My Husband Demanded a Third Child – After My Response, He Kicked Me Out, but I Turned the Tables on Him

When my husband, Eric, suggested having a third child, I knew something had to change. I wasn’t about to take on more responsibility while he lounged around like a king. After I told him exactly what I thought, he kicked me out — but not before I turned the tables on him.

Have you ever had one of those moments where you finally hit your breaking point? That was me when my husband demanded another baby as if I didn’t already have my hands full raising two kids practically alone.

What followed was a showdown I never saw coming.

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

My husband, Eric, and I have been married for 12 years. I’m 32, and he’s 43. We have two kids: our daughter, Lily, who’s ten, and our son, Brandon, who’s five.

Raising them has been my full-time job while I keep this house running.

I work part-time from home to help with the bills, but still handle everything. By everything, I mean cooking, cleaning, school drop-offs, laundry, bedtime routines, and more.

A woman working in the kitchen | Source: Pexels

A woman working in the kitchen | Source: Pexels

Eric, on the other hand, believes his only job is to “provide.” And that’s where his involvement ends. He’s never changed a diaper, stayed up with a sick kid, or even packed a lunchbox.

It’s exhausting, but I love my kids.

I’ve accepted that I’m basically a single parent while Eric sits on the couch, watching sports or playing video games. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get frustrated.

A person holding a game controller | Source: Pexels

A person holding a game controller | Source: Pexels

Last month, my best friend invited me out for coffee. It was the first time in weeks I had a chance to get out of the house for something fun.

“Eric, can you watch the kids for an hour?” I asked as I slipped on my shoes.

His eyes stayed glued to the TV. “I’m tired. I worked all week. Why don’t you just take them with you?”

I sighed. “Because I want a break. It’s just an hour. They’ll be fine.”

A close-up shot of a woman's face | Source: Midjourney

A close-up shot of a woman’s face | Source: Midjourney

Eric rolled his eyes, reaching for the remote. “Katie, you’re the mom. Moms don’t get breaks. My mom never needed breaks. Neither did my sister.”

My jaw clenched. “Oh, so Brianna and Amber never felt overwhelmed? They never needed a minute to themselves?”

“Exactly,” he said smugly. “They managed just fine. You should, too.”

That’s when I lost it.

A man looking at his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at his wife | Source: Midjourney

“Eric, your mom and sister probably felt exactly like I do! They just never said it out loud because they knew no one would listen.”

Eric waved his hand dismissively. “Whatever. It’s your job, Katie. You wanted kids. Now take care of them.”

I wanted to scream.

“They’re your kids, too!” I said. “When do you ever take care of them? When was the last time you helped Lily with her homework? Or played with Brandon? Or asked them how their day was?”

A woman arguing with her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman arguing with her husband | Source: Midjourney

“I go to work to keep a roof over your head. That’s enough.”

“No, it’s not!” I shot back. “Providing money isn’t the same as being a parent. You’re their father, Eric. They need you.”

“Well, tough. I’m not changing how things are.”

I stared at him, speechless. How did I end up married to someone so selfish?

A woman sitting in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in her house | Source: Midjourney

A few days later, Eric started mentioning having another baby. At first, I thought he was joking. I mean, we could barely handle the two kids we already had.

But the more he brought it up, the more I realized he was serious.

The next time Eric brought up having a third child, it wasn’t just a passing comment. He was serious.

It started over dinner one night. I was cutting up Brandon’s chicken nuggets when Eric, casually scrolling on his phone, said, “You know, I’ve been thinking… we should have another baby.”

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

“Excuse me?” I said as I turned toward him.

He looked up. “A third kid. I think it’s time.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Eric, I barely manage with the two we already have. And you want to add another?”

His brow furrowed like I was the one being unreasonable. “What’s the big deal? We’ve already done it twice. You know how it works.”

A man looking at a woman | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at a woman | Source: Midjourney

“That’s exactly the point,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “I know how it works. I’m the one who does all the work. I’m the one up at night. I’m the one running around like a lunatic, trying to keep everything together. You don’t help.”

