Brother Asked Us To Leave Our Home w Our 5 Kids For His Wedding To House Fiancée's Family

Am I the a-hole for not letting my brother have my house for his wedding? I have younger brothers and one of them I’ve always gotten along with really well until his girlfriend came along. It was a gradual change in our relationship. But I think my brother made a mistake of making some fair or unfair comparisons between her and me. For example, I have overheard him and his girlfriend in a heated argument when she was trying to quietly hiss angrily at him for praising his sister’s cooking, my cooking, more than her cooking, but it is their relationship and I haven’t ever gotten involved in those niggles, even though I am aware of them.

Anyway, they got engaged recently and while my brother’s family is here, all of her family needs to travel here for the wedding. When they got engaged and came over to our house to break the news to us, we congratulated them. And then my brother said that they had something to ask us. His fiancée then asked if we could move out and live with my parents for three weeks while they used our house for her family to stay in both before and after the wedding. I have a lovely big house that I live in close to the city with my husband and five children. Plenty of rooms, pool, and gardens which we have spent years establishing.

My kids catch the bus to school from here, a ten-minute bus ride, and I work from home, and my husband works about ten minutes drive away. My parents, on the other hand, live another forty minutes away on rural acreage. And while we have stayed at their house every now and then with our children, we have never stayed more than a weekend. Anyway, after I got over the initial shock of her request, with my brother just sitting there nodding his head, I said, “No, it wouldn’t be possible. Though I would love to be able to help them with their wedding in other ways and I suggested we could host a family gathering at ours.”

I tried to explain that it is not suitable for my family with five kids to stay with my parents for three weeks. We have school work logistics and my parents are getting older and probably would not be able to cope with five noisy kids around all the time. It did not go down very well at all. My brother started angrily telling me that I was being very rude and unhelpful and that this was only for three weeks and would save them a lot of money accommodating all of her family. His fiancée walked out yelling behind her as she always knew I thought myself better than her. My brother followed her out and my husband and I were left to sit there in shock at what just transpired.

Am I being selfish for not wanting to do what they requested and move my family out of our home for three weeks? I should add that my brother knows that a couple years ago my husband, my kids, and I willingly moved out of our house and into a caravan to travel around the country for four months. So, I can see why he would think it would be okay for us to move out for three weeks to my parents. He probably thinks we could have a little bit of a station. And my parents property has far more space than what we had when we were traveling around in a caravan. But him not having kids yet, he doesn’t understand the school, work, aging parents side of things. So yes, I reckon he could see me as being quite selfish for not wanting to give up my convenient lifestyle at a time of his choosing.

Am I the a-hole for walking out on a bachelorette party when I’m the maid of honor? I went to a bachelorette party in Atlantic City. After a four-hour drive, the bride, we’ll call her Melissa, could not be bothered to get out of her seat and give me a hug or introduce me to the other girls. No one made any effort to get to know me at dinner. When the bill came, the girl said we would split it evenly, which wasn’t fair to me because I don’t drink alcohol, and they all ordered multiple drinks. There were eleven girls and I didn’t want to be the only one who didn’t want to split the bill. So, I ended up having to pay sixty-five dollars for my thirteen-dollar meal.

Then, we went to a nightclub. When we got out around two in the morning, my ears were ringing so much I couldn’t sleep that night. Despite not sleeping, I got up early Saturday because we were going to an escape room at noon. I made entire house breakfast so the girls could eat quickly and we could make it on time. But, they overslept and we missed it. Then we got brunch and the ride over was a nightmare. I should mention I was appointed designated driver. Half the girls took an Uber since my car only seats five people and the other half went with me, including Melissa. It was storming and the streets were flooded. I’m talking water up to my thighs. I didn’t think my old car would make it.

The girls could see what kind of car I drive but decided to complain about how they can’t file their taxes jointly with their husbands because their combined income would be over four hundred thousand dollars all while I referred them. Not only was splitting the bill unfair to me because I don’t drink, but since I was driving everyone around, I was the only one paying for gas and parking fees. They insisted on splitting the brunch bill, too. So, I had to pay forty-five dollars for my fifteen-dollar lunch. After the rain stopped, we went to the boardwalk to do a scavenger hunt. Melissa chose the teams and she didn’t even put me on her team. I’m maid of honor and yet she didn’t want to spend that extra time with her best friend.



Then the girls wanted to get drinks on the boardwalk where I was again excluded from conversation. I was the only quirky girl amongst sorority types. We were scheduled for a boat cruise with an arrival time of five thirty in the afternoon. So as it started nearing five, I said we should get going, but the girls wanted to finish their drinks and we had to scramble to get out of there. Again, half the girls took an Uber and the other half went with me, but we couldn’t find my car. Melissa started flipping out about missing the cruise. So, the girls took an Uber and ditched me in the parking garage. At this point, I broke down and started sobbing. I drove back to the Airbnb, four hundred fifty dollars per person, and packed up my stuff. I left around nine at night and drove through the night. No one texted me to see if I made it home. Melissa hasn’t talked to me since. I guess she’s mad at me for leaving. Am I the a-hole for leaving? Did I overreact?

