Ah, the dynamics of a blended family. It’s like mixing oil and water, and then adding a dash of vinegar just for kicks. Blending households can test patience, love, and every iota of personal space one has. One gentleman found this out the hard way and felt compelled to share his drastic measures on Reddit. Buckle up, folks, this is quite the ride.

He took to Reddit to explain what happened.

Picture this: My wife passed away in November 2022, leaving me with three adult stepchildren. And these kids, aged 21, 22, and 25, have made it clear—like, neon-sign-on-Broadway clear—that I’m not their parent. Despite being in their lives for over a decade, they’ve embraced the ‘not my dad’ mantra with Olympic conviction while their biological father is enjoying his retirement in the Philippines.

Living in a city where the cost of living is about as high as a giraffe’s eyelashes, my late wife and I had been helping these kids. The youngest is still in school, while the older two have jobs but with ‘adulting’ skills that probably rank somewhere near a D-minus. After their mother passed, the household chores apparently went on an indefinite vacation. The rent was zero dollars and zero cents, so they could save money, but the responsibilities? Went out the window. Literally.

Your humble narrator here took on pretty much all the bills: power, water, Internet, all the usual suspects. Even food for the youngest one. But after their mother’s departure, the stepchildren stopped lifting a finger. It’s like watching a tragic sitcom where no one learns their lesson by the end of the episode. As a result, I had to hire a cleaning lady. The absurdity, folks, the absurdity.

So, here’s the plot twist: I put the house up for sale. Cue the gasps! The property market being what it is, the price shot up since I bought it, making an early retirement in the Philippines more than just a tempting thought. And what do you know? The house sold faster than concert tickets to a rock show.

I’m headed to my cabin! Each of the kids got $10,000, and I gave them the news: the house was no longer ours. They must have seen the for-sale sign and attended the open houses—unless they were practicing selective vision. The reaction was swift: they acted like they were thrown out of their long-time home. Granted, maybe they grew up there a bit, but they treated it more like a hostel with free room service.

Here’s a kicker: I think their mom would be rolling in her grave, absolutely disgusted by their behavior. But guess what? They pooled their funds and secured an apartment. If they only rely on the $10k I handed them like an unwanted party favor, they’ll be scraping by in a year, tops.

So there it is: Am I the Asshole? You tell me.