When Jeremy and his wife, Nina, get home from a vacation, they are horrified to find Ted, Jeremy’s slob of a brother, in their home. After a confrontation which leads to angry parents and Nina moving out, Jeremy forces Ted’s hand, making him move out…
When I came home from vacation, I was expecting to relax, maybe pop open a bottle of wine with my wife, and enjoy the peace of our home. Instead, we walked into a living room that looked like a complete frat house after a party from Hell.
A couple on vacation | Source: Midjourney
There were beer cans everywhere, dirty clothes tossed in random piles, and the smell, my goodness, the smell. And there, sprawled out on my couch like he owned the place, was my older brother, Theodore, or Ted, as everyone called him.
“Ted, what the hell? What is this? Why are you in my house?” I asked, trying to stay calm, though my blood pressure was rising by the second.
Nina, my wife, looked around our living room and rolled her eyes. In that moment, I knew that I had to fix it or I’d have to deal with a very upset wife.
A messy living room | Source: Midjourney
My brother looked up, casually, like I hadn’t just caught him red-handed.
“Oh, hey, Jeremy,” he said. “Mom and Dad figured that it would be easier if I just moved in while you were gone. You’ve got all this space, and it’s not like you’re using it, you know? You and Nina are either working or on vacation.”
I blinked, trying to process the audacity of his words.
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“You moved in? You moved into my house? Without asking? Ted, are you insane?”
He rolled his eyes, lifting his feet onto the couch and crossing them like he was about to watch a movie.
“Yeah, so what?” he said. “I needed a place to stay, and it’s not like you’d say yes. So, we decided to skip that part. Quit being so uptight, Jeremy. Just help a brother out.”
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
It was like a switch flipped inside me, the years of watching him leech off my parents, his life one big excuse after another, and somehow, he was the victim here.
Now, he’d taken over my house. Really?
Just as I opened my mouth to speak, my phone rang. Mom. Of course.
I answered, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible.
A man holding his phone | Source: Midjourney
“Mom, did you and Dad seriously let Theodore move into my house while I was away?”
“Why are you using my full name?” Ted chimed in from the background.
I ignored him.
“Jeremy, don’t be so dramatic,” my mother said, not even a hint of apology in her voice. “Ted needed a place to stay, and you’ve got all that room. You don’t even have kids yet. So what’s the harm in helping out your brother?”
An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.
“Mom, he is 42 years old. He isn’t a kid. You’ve let him mooch off you for years, and you want to dump him on me? Are you being serious? Why do you want to treat him like he’s a kid just out of college?”
My mother’s tone shifted, and she immediately went on the defense.
“Oh, mooching, huh?” she said. “I’m disappointed in you, Jeremy. He’s been through a lot. You don’t understand what it’s like to be him. You’ve always had everything together. Ted needs a little more help. And as family, you owe it to him.”
A frowning man | Source: Midjourney
Been through a lot? My brother had two children under the age of five, with two different women. And he didn’t bother to support either of them. How was I supposed to feel sorry for this man?
Before I could respond, my father took the phone, his voice taking over my ear, sounding even more irritated.
“Jeremy, stop being selfish. You’ve got the money, the house, the wife. What’s the big deal? It’s your job to take care of your family. Ted is your brother. He is staying.”
Two young children | Source: Midjourney
I almost lost my mind. I almost let my anger take over me. But then I remembered that it just wasn’t my style. Ted might’ve thought that he had won this time, but I had a plan.
“It’s not about the space, Dad,” I said. “It’s about respect. Ted can’t just live here without my permission. Nina and I have worked hard for our home. And what’s even worse? My wife just has to deal with this, too.”
From the couch, Ted snorted.
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, come on. Don’t act like you’re all high and mighty. It’s just a house,” he said.
“But you’ve been freeloading off Mom and Dad for years. Why should I trust that you’d do anything differently here? Why can’t you stay with one of your kids and their mom?”
