Real Life. “My Sister Rented Out Her Dad's Garage”: She Decided Not to Tell Me

Every woman's weapon is cunning and pretense.

I've experienced this many times, and life hasn't taught me anything! Unfortunately, our family consists of just such representatives of the fair sex — it's not a family, but a tangle of snakes. And I'm not exaggerating!

I divorced my first wife precisely because she, along with my mother and younger sister, almost drove me to my grave! My sister Alina is a completely different story. After all, parents don't ask their older child for their opinion when they get a younger one, and then it starts: “Seba, stay with your sister! Step down, you're older! Have mercy on her, she's a girl!” And she's not a girl, she's some predator in a skirt.

Alinka is four years younger than me, but since childhood she's been able to manipulate her parents in an adult way and it's always worked out for her good. And my mother has always been on her side unconditionally. My father raised me in the spirit of real men, so he demanded that I submit to women and fulfill their whims. He's been gone for three years now — his big heart couldn't stand all these troubles.

After my father died I had my own worries — with Wanda, my second wife, we finally moved in together and officially registered our marriage. In the meantime, Alinka took her father's car and moved back to her mother from the rented apartment.

I thought I shouldn't be the one dealing with the inheritance and simply asked my mother not to sell anything or make any decisions without my consent. So my sister drives my father's car – it's no big deal. The car is almost fifteen years old and can't be sold for much. This year my Wanda got behind the wheel.

We saved up some money and bought her a small Korean car on credit. Two cars in the house means two sets of tires and a lot of car accessories. So it was time for me to use our family garage – just like my sister, I had the right to it.

I had keys: after my father's illness, I had to go to the garage often and I didn't have to ask my mother or sister for permission. On my day off, I loaded all the things into the car and drove to my father's garage. The first thing that pleasantly surprised me was that the gate was painted with fresh paint. “Good job, sister!” I even mentally praised Alina. But that was the end of my joyful discoveries.

I found out that my sister had changed the lock to a more expensive and reliable one, and didn't say a word about it! What's so valuable there? Standing like an idiot in the middle of the square with an unnecessary bunch of keys, I dialed my sister's number: “Alina, hello! I'm standing in front of the garage and I can't get in. Why did you change the locks? And you didn't tell me anything?

– What did you want in the garage? Why did you just barge in without warning? – my sister replied in a rather rude tone.

– I don't have to warn you. I have to put on summer tires – I replied.

– Of course, you guessed that you'd buy a few cars for the family, but you didn't think of anything else? Let your Wandzia keep the tires on the balcony. I rented a garage — Alina continued.

-What? Who allowed you? Why didn't you consult me?

We had a terrible fight, but I'm alone in all this. My mother indulges this rude and manipulative woman in everything, so I wouldn't be surprised if one day she transferred the garage and apartment to my sister. I have to intervene in this process and settle all legal relations. I shouldn't have allowed it!

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