When baby Aira was born, her parents knew she was somewhat special. With her blonde hair and big blue eyes, Aira looked stunningly beautiful and many agreed that she resembled a doll.
Although she was still just a baby, her parents decided she should be part of commercials, so they took her to a number of modelling agencies, many of which were interested to work with her.
Almost overnight, photos of Aira flooded social media and people were convinced she wasn’t real but a photoshopped photo of a cute-looking toddler. But Aira was real, and she was dubbed one of the most beautiful girls in the world.
Sadly, her engagements with modelling robbed her of her childhood and everything kids her age did. She didn’t attend kindergarten and was in front of a camera most of the time.
However, as she reached five years of age, modelling agencies were no longer interested in her as she started resembling any child out there. She wasn’t invited to photoshoots and fashion shows.
These days, Aira is nine years old, and she still gets modelling gigs, but it is very rare.
She is active on social media, but there are no photos of her from her early days when she was dubbed doll-girl.
The Saga of My Husband, My Mom, and Rent: A Family Drama
Oh, the pleasures of family dynamics; those complex networks of affection, animosity, and, it seems, rent. What if I told you a small story from the front lines of my own soap opera to start things off?
Imagine this: Dad recently passed away and went to the great beyond, leaving Mom sad and alone. So, of course, I propose that she move in with us, partly out of compassion and partly out of sheer guilt. You know, to socialize with the grandchildren and take in the warmth of family.
Now enter my spouse, who has obviously been attending the “How to Be a Loving Family Man” course. His initial response was a firm no, but after some deft haggling on my part, he reluctantly agreed—but only under one condition. The worst part, get ready: my distraught mother would have to pay the rent.
You did really read correctly. Pay rent. in a home that we currently own and are not renting. Start the crying or laughing. His logic? He replied, grinning in a way that I can only characterize as evil, “Your mother is a leech.” “After she moves in with us, she won’t go.”
His reasoning continued, a train on the loose about to crash down a precipice. She simply doesn’t make sense to utilize anything for free when she will consume our food and electricity. This residence is not a hotel, and she has to know that!
With my blood boiling, I knew something was wrong. The reason for this issue is that I wedded a man who seemed to believe he was the Ritz-Carlton’s management. How daring! Here we are, with equal rights to the house, having both contributed to its acquisition, and he’s enacting capitalist regulations as if we were operating a profit-making Airbnb.
The worst part is that my spouse isn’t a horrible person. Really, no. He and my mother have simply disagreed from the beginning. He told me the truth about how he really felt the night he turned into Mr. Rent Collector. “Ever since I met her, your mother has detested me. She wouldn’t feel at ease living with me right now.
I am therefore torn between my mother, who is in great need of her daughter’s support, and my husband, whom I really love despite his imperfections. I ask you, dear reader, the million-dollar question: What should I do? In true dramatic manner. Shall I rent my mother a room or my husband’s empathy?
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