Eric’s face darkened. “I provide for this family, Katie. That’s helping.”

“No, it’s not,” I snapped. “Being a parent is more than just bringing home a paycheck.”

A woman talking to a man | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to a man | Source: Midjourney

Before Eric could respond, his mother, Brianna, who had stopped by earlier to “visit the kids” with her daughter, walked into the kitchen.

“Everything okay in here?” Brianna asked, her eyes darting between us.

Eric sighed dramatically. “Mom, she’s at it again.”

I rolled my eyes. “At what again?”

“She keeps telling me I don’t help with the kids.”

Brianna’s lips pursed as she took a seat. “Katie, sweetheart, you need to be careful. A man doesn’t like to feel criticized by his wife.”

An older woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

An older woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

Criticized? I was fuming. “I’m not criticizing him. I’m asking him to be a parent. There’s a difference.”

But Brianna wasn’t hearing it. “Eric works hard to provide for this family. You should be grateful.”

Grateful. Right. For a man who thought fatherhood ended with conception.

“And you’re already blessed with two beautiful children,” Brianna continued. “Why wouldn’t you want another?”

She heard our conversation. Nice.

“Because I’m exhausted,” I said flatly. “I’m already doing everything by myself. Why would I want to make my life even harder?”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

That’s when Amber, Eric’s sister, chimed in, stepping into the kitchen like she owned the place. “Honestly, Katie, you sound a little spoiled. Mom raised both of us without complaining.”

“Right,” I said with a bitter laugh. “And I’m sure she never felt overwhelmed. She just kept quiet because no one would’ve cared if she did.”

Amber’s eyes narrowed. “Well, maybe you need to toughen up. Women have been doing this for centuries. It’s just what we do.”

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

I turned to Eric. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re so stuck in this outdated mindset where women are expected to handle everything. It’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair, Katie,” Eric shrugged. “Deal with it.”

I stared at him, feeling like I’d hit a wall. He wasn’t going to change. Neither was his mother or sister.

Later that night, after Brianna and Amber had left, Eric brought up the third child again. This time, his tone was more insistent.

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” he said as we got ready for bed. “We’ve got a good life. I take care of you and the kids. We should have another.”

A man standing in his bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in his bedroom | Source: Midjourney

I turned to him, finally at my breaking point. “Eric, you don’t take care of me. Or the kids. You barely even know them.”

He just stared at me, his expression blank.

“You’re not the great dad you think you are,” I continued. “And I have zero interest in being a single mom to three kids. Two is hard enough.”

Eric’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

A doorknob | Source: Pexels

A doorknob | Source: Pexels

I heard his car start, and moments later, he was gone. Off to his mother’s house, no doubt.

The next morning, I was up early, sipping my coffee in silence. The kids were at my sister’s place. I’d called her the night before, knowing I needed someone to lean on.

I didn’t expect Eric to come back right away, but I wasn’t surprised when Brianna and Amber showed up instead.

They didn’t even knock.

A woman standing in her son's house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her son’s house | Source: Midjourney

“Katie,” Brianna began, stepping into the kitchen. Amber followed, arms crossed and lips pursed. “We need to talk.”

I leaned against the counter, keeping my face calm. “I’m not sure what there is to talk about. Eric and I need to work things out ourselves.”

Amber scoffed. “That’s exactly what we’re here to help with.”

“I don’t need your help,” I said, my voice steady.

But Brianna wasn’t backing down. “Katie, dear, you’ve changed. You’re not the sweet girl my son married.”

An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney

That comment hit me harder than I expected.

For years, I’d been trying to live up to some version of myself they had in their heads. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I was a grown woman with responsibilities they couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

“You’re right,” I said, locking eyes with her. “I’m not that girl anymore. Eric married a teenager. Now, I’m a woman who knows her worth.”

