**Diary Entry**
Every day, our home shakes with argumentsnot between my husband and me, but because of my son-in-law. The man my daughter married is endlessly lazy and irresponsible. He hasnt held a steady job in over a year, relying on odd jobs here and there, then wasting the rest of his time doing nothing. My daughter bears the entire weight of the family, raising twin toddlers while on maternity leave. And him? He just exists.
Of course, my daughter cant work full-timethe twins need constant care. I offered to help, but with one condition. A firm one: I wont give another penny unless she divorces that parasite. Helping her would only mean supporting him too, and I refuse to bankroll someones laziness.
I never liked David from the start. I hoped shed wake up, see sensebut no. Youth, love, illusionsthey clouded her judgment. Now were left dealing with the fallout.
My husband and I gave them my grandmothers flat. It used to be rented out, our only extra income in retirement. But the young couple couldnt afford rent, so we handed it over. All I asked was a bit of refurbishingjust enough to make it comfortable for the children.
And thats when David showed his true colours:
*”I wont lift a finger. Im not a handymanIm an intellectual. Hire professionals.”*
With what money, exactly? He hasnt earned enough to buy a screwdriver. All he does is philosophise and blame bad luck. Evening work? Out of the question. Weekends? *”Thats time to rest.”* Hes grown used to everything being handed to him.
When I called him out for being a layabout, he sulked. *”Youre being unfair.”* And my daughter? Instead of backing me up, she snapped:
*”Youve caused another row. Why do you interfere?”*
I stepped back. But I made myself clear: if she chose this mess, shed deal with it alone. No more handouts. Then came the twins, and my heart broke. I thought David might step upbut no. The burden fell on us. We finished the renovations, bought the cots, even took Emily to her doctors appointments. Him? Slouched on the sofa, glued to his laptop.
Emily tried her best, but I could see she was realising who shed married. Together, we managed to prepare the flatall done by hand. Of course, he later bought a few sale trinketsno excuse. When you have a family, you act like a man. He? Just a lodger in a house built by others.
Then we found out how they were scraping by: a hidden credit card. No word until the call came
*”Mum, we cant manage. Please help”*
I was furious.
*”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 patch? Youve got a home, parents carrying youand him? He wont take a job if the pays beneath him or the hours dont suit!”*
*”Mum, you dont understand Hes looking! He wont work for peanuts!”*
*”Peanuts keep families alive! You, your children, himall on our backs!”*
Ive had enough. No more being their cash cow.
*”Unless you leave him, dont come begging. Not another pound. If you choose this life, live with it.”*
She sobbed.
*”Youd have my children grow up without a father?”*
And I said what Id held back too long:
*”Better no father than one who teaches them to leech.”*
Im a mother. But I wont be a doormat. I want my daughter raising children with a man, not a millstone. I want her to respect herselfnot beg for help while he sips his tea.
She hung up in silence. But one day, shell understand.
