Remember the tales of the grandmother’s daughter and grandfather’s daughter or grandmother’s son and grandfather’s son? Well, something like that happened in my family. My mother had two of us – myself, my eldest son and my youngest daughter. For some reason since childhood my mother didn’t like me much, I would even say, she despised me, but she worshipped my sister. I was madly loved by my father and before his death he wrote a will for the house (it belonged only to him) to me. Mother and sister were incredibly furious that I got the house and began to lecture me that I must give them the house – after all, they are women, my sister is studying, my mother is not working, but I was against it. Anyway, after a quarrel, I left for another city.
Everything was going well with my job, I decided to take out a loan for an apartment, though the annual interest rate was not small – nevertheless, I wanted to have a place of my own.
And then there were problems at work, job cuts, I found another job, but the salary promised a better job. In general, I was no longer able to pay the loan. I decided to put the apartment up for sale and to go back to my mother’s house. When I arrived, my mother even smiled.
-Hello, Mother. How are you?
-I’m fine, and how are you settling in? I heard you bought yourself an apartment. And you didn’t want to leave us the house. That’s how shamelessly you did to your own people.
-Mom, I bought an apartment, but on credit, and now I’m selling it, because there’s no way to pay. That’s why I’m going to live with you now. Clean up my room, please.
-I have no words,” my mother said angrily and went to another room.
I decided to go into my father’s study and look for the hiding place that his friend had told me about. And yes, I found it, by the ceiling (I never would have thought that something was hidden there). It turned out that my father kept a diary and also set aside a few thousand rubles. I didn’t tell my mother about it-I’m sure my father didn’t want me to.
