Diary Entry
I’ve been married for ten years now, living with my wife in our modest two-bedroom flat in Manchester. Were still working hard to pay off our mortgage. We havent gathered the courage yet to start a familyfirst, we want to be sure were well settled and secure on our own two feet.
I have a brother, David. Hes married as well. Theyre crammed into a tiny one-bedroom flat. David juggles two full-time jobs, occasionally taking extra shifts just to make ends meet. His wife, Claire, doesnt work, but seems to be in a constant state of expecting. They already have three childrenshes pregnant with the fourth, and apparently dreaming of a fifth. Along with their children, theyve taken out loans for nearly every home appliance you can imagine.
Whenever they find themselves short on groceries or strapped for cashwhich is oftenmy wife and I step in. Sometimes helping with a few pounds, sometimes with food. Claire, though, has the nerve to demand things rather than ask politely. When she oversteps, we have to stand our ground and tell her no. This, as always, offends her and David, but inevitably a few weeks later, theyre back with another outlandish request.
A few days ago, Claire came round and said, Since you and your wife havent got any children, and were soon to be a family of six, you ought to let us have your flat.
I was gobsmacked. And where exactly do you expect us to live? In your one-bedroom? I replied, unable to fathom her nerve.
Oh, well just rent yours to tenants, and you can use the money to rent somewhere for yourselves, she said, with not a hint of doubt in her voice. So, when will you be moving out?
I just stared. You know what, Claire? You need to get your head checked. And get out of my home while youre at it.
She glared and shot back, If anything happens to this baby, its on your head! Then she stormed out. Later that same day, she disappearedgone somewhere in secret, three months pregnant.
At two in the morning, David came bursting into our flat, accusing me of every misfortune under the sun. My wife managed to calm him, and I told him exactly what had happened. David wasnt listening, so I took a jug of cold water and gave him a soaking or two to bring him back to his senses, then gently showed him out of our home. Since then, I haven’t heard a word from him. I suppose Ive lost my brother.
What Ive learnt from this: even family can take entitlement to outrageous levels. Sometimes, for your own sanity and the sake of your marriage, you have to say noeven if it means burning bridges.