I thought that was the card that would have frustrated him. But he didn’t even flinch.
A frowning man | Source: Midjourney
“Because I’m family, that’s why. Why do you always act like I’m a stranger? It’s my right to stay here. Mom and Dad said that you’d be like this, but I didn’t think you’d be this bad.”
I was done.
“Fine, Ted,” I said. “You want to stay? Sure. Let’s see how that works out.”
I was fine with being horrible to my brother, I mean, someone had to teach him a lesson. But when I went upstairs to tell Nina about everything that had happened on the phone, she was highly frustrated.
A disgruntled man | Source: Midjourney
“Jer, you can’t be serious,” she said as I sat down on the bed across her.
“I’m going to fix it. I promise you, Nina. I’ll make this right. But I’m going to teach him a lesson first.”
“Well, I don’t want to be here for it. You have a week. Get him out, or I’ll stay gone,” she said.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked.
An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney
“I’m going to my sister’s house, Jeremy. I can’t stand your brother, and I will not stay here while he’s here,” she said, packing a suitcase as she spoke.
“I’ll make this right, my love,” I promised her.
For the next week, I made Ted’s life a waking nightmare without ever raising my voice. And with Nina gone, I had a bigger incentive to get him out.
A woman packing a suitcase | Source: Midjourney
The first thing I did was disconnect the Wi-Fi. Ted, who spent most of his days glued to his phone or binge-watching shows on the TV, was completely lost.
He complained, but I just smiled.
“Oh, the internet? Yeah, it’s been spotty.”
Next, I shut off the hot water. Ted loved his long, lazy showers, but now he was greeted with ice-cold water every morning.
Water running in a shower | Source: Midjourney
“Must be something wrong with the plumbing,” I’d say innocently when he whined about it.
Then, there was the food.
I stocked the fridge with nothing but tofu, vegetables, and the healthiest food I could find. Ted hated anything that wasn’t greasy or fried. And now, every time he opened the fridge, he groaned like I was starving him.
“You’re family, right?” I’d say. “I’m sure you can deal with a little inconvenience. But it’s for my health, so you’ll be fine.”
An array of healthy food | Source: Midjourney
To top it all off, I started blasting music at 6 a.m. every day while I had my treadmill session in the gym room. I figured if Ted wasn’t going to contribute to the household, the least he could do was get up early.
He hated it all, of course. And by day five, he looked like he was on the verge of losing his mind.
“Jeremy, man, this is BS,” Ted said one morning, his voice filled with frustration. “I can’t stay here. How do you live like this? No Wi-Fi, no hot water, and no food I enjoy. This is torture.”
A man on a treadmill | Source: Midjourney
I raised an eyebrow.
“I thought you’d be grateful to stay, Ted. It’s not like you’re paying rent or contributing anything. What’s the problem?”
He grumbled something under his breath, clearly fuming.
“Forget it, I’m going back to Mom and Dad’s.”
An annoyed man | Source: Midjourney
As he stormed out, dragging his junk with him, I couldn’t help but smile.
But I wasn’t done yet. I cleaned the house top to bottom, went out to get proper groceries, and cooked Nina a good meal. I had already called her during the day and told her that Ted was gone.
“Come home, honey,” I said.
“I’ll see you later,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
While waiting for Nina to shower, I knew that there was just one more thing to do.
“Mom, Dad,” I said on the phone. “Ted’s out of my house. And he won’t be coming back again. He’s your problem again.”
My mother was furious.
“Jeremy, you can’t just kick him out! Where will he go?”
“That’s up to Ted, Mom. He’s 42. If you guys want to keep coddling him, go ahead. But I’m done.”
A man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
After that, I heard that Ted moved back into my parents’ house, but they demanded that he transform the garage into his own space. They forced him to get a job.
Ted was upset, of course, so they blamed it all on me. But I was fine with that. Nina and I had our home back, and we were at peace.
