MY IN-LAWS TREATED ME LIKE AN ATM — SO I TAUGHT THEM A LESSON THEY’D NEVER FORGET
When my mother passed away, I inherited $500,000. It wasn’t enough to retire on, but it was a safety net—a way to ensure my future and maybe make life a little easier.
Then, my in-laws found out.
Before? They barely tolerated me. Patricia, my mother-in-law, always made snide remarks about my cooking. Robert, my father-in-law, never missed a chance to remind me that I wasn’t “good enough” for his son.
But after they learned about my inheritance? Oh, suddenly, I was the best thing that had ever happened to their family.
Every conversation turned into a request for money.
– “Robert needs a car—just $5,000! You wouldn’t want him driving that old junker, right?”
– “Patricia’s dental work is so expensive! Only $8,000… You’d want your MIL to smile, wouldn’t you?”
– “The house could use a little renovation. Just $20,000! You’re practically investing in the family!”
I wasn’t naïve—I knew what they were doing. But at first, I helped. Family helps family, right?
In three months, I had handed them $40,000.
Then came the final straw.
One evening, Patricia smiled sweetly over dinner and said, “Since you have all that money sitting there, how about a $150,000 down payment for OUR house?”
I was done.
I smiled back, just as sweetly. “You’re right, Patricia. Family helps family. In fact… I’ve planned something special.”
She and Robert beamed. My husband, sitting beside me, gave me a curious glance.
That Sunday, at a big family dinner, I stood up, raised my glass, and said:
“I have an announcement.”
The room fell silent. My in-laws leaned in eagerly, expecting some grand gesture of generosity.
“Since you all have been so supportive of my inheritance, I wanted to return the favor. So, I’ve made a big decision…”
Patricia’s eyes practically glowed. Robert looked smug.
I took a deep breath and smiled.
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“I donated $250,000 to charity this morning.”
Silence.
Then—chaos.
Patricia’s face turned red. “YOU DID WHAT?!”
Robert choked on his drink. My husband’s jaw dropped.
I continued, cool as ever. “I realized there are people who actually need help. So, I made sure the money went to shelters, scholarships, and single parents who are struggling.”
Patricia stammered. “B-but… OUR house! OUR down payment!”
I shrugged. “You’re right, Patricia. Family helps family. I just found a new family to help.”
She stormed out.
Robert followed, muttering about ‘ungrateful wives.’
But my husband? He laughed.
Later that night, he pulled me into a hug. “I was wondering when you’d put them in their place.”
From that day on, my in-laws stopped asking for money.
And me? I still had my security—and my peace of mind.