The Miss Rebecca Saga continues.
I was so mad at her yesterday and I still am. Scratch that, now I’m actually livid over the situation. I had been giving her the benefit of the doubt for months mainly because I don’t want to believe the worst about my own daughter. I’d rather think I was crazy but I wasn’t. I’m not.
After I got home yesterday I was speaking with Miss Nicole and discovered a whole plethora of things Miss Rebecca has stolen from me and hocked over the years. One of which really pissed me off! Because she had to go through a good bit of digging and realize these certain items were something when she came across them. Anyone would else would have just looked at them and said something like; Gee, those are weird old records. My heart broke. I hung up with Miss Nicole and went to confront Miss Rebecca who opened her door, looked me directly in the eye, and proudly announced; Whatever your daughter said I stole, I did it. I took it and more!
Well, at least it was a confession, I guess.
I stood there dumbfounded and she proceeded to tell me; I have tenant’s rights! You can’t just throw me out of here!
Ok, wait, you’re going to admit that you steal from me constantly and then you’re going to assert that you have some type of a ‘right’ to keep staying in my house rent-free AND ripping me off? Those words just sort of echoed in my head for a moment ‘tenant’s rights’. I knew she’d been talking to someone trying to weasel her way out of this and I knew the whole moving out thing had been nothing but a lie. Although she supposedly has two jobs, she never bothered to line up an apartment, that didn’t ‘fall through’ yesterday it never existed to begin with. That’s why she blew me off when I twice suggested she go back to that landlord and get her money back if she wasn’t going to be moving in to that apartment. I told her she didn’t have any rights, I wanted her out, she had a lot of balls to steal from me repeatedly! Then tell me she had some friggin’ right to stay and keep doing it!
She hit me! She shoved me to the ground! She slammed the bedroom door in my face!
I was stunned.
Just as I was going to get to my feet I felt my body being lifted, it was almost as thought God Himself reached down to pick me up but it wasn’t God it was hubby. He kicked that door open and told her to get the fuck out she wasn’t welcome in our home anymore. She stormed off yakking on her cellphone to someone telling them she was coming over. Hubby came home just in time and he came home with a nifty little gifty; a new lock. He switched out the lock on the door she normally uses lickety-split and threw all of her shit onto the front porch. It was raining. He was kind enough to cover it with a plastic tarp.
I sent her a text telling her stuff was outside and she should come get it ASAP.
She told me to keep it.
I left it on the porch. I reminded her that she was not a ‘tenant’ she was ‘guest’ in MY home, she’d been allowed to live there only by my good graces. Those graces just ran out.
Tenants have ‘rights’ that’s true. They also have responsibilities like paying rent on time (she never paid a dime in fact she was always asking for money when she wasn’t stealing it and other things), they keep their space clean (her room was a pig sty), they do not lie to the landlord and they certainly do not steal from the landlord.
Hubby and I got up today and discussed the situation he told me not to be surprised if she came back with the cops and they tried to make me take her back. She can show up with the entire New London Police Department but unless she also shows up with a Court Order there’s no way in Hell I’m letting her back into the house. I’ll stand there and ask to see her lease, her rental agreement, her rent receipts, any ID at all of hers that has my address on it, even a piece of mail. She’s got none of those things and that makes her a guest not a tenant. Guests have no rights when they have worn out their welcome.
If anyone should have called the cops it was me last night after she assaulted me and confessed to her thievery. I really should have called them but I try to be a good mom, don’t always make it but I try, what good mom wants to have their offspring arrested? Not that it stopped her from having me arrested a few months back. I may have been drunk at the time but I told her nothing but the absolute truth and several months later everything I said came to fruition. Kids think they’re smart but they never outsmart their parents not for long anyway. Parents turn a blind eye from time to time but that doesn’t mean we’re ignorant of what’s going on around us.
What’s going on with her happens to involve a mirror, a straw, and a razor blade. I have found these items covered with white powder in her room several times and so has her father. She has been told several times by both of us that does not fly in our house. If she chooses to be a Coke Head, that’s on her. Months ago my friends tried to tell me she was a drug addict and I didn’t want to hear it. I knew they were right! But I just hoped they were wrong. They weren’t.
I’m so disgusted right now with her and with myself. I never should have kept giving her so many chances to prove me wrong when all she ever did was prove me right. It’s sad and disheartening. It’s not like we gave her 3 days to move out either, Hubby and I gave her 3 months to get her shit together and move out and in the 11th hour it’s; Sorry, Charlie, U stuck with me.
I don’t think so.
We didn’t even harass her about it. I think I asked her three or four times over three months how the Big Move was coming along. When she fucked up the car I asked her about it that’s when she told me she’d found an apartment on West Coit St. It was ‘what she could afford’. I knew by the tone of her voice I was supposed to feel sorry for her that she had to move to that shitty part of town but I didn’t. She could have looked into apartment sharing and boarding houses in better parts of town but she didn’t. She could have at least tried to get a Section 8 voucher or into low income housing. But she didn’t. That’s on her. It’s not on me. It’s not on hubby. She’s never felt any remorse about what happened to the car and she’s never offered to pay a single penny toward the repairs. But she could definitely ask to take it again and again and again. I let her because she was supposedly going to work and you have to a way to get to work and back so you can pay the bills or at least save up to move out of your parents’ house at age 26. That is on me, I shouldn’t have let her keep taking the car, coming home late, and lying about where she’d been. No chambermaid finishes their shift at 6 o’clock at night in a hotel that doesn’t have night service. I let her walk on me, I let her lie to me, I let her steal from me, and I let her treat me like dog shit on the bottom of her shoe.
But I’m not doing that anymore.
I love her and I want nothing but the best for her just as I do Miss Nicole. But Miss Rebecca has to want it for herself. She has to grow up and stop expecting other people are going to take care of her while she goes off and parties. Not happening anymore.
It’s a tough Wake Up Call but it was a long time coming.
She’s going to have to find her own way in this world. The Free Ride is over.
I’ll deal with the cops if she’s stupid enough to call them. We’ll change the other lock tonight. That’s it. She’s on her own. I hope she flies and soars high but, again, that won’t happen until she wants it for herself. I’m sure it’ll take a while, maybe a long while, but I have faith that eventually she’ll get her shit together and become a decent person. That makes me an idiot, doesn’t it? Sure it does and so does this; I’ll help her out with money here and there when I have it to give just like I do with Miss Nicole but Miss Rebecca is going to have to do the rest on her own. Once she doesn’t have a way to get back into the house, once reality really smacks her in the face, maybe she’ll straighten up. Hell, maybe one day she’ll even feel some true remorse and apologize for all of the lies and the stealing. Maybe Hell will freeze over one day too so I’m not going to hold my breath for that one but I will hold hope for it.
Good luck, Becca. You’re going to need it.