Am I the a-hole for refusing to apologize to my boyfriend’s vegan daughter for forcing her to eat shawarma? My boyfriend, forty-two, father of Megan, sixteen, and I, thirty-seven, widow with twins ten, have been together for two years now. He is awesome. We don’t live together, but we see each other a lot. My girls love him, and we’ve quickly become one family. However, Megan and I have a bit of tension between us, but we’re working on it. Last week, I arranged a backyard cookout with family and friends. I invited my boyfriend and Megan. He accepted the invitation, but Megan was like, “A cookout? Not sure. Meat and whatnot.” She’s one hundred percent vegan and goes by the nickname Megan the vegan.

Anyway, she said she wasn’t coming and I said, “No problem.” It got busy with guests. The main dish was grilled chicken shawarma. To my surprise, Megan showed up with my boyfriend and went straight to sit with her phone watching YouTube. He asked my boyfriend why he didn’t give me the heads up and said he called, but clearly my phone was inside the entire time. Everyone grabbed their plates and I started serving them shawarma one by one. Then Megan showed up in front of me extending her empty plate for me to fill. I felt confused at first. I asked if she was going to have shawarma like the others and she said, “Ew, no,” and proceeded to say she expected me to have something vegan to grill.

I was like, “I’m sorry, what’s that?” She made a face and went on a long detailed explanation about vegan grill recipes I could have made to include her in the gathering. I said I didn’t even know she was coming, let alone know that she wanted a specific vegan grill recipe. I said shawarma was all I had and directed her towards salad and appetizers to choose from. But she pitched a hissy fit about how I made zero effort to include her in the party. Even worse, I was basically forcing her to eat shawarma, but not preparing a vegan recipe for her knowing she’s vegan and can’t eat meat. I argued that this wasn’t true and that it wasn’t my fault she decided to show last minute and at least could have brought something to eat.

She said, “Daddy called you like a hundred times already, and you probably purposely avoided answering since you probably had nothing prepared for me and didn’t even want me to come in the first place.” She put the plate down and sat watching us eat saying I excluded her from even sitting at the table with us even though she herself said she didn’t want to sit and watch us eat meat. It was not a cool mood. One hundred percent ruined. She refused to speak to me or say goodbye before leaving. Just kept claiming I made her go hungry at my home and disrespected her lifestyle by directly forcing meat on her. My boyfriend said it was just miscommunication, but I stated I’m not required to cook for her. She wanted me to apologize for the poor experience, but I refused.

Am I the a-hole for telling my husband’s sister it should be him she holds accountable and not me? This is going to sound kind of crazy, but here goes. I, forty female, had a son last year, and I spent the whole time not knowing I was pregnant. My husband and I have tried to have a baby for six years to no avail. I was diagnosed with endo and PCOS, which we were told would make it incredibly difficult. We tried fertility medication and it didn’t help. After six years, we were just too broken by it all that we took a break and then decided we just needed to focus on being child-free and happy. It was tough and for years I was so unhappy, but I longed to have a baby of my own and knew it wouldn’t be fair to adopt when I was so hung up on that connection.

It was June of last year when my son was born. A week before I started getting terrible back pains followed by cramping and vomiting. My husband brought me to the hospital on the advice of our doctor and that’s when we were told I was giving birth. My stomach was flat but I had no cravings, felt no movement. I ended up needing a C-section because where he was made it difficult for him to come out without harm to both of us. We were in shock. But considering my son was healthy and I recovered well within the first week, we got lucky. Everyone was stunned. Family, friends, us most of all.

Anyway, now on to the point. Everyone was just so happy for us and seemed to celebrate the fact we had our own surprise baby. But a couple of weeks ago at my husband’s parents house, my husband’s sister straight up said she believed I knew and didn’t tell her. But how pissed she was at me for keeping it to myself. My husband told her she was being ridiculous. She told me I owed it to her to tell her she was becoming an aunt. Then I asked her why she was blaming me instead of my husband. She said that I didn’t tell him either. I told her I would have told my husband had I known. And if she honestly believes I knew all along, then he would have known too, and she should direct her anger and accountability at him because I didn’t owe it to her to tell her. He would be the one to owe her that in a sense.

She is claiming I made it sound like she’s nothing, but she’s only my in-law. She is his sister is the way I look at it. So, it should be more on him than me for playing this weird blame game she wants to play. Am I the a-hole?