Brianna’s face turned red. “Excuse me?”

A close-up shot of an older woman's face | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of an older woman’s face | Source: Pexels

I crossed my arms. “You heard me. And honestly, if Eric has a problem with how I run my household, he should be here talking to me. Not sending you two to do it for him.”

Amber’s voice was sharp. “That’s not how family works. We support each other.”

“Really? Funny how that support only ever seems to go one way.”

At that, my sister walked in. She took one look at the scene and immediately sensed the tension. “Everything okay here?”

A woman in her sister's house | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her sister’s house | Source: Midjourney

Brianna turned on her. “Who are you?”

“Her sister,” she replied with a sweet smile. “And you guys need to calm down. Otherwise, I can call the authorities.

Brianna’s face twisted with rage, and I braced myself for the onslaught of insults. Sure enough, she launched into a tirade about how I was “ruining” her son’s life, how I was a bad wife, and how my kids would grow up hating me.

But I didn’t flinch.

A woman standing in her kitchen, looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her kitchen, looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

They finally left a few minutes later, slamming the door behind them.

Later that day, Eric came home. I heard his footsteps before I saw him, and I could feel the tension as he stepped into the kitchen.

“So,” he began, his voice cold, “you insulted my mother and sister?”

I folded my arms. “I didn’t insult anyone. I told them they had no right to interfere in our marriage.”

Eric’s expression darkened. “You don’t love me. You don’t love the kids. You’ve changed.”

An upset man in his house | Source: Midjourney

An upset man in his house | Source: Midjourney

“I haven’t changed, Eric. I’ve grown up. There’s a difference.”

Our argument spiraled, going in circles until he finally exploded.

“Pack your things and leave,” he demanded, pointing to the door. “I can’t live with you anymore.”

I was stunned, but I didn’t argue. I packed my bags and stood at the door, ready to leave. But before I stepped out, I turned to him one last time.

A woman standing in the doorway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in the doorway | Source: Midjourney

“The kids are staying here,” I said. “Whichever parent stays in this house will be responsible for them. They’re not going anywhere.”

“Wait… what?” he asked. “That’s not happening.”

“You heard me,” I said calmly. “You wanted me gone, fine. But the kids stay.”

Then, I walked out with my sister without listening to anything else Eric had to say.

He tried calling me later, but it was too late.

Ultimately, Eric refused to take custody of the kids, and I filed for divorce.

A person signing a paper | Source: Pexels

A person signing a paper | Source: Pexels

In the end, I kept the house, got full custody, and received substantial child support payments. I’m glad I stood up for myself before it was too late. Do you think I did the right thing? Or did I go too far?

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My Entitled Parents Demanded That I Give Them My New House — My In-Laws Suddenly Stood up for Me

When Carina’s parents kick her out after high school, she has no choice but to navigate her way around life. Years later, after making a success of her life, and her wedding is around the corner, she reaches out to them, only for them to storm into her life, trying to take ownership of what she has worked so hard for.

“Carina,” my mother said, opening a packet of biscuits. “You’re going to regret not going to medical school.”

“Mom,” I replied. “My brain doesn’t work like Jade’s; she’s the doctor in the family, not me.”

A packet of biscuits | Source: Midjourney

A packet of biscuits | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t see why it can’t be the both of you,” she sniffed, dunking a biscuit into her lukewarm tea. “Why do you even waste your time with computers? Those machines are not going to make your life comfortable.”

This wasn’t anything new. My parents hated that I loved computers, and when school was out in the next few months, I was going to be off to college, studying IT.

A girl sitting with a laptop and headphones | Source: Midjourney

A girl sitting with a laptop and headphones | Source: Midjourney

“Who cares about cyber security, Carina?” my father asked while he sat down with a pork chop. “Saving people’s lives, honey. That’s what success is. Not playing on computers.”

“Cyber security is how your important details are protected, Dad,” I would always say, rolling my eyes. “It’s how countries keep their people safe.”

