial inheritance for both of you. This includes a house, some land, a car, and a significant amount of money in the bank.”
John and Matt exchanged looks, their old rivalry flaring up. The lawyer continued, “But there’s a condition. You can only use the inheritance when you come to me and say you’ve split it fairly, with no complaints.”
A serious-looking man in suit | Source: Freepik
John frowned. “That’s ridiculous! I deserve more! I always took care of Grandpa!”
Matt shook his head. “You? You were never around. I was the one visiting him every week.”
The lawyer raised a hand to calm them. “Gentlemen, your grandfather wanted this to bring you together, not drive you apart.”
A man in suit talking to a person | Source: Midjourney
John’s voice was sharp. “But I did more for him! I should get more!”
“Cut it, John! You’re just trying to take everything, as usual!” Matt sneered.
Two young men in suit chatting at a lawyer’s office | Source: Midjourney
Their voices rose, echoing in the office. The lawyer sighed, watching them argue. He even tried to interrupt them, but neither of the two men would listen.
“I’m not giving in to you, Matt,” John stood up, anger flashing in his eyes. “I deserve a bigger share. I’m the older one.”
A young man in suit talking to his brother | Source: Midjourney
Matt stood up, too, matching his brother’s glare. “How does that make you entitled to a bigger share? If you want to keep doing this, fine! Then we both get nothing. Are you happy with that?”
At that moment, the room fell silent. The lawyer looked at them both and sighed. “Is this how you want to remember your grandfather? By fighting over his gift?”
A senior man in suit looking serious | Source: Freepik
John and Matt looked away, their anger still simmering but mixed with shame.
“Your grandfather believed in both of you. He wanted you to work together. I suggest you take some time to think about this, boys. His legacy is in your hands,” Mr. Campbell finished.
Last will and testament | Source: Unsplash
And so it happened that a week later, in John’s living room, the brothers sat down to negotiate the inheritance. The atmosphere was tense as they each proposed different distributions.
John wanted the house and half of the money, leaving Matt the land, the car, and the rest of the money. Matt, however, felt the house should be shared, with the money and other assets split evenly.
A wooden house and a person stacking coins | Source: Pexels
“You’re just trying to take more than your share!” John accused, his voice rising with a sense of superiority.
Matt, frustrated, shot back, “And you’re being selfish, as always. This isn’t just about you!”
Two men arguing at home | Source: Freepik
Their voices echoed through the house, and every attempt at negotiation ended in frustration. Neither brother was willing to give an inch, and their relationship, already fragile, seemed on the verge of breaking entirely.
“We need to think of what Grandpa wanted,” Matt said, trying to calm the situation. “He wanted us to work together.”
John scoffed. “You think I don’t know that? But I did more for him! I deserve more!”
A man getting aggressive while talking to another man in black | Source: Freepik
“That’s not true, and you know it,” Matt replied, his frustration growing. “We both loved him!”
“You’re impossible to deal with,” John said, shaking his head.
“And you’re just as stubborn,” Matt replied.
A man hiding his one eye with two fingers | Source: Pexels
The brothers eventually sat in silence, each lost in their thoughts. They realized that something had to change, but neither knew how to make the first move.
Meanwhile, the lawyer’s words echoed in their minds: “Your grandfather believed in both of you. His legacy is in your hands.”
A smiling old man | Source: Pexels
Days passed, and the brothers were no closer to an agreement. One afternoon, while arguing on a busy city street, John and Matt were at it again.
“I should get the house and the car,” John insisted, his voice rising. “I took care of Grandpa more than you did!”
Matt’s face turned red. “That’s not true! I visited him every week. You just want the best parts for yourself.”
Two men during an argument | Source: Midjourney
Their heated argument caught the attention of a homeless man sitting nearby. He watched them for a while before approaching.
“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” he said gently.
John and Matt stopped arguing and looked at the man with irritation. “What do you want?” Matt snapped.
A homeless man sitting near metal post | Source: Pexels
“Yeah, this is none of your business,” John added dismissively.
The homeless man smiled kindly. “I heard you two arguing about your grandfather’s inheritance. I once heard a parable about two men who couldn’t divide a plot of land. So they came up with an idea. One of the men would divide the plot into two parts as he decided and thought would be fair, and the other was to be the first to choose one of the parts for himself. Thus, the first man did everything to make the parts equal. The other simply chose from the two already equal parts.”
Man in black jacket standing near sidewalk | Source: Pexels
The brothers exchanged glances.
“Maybe we should try it,” John said reluctantly.
Matt nodded, equally hesitant but willing to give it a shot. “Alright, let’s see if it works,” he agreed.
Two men chatting in a street | Source: Midjourney
And so, a few days later, they met in John’s living room again. The tension was still there, but the memory of the homeless man’s story gave them hope. John took a deep breath and said, “I’ll divide the inheritance. You choose first.”
Matt nodded. “Okay, let’s see what you come up with.”
Two men chatting at home | Source: Midjourney
John carefully divided the assets: the house, the car, the land, and the money. He made sure each part was as equal as possible. When he finished, he looked at Matt. “Here you go.”
Matt studied the divisions, his face thoughtful. After a long pause, he pointed to one half. “I’ll take this one.”
John nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. “Alright. That’s fair.”
Two men at home | Source: Midjourney
A week later, John and Matt found themselves back in the lawyer’s office, but this time, their demeanor was markedly different from their previous visit.
When they presented their decision to Mr. Campbell, he was pleasantly surprised by the fairness of their division. “For the first time, I see you two agreeing on something,” he remarked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
A smiling man sitting with a laptop and some documents | Source: Pexels
John and Matt exchanged glances. “We realized it was the best way to honor Grandpa,” John said.
Matt nodded. “It wasn’t easy, but we managed.”
Mr. Campbell looked at them, pleased. “It’s a testament to your grandfather’s wisdom and his enduring influence on your lives. Well done, boys.”
A senior man looking genuinely pleased | Source: Pexels
As they signed the necessary documents, Mr. Campbell observed the transformation in their relationship. The brothers, once bitter rivals, now stood as partners and friends.
Walking out of the lawyer’s office, John turned to Matt and extended his hand. “Let’s make this work,” he said sincerely.
Matt shook his brother’s hand firmly. “Agreed. For Grandpa.”
Two happy men walking together | Source: Freepik
“I still can’t believe we did it, though. We actually worked together.”
Matt smiled. “Yeah, it feels good. Grandpa would be proud.”
John chuckled. “I never thought we’d see the day when we weren’t at each other’s throats.”
An old man holding a cane | Source: Pexels
Matt laughed. “Me neither. But here we are.”
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