Some may call me an ungrateful grandson, who finds it difficult to get into the position and put up with his grandmother for a couple of months, but it is important to understand that I am an adult, an independent person, who was able in a relatively short time to collect for a house in a new building, and successfully pay the communal rent every month. I like to live alone, I like my apartment to be as tidy as I want it to be, with everything in its place and only what I eat in the fridge.
With my grandmother’s arrival, that has all changed. She’s been taking care of her sick stomach, she often goes to the hospital, so she’s staying with me temporarily. She’s a short drive from me to the hospital, and it’s expensive and hard to drive from the suburbs, given that the treatments are twice a day. Any normal person in her spare time would rest in her place, but she’s always making a mess of my apartment. Reinvented everything: the couch has moved to the window because there is more space, and I do not care that there is no TV watching, in the kitchen, all the drawers and cabinets overhauled, bedding to his liking picked up in the bathroom, conducted an audit of all the shelves and threw out the rest, which I needed. She got to my closet without asking, thinking that I had grown out of something and could put it in the trash.
Once again, I feel like a twelve-year-old, being cared for and almost spoon-fed by my grandmother, actually preparing greasy and unhealthy food and telling me that I must eat it, because she spent hours cooking.
She is bored in my absence, and just sit bored, but is it necessary to pry into my affairs and clean the apartment under himself? It was mine, and will remain mine after her departure.
I do not want to insult her, and when I delicately ask her not to do anything, she thinks I care about her and forbid her to strain, though I prohibit touching and moving my stuff.
When is she going to finish her treatment and come home?