Pork chops on a plate | Source: Unsplash

Pork chops on a plate | Source: Unsplash

“It’s not good enough,” my mother said from the sink.

After graduation, my parents made me leave the house.

“You’ve chosen this path,” my mother said when I bought my IT textbooks. “So you’re capable of taking care of yourself.”

A pile of books | Source: Midjourney

A pile of books | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t think that’s fair, Mom,” I retaliated. “You let Jade live at home for her whole degree.”

“Yeah, well, she was learning how to save lives, Carina,” she said.

A woman looking through a microscope | Source: Pexels

A woman looking through a microscope | Source: Pexels

Fast forward 13 years. I’ve got a successful career, a beautiful house, and the most caring fiancé, Mark, I could have ever asked for.

“Are you sure that I should invite my parents to the wedding?” I asked Mark as we took a walk one evening.

“Yes, darling,” he said, taking my hand. “Why wouldn’t you? I’m so proud of who you are and where you’ve come from. You’ve done all of this on your own.”

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

“But they’ve been such horrible people, Mark. I mean, they kicked me out of their home when I got into college. I had to work as a dog groomer to make enough money to cover the rent for my tiny apartment,” I said.

“Yes, I understand that,” my fiancé said diplomatically. “But you’ve made it now. And you’ve made it without them. Look, honey. Our home is yours; it’s in your name, and I love that for us.”

A person grooming a dog | Source: Pexels

A person grooming a dog | Source: Pexels

Eventually, I gave in. The excitement of our wedding planning made me realize that I was proud of myself and where I had come from.

“I did it without their support,” I told Mark as I fried bacon for us one morning. “So, I’m going to invite them.”

Mark smiled at me while he poured milk into his coffee.

A person pouring milk into coffee | Source: Unsplash

A person pouring milk into coffee | Source: Unsplash

“Good, this is a big moment for us,” he said.

When my parents and sister arrived, they were stunned by my house. They assumed that I was renting a room of the house. Of course, they didn’t think that I was capable of something bigger and better than that.

A beautiful home with a large garden | Source: Midjourney

A beautiful home with a large garden | Source: Midjourney

“Carina! You own this entire house?” my father asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Yes, Dad,” I said, wheeling my mother’s suitcase in, they seemed to think that they were spending the night. “I worked hard for this.”

A suitcase in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A suitcase in a living room | Source: Midjourney

“Wow, I didn’t expect this,” my sister said, looking around.

“So, I thought that we could do dinner at a restaurant tonight, and then come home for dessert and coffee. You guys can spend time with Mark and my in-laws.”

They were going to be over at any moment, the first meet and greet almost underway.

But that’s when the entitlement kicked in.

A beautiful living room | Source: Unsplash

A beautiful living room | Source: Unsplash

My mother’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the living room, taking in my television and other things.

“You know, Carina,” she declared, her tone leaving no room for argument. “We deserve to live in comfort after all we’ve done for you.”

Then, she promptly sat down on the couch.

An older woman sitting | Source: Pexels

An older woman sitting | Source: Pexels

“Mom, what are you talking about?” I was incredulous. “This is my home. I bought it with my own money. You did absolutely nothing for me after high school.”

“But we’re your parents,” she insisted. “We should live better than our children. It’s our right. It’s the only right thing.”

“You can’t be serious,” I said, my voice rising. “Jade still lives with you because you wanted to baby her after her night shifts. And me? You didn’t care. This isn’t my responsibility.”

An older woman looking around | Source: Pexels

An older woman looking around | Source: Pexels

My father stepped in at this point, crossing his arms.

“After everything we’ve sacrificed for you, this is the least you can do.”

“Jade needs a place to stay, too,” my mother said.

“Jade is an adult,” I snapped. “She made her choice to live with you, just like I made my own.”

An older man | Source: Unsplash

An older man | Source: Unsplash

I felt bad that I was speaking about Jade in this way, especially because she was sitting on the couch and looking at my plants.