A garage converted into a bedroom | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
My Husband ‘Accidentally’ Locked Me in the Basement to Watch Basketball with His Friends at Our House
Dani cannot stand her husband’s friends. So when Ethan brings up the possibility of having them over to watch a basketball game, she shuts down the idea. On the evening of the game, Dani finds herself going into the basement to get a pack of beer, but before she knows it, she’s locked inside. What happens next?…
I should have just said no from the start. Not just when Ethan brought up the idea of his friends coming over for dinner. I mean way before that, like when I first realized how awful they were. I never outright said that I didn’t hate them, but let me be honest with you: I think I made it pretty clear.
An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney
But my husband, Ethan?
He’s so different from these guys. At 35, he’s a successful manager at a tech company, and for reasons that I will never understand, he’s still friends with the same guys he went to high school with.
They’re loud, rude, and completely unlike Ethan. They’re everything he left behind when he made something of himself.
Except, apparently, his loyalty to them.
A man sitting in his office | Source: Midjourney
“Dani, it’s just one game,” he said that night, sitting in the kitchen with a hopeful grin. “The guys really want to watch the game here. They’re dying to see our new TV setup. It’ll be fun!”
I sighed, trying to stay calm. I could almost see the dreadful evening unfolding. I knew that Ethan’s friends would take over the house, inappropriate comments getting into every conversation.
“Ethan, you know how I feel about them. Every single time they come over, it’s like our house gets turned into a frat house. I’m not cleaning up after them again. It’s not happening.”
A man sitting at a kitchen counter | Source: Midjourney
My husband’s face dropped, a look of wounded pride flashing in his eyes.
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 Sister Broke My Son’s Guitar Because Her Son Couldn’t Play It – I Made Sure She Learned Her Lesson
When my sister Laura shattered my son Ethan’s prized guitar — the one he’d spent two years saving for — I knew I couldn’t let it slide. It wasn’t just a guitar she broke; it was his dream. What followed was a lesson in respect and consequences she’ll never forget.
Have you ever watched someone’s dream get ripped apart in seconds? I did, and let me tell you, it’s a gut-punch you don’t forget. My son Ethan’s 14th birthday was supposed to be perfect. Instead, it turned into a nightmare, all thanks to my sister Laura.
A sad teenage boy on his birthday | Source: Midjourney
“Mom,” Ethan had whispered to me years ago, his eyes fixed on that gleaming guitar in the music store window. “One day, I’m gonna play just like that man on TV. I promise.”
Ethan, my sweet boy, had been dreaming of a guitar since he was little. But guitars don’t come cheap, and as a single mom, I couldn’t just buy him one. So, when he was 11, I told him, “You really want that guitar? You’ll have to work for it, bud.”
“How long will it take?” he’d asked, his voice trembling with determination.
“However long it takes, honey. But I know you can do it.”
And he did. For two years, he did odd jobs for neighbors. He mowed lawns, watered their plants, shoveled snow, skipped out on candy and toys, and saved every penny of birthday money he got. He worked harder than some grown men I know.
A boy watering plants | Source: Freepik
By his 13th birthday, he was still $200 short, so I pitched in the rest, and we walked into that music store together. You should’ve seen his face when he held that guitar for the first time — it was pure joy.
“Mom,” he’d whispered, cradling it like it was made of glass. “It’s even better than I dreamed.”
Over the next year, he taught himself to play. Every night, his fingers were raw, but he didn’t care. He’d watch YouTube videos, rewind them a hundred times if he had to, just to get it right. By the time he was 14, he wasn’t just good; he was incredible.
“Does it hurt?” I’d ask, watching him massage his fingertips after practice.
“Yeah,” he’d smile, “but it’s a good kind of hurt. Like I’m earning something.”
A boy playing a guitar | Source: Pexels
At school, he became “the kid with the guitar.” People started noticing him, and his confidence shot through the roof. That guitar wasn’t just an instrument — it was his pride, passion, and the most precious thing he’d poured his heart into.
