— This is pig food, — said my daughter-in-law when I called her for dinner: My patience snapped, and I did something I don’t regret

— This is pig food, — said my daughter-in-law when I called her for dinner: My patience snapped, and I did something I don’t regret. 

When my son recently got married, I sincerely hoped that his chosen one would be a kind, responsible girl. But sadly, life turned out differently. Since my daughter-in-law doesn’t work, the young couple couldn’t afford a place of their own and moved in with me. I tried to welcome them warmly — after all, family is family, my son got married, and I wanted peace at home.

But very soon, I realized I was wrong in my expectations.

My daughter-in-law turned out to be unbelievably lazy. She would only get up around noon, go straight to the fridge, grab something to eat, and return to the room where she spent the whole day lying with her phone. No offers to help, no questions like “what should I do?”, “how can I help?” — as if the house took care of itself. She didn’t even want to look for a job.

I clean the floors. I cook. I do the laundry. Even the dishes for those two adults, I had to wash — she didn’t even consider it necessary to clear her own plate. When I tried to hint that there should be order at home and something needed to be done, she either pretended not to hear or waved me off:

— I’m not obliged to clean in someone else’s house, — I heard her say once.

What annoyed me the most was that she spent hours on her phone, even when I asked her for something simple — to pass the spoons, set the table. It was like she didn’t hear me.

We lived like that for several weeks. I endured. I endured for my son — he is young, inexperienced, maybe she would change… But a few days ago, something happened that broke my patience.

I made the soup my son has loved since childhood — thick, with good meat broth and homemade noodles. I put the pot on the stove and called them to the table. The daughter-in-law reluctantly got up from the sofa, came over, opened the pot lid, looked inside with disgust, and said:

— This is pig food. I’m not going to eat this.

You can’t imagine how broken I felt inside at that moment. I put my soul into that soup, wanted to treat them, make my son happy, and she…

I don’t even remember how I lost it. I just grabbed the ladle, scooped the soup, and poured it right over her head. Let her feel what “pig food” is.

Then I told her everything I had bottled up inside:

— Pack your things and leave my house. I will always welcome my son, but I never want to see you again!

She stood there, soup dripping down her hair, blinking. She looked pathetic, but I didn’t care anymore. My son tried to defend her, of course, but I was firm.

Let anyone say what they want about mothers-in-law. My conscience is clear. I defended my home and my work.