But my sister had chosen my parents when they kicked me out. She barely kept in contact with me, only stopping to text me on my birthday or Christmas morning.

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Unsplash

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Unsplash

At that moment, the door opened, and my future in-laws walked in. I had always been close to them, wanting to find parental figures in Mark’s parents.

“We’ve been hearing this entire conversation from outside,” Tom said.

“Carina’s achievements are hers,” my future mother-in-law, Carol, said firmly. “She’s worked hard for this, and she deserves every bit of it.”

A smiling woman holding a bouquet of flowers | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman holding a bouquet of flowers | Source: Pexels

My mother turned to her, eyes blazing.

“Who the hell are you? We have rights to this house; she’s our daughter.”

Carol didn’t flinch; she stood with her arms folded, a smile playing across her face.

“Why did you remember that only now? Where have you been all these years? Being her parents doesn’t mean that you can take credit for her hard work. Carina has earned this.”

An angry old woman | Source: Pexels

An angry old woman | Source: Pexels

My parents were stunned into silence, and Jade couldn’t even look up.

“Carina invited you to celebrate her wedding, to celebrate the union of her and our son. To join our families. She did not invite you to berate her and have her hard work claimed,” Tom said.

“She owes you nothing but respect because you raised her, but that doesn’t mean giving up her home,” Carol said.

A young mother and daughter | Source: Pexels

A young mother and daughter | Source: Pexels

“But we’re her family,” my mother said, clearly not expecting this level of pushback.

“Only by blood,” Mark said, stepping into the house. “Family supports one another. They don’t tear you down. And that’s what you’ve done to Carina for years.”

“You should be so proud of your girl,” Carol continued. “She’s done so much for us. I am so proud of her. Tom, too. She’s the daughter that I wanted all along.”

A smiling man | Source: Pexels

A smiling man | Source: Pexels

Mark found his way to me, wrapping his arm around my waist.

I looked at my parents, seeing the dawning realization on their faces.

“I love you, I do,” I said. “But this is my life, and you’ve only been in it again for five minutes, and you’re already demanding things of me. Is that fair? I’ve worked too hard to let anyone take that away from me.”

My father sighed heavily.

An elderly man looking down | Source: Unsplash

An elderly man looking down | Source: Unsplash

“We didn’t mean to upset you,” he said.

“Then respect my choice,” I said gently. “Be present for my wedding, but after that, you can go your own way again.”

After the confrontation, my parents seemed to understand, if only a little.

A bride holding a card | Source: Pexels

A bride holding a card | Source: Pexels

When we left to the restaurant, everyone was subdued, except for Mark and my in-laws. I didn’t see a point in canceling the dinner because of the confrontation.

We sat down to eat, everyone lost in their own thoughts while Carol made comments about seeing me in my dress.

“Mark, you’re in for such a treat. Carina looks beautiful in that dress,” she said, digging into her salmon.

I smiled at my future mother-in-law. I always knew that she loved me, but her comments of the day had truly made me realize just how much.

A bride with wedding dresses | Source: Pexels

A bride with wedding dresses | Source: Pexels

I was lucky. I had gotten lucky with Mark, but even more so with his parents.

I watched as my mother’s face fell when Carol went on, talking about the dress fitting. But I didn’t have it in me to make her feel better.

After dinner, we left the restaurant, parting ways with my parents and sister.

“We’ll see you at the wedding,” my father said, getting into the car.

“Yes,” I said. “I’ll see you then.”

A man sitting in a car | Source: Pexels

A man sitting in a car | Source: Pexels

Let’s see what happens at my wedding.

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you:

Claire just wants to be the glamorous mother-of-the-groom—but when she realizes that her daughter-in-law has her own plans for the wedding, she steps back to focus on her own outfit, only for there to be a fight between her and Alice on the big day. Alice claims that Claire has destroyed the wedding by stealing her dream dress, while Claire sees nothing wrong in her actions. Who is wrong?

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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