When I agreed to fix my sister-in-law’s storm-damaged house, I thought I was just helping out family. I didn’t expect to be left nearly 20 grand in the hole or to watch karma catch up with her in the most unexpected way. I’m a 35-year-old dad from Michigan.
My wife Sarah and I have two kids, ages six and three. I recently took a risk and started my own contracting business. Little did I know that my sister-in-law (SIL) would take advantage of my services and then refuse to pay me.
My job was honest work, decent hours, and something I could eventually hand off to my boys one day; that was the dream. But I won’t lie, starting has been brutal, and not all they make it out to be. Things are really tight.
I’ve been juggling credit cards, bills, material costs, and crew payroll, all while undercharging just to stay competitive. My family has been living modestly—not to save money, but because there just wasn’t enough to go around. I’m not ashamed to say that I’ve even skipped meals to pay my workers on time, because part of being a good person and boss is ensuring your employees are taken care of.
For weeks, my oldest child needed new sneakers, and we put it off until a few invoices were paid. That’s the reality. Enter my SIL, Tanya, my wife’s sister.
Let’s just say she believes in… different things. If you’ve ever met someone who somehow always needed help but never had a cent to offer, you know the type. Compared to Sarah and me, Tanya is single, has no kids, and no mortgage.
She’s one of those lucky people who inherit things. Her late grandmother gave her a two-bedroom house years ago. She constantly posted on Facebook about how “some people forget who was there for them” right after showing off about eating the latest trendy sandwich, while a homeless person starved in the background of her shot.
She’s one of those people who always play victim, or post vaguely about how “some people should learn loyalty” while wearing a brand-new outfit and sipping a $7 coffee. You’ll understand the irony of this post as we go along. So when a spring hailstorm shredded a bunch of houses in our neighborhood, Tanya was the first one to call.
“My roof is leaking! I’m seriously about to have a panic attack! The garage door won’t close, and my siding looks like a raccoon went full psycho on it!
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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