When We Returned from Vacation, My Brother Had Taken Over Our Home—and It Was Time to Set Things Right

Coming home after a long-awaited vacation, I was expecting peace, quiet, and maybe a nice bottle of wine with my wife, Nina, to ease back into the daily grind. Instead, I opened the door to a scene straight out of a nightmare. Our pristine living room was in shambles—beer cans scattered everywhere, dirty clothes thrown in piles, and a stench that hit like a brick wall.

And there, sprawled out on our couch like a king on his throne, was my older brother, Ted.

“Ted, what on earth are you doing here? Why is my house such a mess?” I demanded, barely holding back my rising anger.

Nina’s sharp intake of breath and the way she crossed her arms said everything I needed to know—this was not going to end well unless I handled it immediately.

Ted glanced at me lazily, like he hadn’t just been caught red-handed. “Oh, hey, Jeremy. Mom and Dad thought it’d be easier if I moved in while you were gone. You’ve got all this space, and you’re barely here. Figured I’d help myself.”