For five years, Noah and Lily had given up their guest room, turning it into a storage space for her parents’ belongings. But when they found out they were expecting a baby, they asked her parents to finally move their stuff, which caused unexpected tension — and a surprising reward.
Five years ago, my in-laws decided to downsize their home. They wanted a smaller, cozier place for just the two of them.
“We have way too much space and way too much junk,” my father-in-law, Peter, said.
So, of course, they asked if they could keep some of their extra stuff at our place for a while.
“It’s just a few things we really want to keep, sweetheart,” Peter told my wife, Lily.
We didn’t mind at all. We had a guest room that was basically just sitting there.
“Of course, Dad,” Lily said. “You can use the guest room for now.”
The important part here is “for now.”
But guess what? They never came to pick up their things. Instead, they just kept bringing more.
For a while, Lily and I used to joke about how the guest room had become a warehouse in our own house. The bed was pushed into a corner, and the entire room was stuffed with boxes and random old furniture.
“Where should we put the new vacuum cleaner?” Lily asked me one day after we bought it.
“Just toss it into the warehouse,” I said, making her burst out laughing.
But then, something surprising happened.
“I’m pregnant, Noah!” Lily yelled, running into our bedroom holding a pregnancy test.
We had talked about having kids for a while, but we also wanted to travel more and enjoy life first. So this was a surprise — but a happy one.
That night, Lily and I sat together talking about everything — baby names, colors for the nursery — when it hit us.
“The warehouse has to go,” Lily said, suddenly sitting up. “We need that room for the baby. We have to tell them, Noah. I’m not going to let us keep living around their clutter just because my parents are hoarders.”
“Alright, I agree,” I said calmly.
Lily was already starting to stress herself out.
“We’re seeing them on Sunday for brunch. We can tell them about the baby and the room then,” I suggested.
Lily nodded, smiling. “I just need us to come first this time,” she said.
The next morning, Lily sat at the table with her laptop, already planning the nursery in detail.
“I know it’s way too early, Noah,” she said shyly, sipping her tea. “But I’m just so excited. I need to do something with this energy.”
Then came the Sunday brunch. I wasn’t exactly sure how her parents would react since they seemed pretty happy to leave their stuff with us forever.
“We’re having a baby!” Lily blurted out as soon as we sat down at the café.
My in-laws jumped up, hugging and kissing us, congratulating us again and again. Once they finally settled down, I decided it was time to bring up the other topic.
“Mom, Dad,” I started, calling them as they liked. “We need you to move your things out of the guest room soon. We’re turning it into a nursery for the baby.”
“Oh, of course,” my mother-in-law, Susan, said with a quick wave of her hand. “We’ll get to it soon.”
Then she went back to looking at the menu, like we hadn’t said anything important at all.
Weeks passed, and “soon” turned out to mean “never.”
Lily and I started feeling even more anxious because, besides waiting for our baby, fixing up the nursery was the only real thing we could do to prepare.
But her parents just kept ignoring it.
Finally, I had to step up.
“Go ahead,” Lily said. “Tell them to clear it out.”
The next day, I went to their house to pick up some soup for Lily and also to put my foot down.
“We need everything out by the end of this month,” I told them firmly. “We have a lot to do before the baby arrives, and I don’t want Lily stressed out. No exceptions.”
My mother-in-law nodded slowly.
“Alright, Noah,” she said. “We’ll handle it.”
Finally, Susan came over and started going through her boxes. As she rummaged around, she suddenly screamed.
“Oh my goodness! Look at this!” she shouted, pulling out a fur coat full of moth holes.
“Really? Noah! Lily! I can’t believe it! You ruined my favorite vintage coat! Your dirty house destroyed it!”
I was stunned. Not only did she not thank us for keeping her stuff, but now she blamed us for the damage.
“Are you serious right now?” I snapped. “You left it here for five years, and now it’s somehow my fault?”
“Yes, it is!” she yelled. “This coat was special!”
I tried to stay calm.
“You’re overreacting, Susan,” I said. “If it meant so much to you, you should’ve taken better care of it instead of leaving it in a box for years.”
The fight got worse, and she stormed out, fuming. Lily stood there, shocked and stuck between her mom and me.
Then, things got even weirder.
The next day, I got an email with a bill for $695.
“What’s this for?” Lily asked me.
“It’s not me,” I said. “It’s your mom. She’s charging us for a new fur coat.”
“It’s summer, Noah,” she said. “She’s being ridiculous.”
“If she wants to play games, fine,” I thought. “I’ll play too.”
I went online and checked the price of a storage unit the same size as our guest room.
It was $150 a month. Over five years, that totaled $9,000.
So, I made an invoice in Susan’s name.
Here’s the bill for five years of storage at our house. Thanks for paying quickly. The money will go to your grandchild’s nursery.
— Your son-in-law.
A week passed, and there was no answer.
Then one night, while Lily and I were having dinner, the doorbell rang. It was Peter.
“I’m here to get the rest of the stuff,” he said, avoiding eye contact.
He and Lily packed up all the remaining boxes and old furniture, and by the end of the evening, the room was finally empty.
“It’s about time,” Lily said, letting out a long sigh. “I’m so happy it’s gone.”
Lily and I spent the next few weeks painting and decorating, turning that messy room into a warm, welcoming nursery. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off our shoulders.
But just when I thought the drama was over, something else popped up.
“Did you see that Susan is trying to sell that moth-eaten coat online as a ‘rare vintage piece’?” Lily said one night, scrolling through her phone.
Lily only called her mom by her first name when she was annoyed.
“She’s asking for $1,200!” Lily said, eyes wide.
I couldn’t stop laughing.
“She’s unreal,” Lily said. “First, she blames us, then buys a new coat, and now this?”
“Or maybe she’s just lost it completely,” I replied. “Either way, I’m done with this.”
One afternoon, I got a call from Peter.
“I’m really sorry about everything,” he said softly. “I know about Susan trying to make you pay. I want to fix this. Can we meet?”
We met at our usual coffee shop, and Peter handed me an envelope. Inside was a check for $9,000.
“Consider this payment for the storage,” he said, looking really sorry. “I know Susan would never agree, but this is the least I can do.”
Later that night, Lily and I had tacos — all thanks to Peter.
