My In-Laws Told Me to Sleep in a Barn. I Wasn’t Ready for Such Disrespect & Took My Revenge – Story of the day

All I wanted was to spend Christmas introducing my in-laws to my twins, whom they had never met. But instead of being welcomed, I was told to sleep in a barn. Alone.

What do a barn, a crib, and a Facebook fiasco have in common? Try my Christmas with my in-laws.

I’m Evelyn, and I have a little holiday horror story. Think creepy barn. Think twins. Think in-laws taking the babies away.

My husband, Mike, and I have been happily married for two years, and we recently welcomed our twins into the world — double the love, double the joy, and double the nappies. So, this year, when we were trying to decide how to celebrate the twins’ first Christmas, Mike’s parents invited us to stay at their place for two weeks.

I was expecting two weeks of rest, thinking that the in-laws would seamlessly move into the role of grandparents, allowing me to sleep in. I also thought they would love and cherish Mike and me a little more because we hadn’t seen them since the wedding.

So, honestly, I was excited for the two-week trip. I packed enough clothing for all four of us and enough snacks for the twins. I packed treats for the in-laws and got some of that wildflower honey my mother-in-law is obsessed with putting into her tea. I was ready for that joyous family reunion.

But when we landed on their doorstep, things took an unexpected turn. Of course, they were genuinely excited to meet the twins, sweeping them up and smothered them with kisses. I was overjoyed. That’s what every mother wants — for her children to be showered in unconditional love.

But there were conditions to my in-laws’ love. It turns out that Mike and I were to sleep in different rooms. Fine, I thought that maybe they just wanted to give us space. And the bedroom was Mike’s childhood bedroom, so it was a little snug. But when they showed me my room, my jaw dropped, and my stomach knotted.

It was a barn. A barn. A barn, complete with a heater, a bed, and a bunch of random barn stuff along the shelves. It smelled like hay and old dairy. Which made no sense because I didn’t know that they kept animals. But that’s not the point right now.

I tried talking to Mike about it. Thinking that maybe he could shed some light on this bizarre sleeping arrangement. I mean, we’re married. We have children. There’s no chastity here.

But Mike dismissed it, saying that I was making a big deal out of nothing and that a barn with a bed and heating was more than enough.

“What are you complaining about?” he asked.

I asked Mike’s parents where the babies were going to sleep because there was no way that I could keep them both in a single bed. And in a barn. But they needed to be with me. They weren’t ready to sleep alone yet.

The in-laws said they had set up a crib for the twins in their bedroom. They expected Mike and I and our babies to sleep separately, too. Naturally, I lost it. I argued with Mike’s parents, and they threw the “our house, our rules” line at me.

When I went to find Mike, he had conveniently disappeared to hang out with his high school friends — leaving me to deal with his parents and the tiresome twins.

By then, I was utterly done with the madness. So, I concocted a plan for revenge. I took photos of my vacation home and the barn. I booked the first flight home and left Mike a message, telling him about my abrupt departure.

At the airport, I sat with the sleeping twins and nibbled on chocolate while I posted the barn photos on Facebook, spilling all the details about Mike and his family. Then, I boarded and turned my phone off.

Right now, my phone is still blowing up with furious messages. Mike is mad at me for making his parents look bad, and my in-laws are calling me names — apparently, I am spoiled and ungrateful. And now, even my brother-in-law and sister-in-law are trying to convince me to delete the post and apologize to their parents.

I am now at my parents’ place, contemplating staying here for Christmas. My mother is now getting the twins into matching onesies while gingerbread cookies are baked in the oven. We are loved here. We are cared for here.

So, tell me.

What would you do in my place? What do you think I should do next?

Who would have thought the family visit could be such a disaster.

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