Then there was Jimmy, my sister Laura’s son, who attended the same school as Ethan.
Jimmy’s the same age as Ethan, but they couldn’t be more different. Jimmy saw Ethan getting all this attention, and suddenly, he wanted a guitar too.
A furious boy | Source: Midjourney
The thing is, Jimmy wasn’t willing to put in the work. Laura bought him a guitar, but it mostly sat in the corner of his room gathering dust.
The trouble started at Ethan’s 14th birthday party. He’d been practicing this one song for weeks — a little surprise performance for everyone.
“I’m nervous, Mom,” he confessed just before the party. “What if I mess up?”
“Baby, you’ve worked so hard for this moment. Just play from your heart, like you always do.”
A cheerful woman | Source: Midjourney
He stood there in front of our family and friends, his guitar in hand, and poured his heart into every note. It was flawless, and I have to admit, it brought tears to my eyes.
When he finished, the room erupted in applause. He was beaming, and I couldn’t have been prouder. But then Laura, with her big mouth, chimed in.
“That was amazing, Ethan! Jimmy, why don’t you show everyone what you’ve been working on? Ethan, be a sweetheart and hand your guitar to Jimmy, would you?”
A woman frowning | Source: Midjourney
Ethan froze. His knuckles whitened around the neck of his guitar. He looked at me, silently pleading. But I’ve always taught him to be generous and kind, so I gave him a small nod. With hesitation written all over his face, he handed his prized possession to Jimmy.
Jimmy strummed it awkwardly, and it was clear within seconds that he couldn’t play a single chord. The other kids started snickering, and poor Jimmy turned beet red. I felt bad for him, but Laura made things ten times worse.
“Let me see that,” she said, snatching the guitar from Jimmy’s hands. Then, with one careless, frustrated motion, she tossed it toward the couch and hissed, “It’s just a cheap guitar anyway!”
She MISSED.
The guitar SMASHED AGAINST THE WALL INSTEAD with a sickening CRACK and fell to the floor in splinters.
A shattered guitar | Source: Pexels
“No, no, no!” Ethan’s voice cracked as he rushed toward his broken dream. “Please, no…”
The room went dead silent. Ethan’s face crumpled, and his hands flew to his mouth like he was trying to stop himself from crying. But it was no use. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he stared at the broken pieces of what he’d worked so hard for.
Laura had the nerve to say, “Oh, I didn’t mean for that to happen. I was aiming for the couch.”
A woman smirking | Source: Midjourney
“You DESTROYED it,” Ethan retorted. “Two years of work… gone. Just like that.”
“Come on, Ethan! It’s just a stupid guitar. Your mom can always get you another one!”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Before I could even process what had just happened, Laura grabbed Jimmy and left the party, leaving me to pick up the pieces of my son’s shattered dreams.
An angry boy | Source: Midjourney
That night, as I held Ethan while he cried, I made him a promise: “I’ll fix this. I don’t know how yet, but I’ll fix it.”
“It won’t be the same,” he sobbed into my shoulder. “That guitar… it was special. It was mine. I earned it.”
“I know, baby,” I whispered, fighting back my tears. “I know.”
The next morning, I woke up still furious. I texted Laura, trying to stay calm.
“You need to replace Ethan’s guitar,” I wrote.
Her reply made my blood boil. “It was an accident, Alice. And honestly, Ethan shouldn’t have embarrassed Jimmy like that. If he hadn’t shown off, none of this would’ve happened.”
A furious woman | Source: Midjourney
“Shown off?” I typed back, my hands shaking. “He worked for TWO YEARS to earn that guitar. TWO YEARS of his childhood, Laura. And you destroyed it in seconds because your son felt embarrassed?”
Excuse me?! My son SHOWING OFF? I could hardly believe the words on my screen.
I started typing a scathing response but stopped myself. I wasn’t going to argue with her. It was of no use. Instead, I decided to hit her where it hurt most: her precious reputation.
