My FIL Moved Into Our House After My MIL Ended Up in the Hospital & He Tried to Make Me His Maid — He Didn’t Expect My Response

When my father-in-law, Frank, moved into our home after my mother-in-law’s hospitalization, I thought we were helping. But his helplessness—expecting me to fetch coffee, make sandwiches, do his laundry—tested my patience and marriage.

Senior couple having tea | Source: Midjourney

Frank had always relied on Sarah for everything. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. My husband Brian impulsively invited him to stay “temporarily.” Soon, suitcases filled our guest room.

At first, he was grateful. Then: “Fix me toast, dear.” “Iron my shirt.” Brian, oblivious, started mimicking him—leaving plates out, demanding drinks.

The breaking point: Frank hosted an unasked-for poker night. His buddies turned our living room smoky; I slaved in the kitchen refilling beers and ice. Overhearing Frank tell Brian, “That’s how you treat a woman,” I snapped. It echoed how he’d treated Sarah for decades—and now Brian too.

Senior men hanging out | Source: Midjourney

Next morning, I drafted a “rental agreement”:

– One family meal daily; cook your own extras.
– Do your own tasks: drinks, laundry, cleanup.
– Dishes in dishwasher; fold your clothes.
– Host your guests fully.
– No sexism—mutual respect only.
– Everyone pitches in chores.

Identical cubes with RULES | Source: Pexels

I presented it to Frank: “Follow or leave.” He fumed; Brian hesitated. “Your dad’s turning you both entitled,” I said firmly. Silence. They signed.

When Sarah returned, I showed her the rules. She smiled at “mutual respect”: “I wish I’d done this years ago.” Exhausted, she admitted carrying it all since marriage.

Senior woman smiling while reading | Source: Midjourney

Waving the paper, Sarah told Frank, “You’ve got work, mister.” He groaned but complied—drying dishes without argument.

Brian whispered, “Think he’ll stick?” Watching Sarah hand him a towel, I replied: “He has no choice. We’re all playing by the rules now.”

True family means boundaries, not servitude. Our home—and theirs—finally balanced.