That night, I threw my son and his wife out of the house and took back the keys: The moment I realised I couldn’t take it anymore
My heart still pounds like I’ve been running for miles. A week ago, I kicked my own son and his wife out. And do you know what? I don’t regret it one bit. They brought this upon themselves. Coming home from work that fateful evening, I found my house in chaos—a chaos I could no longer endure. There was a time I’d have been over the moon to see my son, but everything had changed.
Six months ago, my life turned upside down. Exhausted after my shift, I unlocked the door to my flat in an old building on the outskirts of Manchester and froze. There, at the kitchen table, sat my son Edward and his wife, Felicity. She was slicing sausages while he lazily scrolled through his phone. Spotting me, Edward flashed a grin:
“Hey, Mum! Just popped round for a visit.”
I was pleased—what mother wouldn’t be? But soon, I realised this wasn’t just a visit. Edward and Felicity hadn’t just “popped round”—they meant to stay. Turned out, they’d been evicted from their rented flat for not paying. Hardly a shock. How many times had I warned them? If they couldn’t afford a posh place in the city centre, they should’ve looked somewhere cheaper! But no, they had to have the fancy décor, the upscale district.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” I asked, feeling unease bubble inside me.
“Mum, it’s just for a week. I’ll find somewhere new, promise,” Edward assured me.
A week? That’s nothing, I thought. Of course, I agreed. I’m his mother—I had to help. If only I’d known how much I’d regret it. Felicity wasn’t just a guest; she was a full-blown disaster. Her cheek knew no bounds.
The week flew by, but Edward and Felicity showed no signs of leaving. They settled into my flat like it was theirs. Edward stopped even pretending to flat-hunt. I bit my tongue, trying not to stir trouble. But Felicity’s behaviour wore me down. She never lifted a finger—never cooked, never cleaned, never so much as washed a plate. Living rent-free, the least she could do was show some respect!
Felicity didn’t work. While Edward was out, she’d lounge about—off to see mates or glued to the telly. Her laziness grated on me more each day. A month passed, then another. Finally, I snapped:
“Felicity, ever thought of getting a job? You’d have money, something to do.”
She flared up like a lit match:
“We know how to live our lives! Keep your nose out!”
I was gobsmacked. So, I was bankrolling them—no rent, no bills, no groceries. Living like they were on holiday while I kept quiet? Every word I said sparked a row. I felt my own life slipping away.
The breaking point came a week ago. I came home from work craving peace. Instead, the telly blared from the next room. Edward and Felicity were howling at some daft reality show. Having a laugh, while I had to be up at dawn for work.
I’d had enough. Storming in, I spat:
“How much longer is this going on?”
They gaped at me like I’d grown a second head.
“Don’t you think I deserve some rest? I need sleep!” I tried to explain.
Felicity rolled her eyes:
“Oh, Margaret, don’t start! We’ll turn it off when this is over.”
Edward chimed in:
“Mum, stop being dramatic! What’s got into you?”
That was the last straw. I exploded. Screamed at them to switch it off right then. Maybe it would’ve ended there, but Felicity started giggling like I’d told a joke. Her nerve finished me.
“Pack your things and get out!” I roared. “I want you gone by morning!”
I turned to leave, but Felicity snorted. That did it. I didn’t wait. Grabbed three bags and started shoving in their clothes, shoes, whatever I could grab. They tried to stop me, mumbling excuses, but I wasn’t having it.
“Leave now, or I’ll call the police!” I threatened.
The bags went flying onto the pavement. Edward and Felicity tried apologising, but I was done. Took back the keys and slammed the door. That night, for the first time in half a year, I breathed easy.
I’ve no idea where they went. Probably mooching off friends or Felicity’s parents. They’ve got enough mates to sponge off. But I won’t be treated like that again. No regrets. Maybe it was harsh, but I took back my home—and my life.