You see, Laura lives for appearances. She’s one of those women who needs to be the “perfect mom” and the “favorite aunt.” So, I shared about what happened and her so-called “carefree” attitude right in our family group chat.
Close-up shot of a woman using a phone | Source: Unsplash
I uploaded a picture of Ethan holding the broken guitar, his face red and puffy from crying. Underneath, I wrote:
“My son Ethan spent two years working his butt off to save for this guitar. Last night, his own aunt destroyed it. He’s heartbroken.”
Relatives started chiming in immediately, asking what happened. Laura tried to brush it off. “It was an accident! I was aiming for the couch!”
But then someone shared a video from the party. The clip showed Laura snatching the guitar and hurling it. You could hear the CRACK as it hit the wall. Her face twisted in frustration, and it was clear as day that it wasn’t some innocent mistake.
The group chat exploded. People were furious. “How could you do that?” “You owe Ethan a new guitar!”
But Laura’s excuses weren’t cutting it.
A shocked woman holding her phone | Source: Midjourney
“I can’t believe you’d humiliate your own nephew like this,” our cousin Sherine wrote. “A child’s dream isn’t a toy to be thrown away when it makes your son uncomfortable.”
And yet, Laura still tried to defend herself. “It was an accident!” she insisted. “I wasn’t trying to break it. People are blowing this way out of proportion.”
But I wasn’t done.
A few weeks later, Ethan had a performance at a local charity event. He’d been practicing with a borrowed guitar, and I’d never seen him so nervous.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Mom,” he confessed backstage, his hands trembling. “What if I mess up? What if they laugh at me like they laughed at Jimmy?”
I took his face in my hands. “Listen to me, Ethan. You are stronger than anyone I know. You didn’t just learn to play guitar — you earned every single note. Now go out there and show them what real passion looks like.”
When he stepped on that stage, something shifted. The moment he started playing, all that fear melted away.
A delighted boy playing a guitar on the stage | Source: Midjourney
He was incredible. The audience gave him a standing ovation. But what made it even better? Laura was in the crowd, and I could see her squirming in her seat as people whispered around her. “Isn’t that her nephew? Didn’t she break his guitar?”
“That poor boy,” I heard someone whisper. “Can you imagine working so hard for something only to have your own aunt destroy it?”
By then, I’d already launched a fundraiser to replace Ethan’s guitar. I’d shared his story — how he’d worked so hard and how his dream had been shattered. Donations poured in. And within days, we had enough money for a custom-built guitar.
A guitar on display | Source: Pexels
When the guitar was ready, I invited the family over for a small dinner. Ethan stood in the living room, holding his new instrument, and played a song he’d written himself. When he finished, everyone cheered.
Everyone except Laura, who sat in the corner, staring at her plate.
“This song,” Ethan announced, his voice steady and clear, “is called ‘Rising from the Broken Pieces.’ Because sometimes when things break, they come back stronger.”
A frustrated woman seated at a dining table | Source: Midjourney
As the night wound down, I leaned in close to her. “You know,” I said, my voice low, “it would’ve been a lot cheaper if you’d just paid for the guitar in the first place.”
She didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to.
“And Laura?” I added, making sure only she could hear me. “Next time you want to teach someone a lesson about showing off, remember this moment. Remember how it feels to be the one everyone’s whispering about.”
Ethan’s dream was back, stronger than ever. And Laura? She learned that some things like respect and hard work can’t be broken as easily as a guitar.
That night, as I passed Ethan’s room, I heard him playing softly. The melody was different now — more confident, more resilient. Just like him.
A cheerful boy playing a guitar in his room | Source: Midjourney
“Mom?” he called out as I was about to walk away.
“Yes, honey?”
“Thank you for teaching me that some things are worth fighting for.”
I smiled, feeling tears prick in my eyes. “No, baby. Thank you for teaching me what real strength looks like.”
An emotional woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
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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