I am a «happy» person, because I have a lot of relatives. This situation exists due to the fact, that my parents (both of them) have many brothers and sisters. My mother had five sisters and one brother. I don’t know, how many brothers and sisters my father has, but I know exactly there are more then five of them all together.

It should be mentioned that my parents are juniors in their families, and all my aunts and uncles are elderly people. But their children (there is a crowd of them) are older than me, but they are in the most active and productive age.

It is a common belief in Russia and in the Ukraine, that all roads lead to Moscow, therefore I am exposed to attacks of herds of my relatives now and then. And I am irritated with these situations. To tell the truth, I love my relatives, but I don’t have conditions for their appropriate accommodation.

Now, my husband and I have our own flat. It is not large. It has only two rooms and there is a repair there. And it is no cosmetic one, it is the capital repair. The big room is occupied by our new doors, furniture, kitchen machines and other things. There is no empty place there. My husband and I live in the small room (it is about 11 m.2) with 2 wardrobes, TV, a big bed and a chest of dawers. There is no empty place either. We have been waiting for the furniture for our kitchen during last 6 months, therefore the kitchen-room is empty. I don’t have an oven and I can’t cook. I can’t host in this situation and I told my mother about it.

But two days ago she called me and said that my cousin-sister Inga with her daughter arrives in Moscow from America and I should arrange accommodation for them, at my place (of course). It should be mentioned, that I am not acquainted with her. I was furious. The courses for it are shown below:

1. I have understood that my mother doesn’t hear me. I think now, that she hears only what she wants.
2. I thought that my cousin-sister was well-off. And I don’t understand why she can’t live in a hotel.
3. I don’t understand why I must lose my comfort (or grow my discomfort in this context) so that the other person could save her money.

I had been discouraged when I had a chat with my uncle (the Inga’s father). He didn’t ask me if I could… or if I want … He simply said that he had understood that I hadn’t had anything against it. And it was said so casually.

My uncle is a doctor and I always thought that he was an intelligent man. Now I don’t think so. I invited him to my place so that he could see my life there.

It is not the first similar situation in my life in Moscow.

About five years ago three aunts and my mother were resting in the Ukraine in the house of my cousin-sister Tania. They had gone there straightly, without changes and with empty bags. But on their way back they changed in Moscow. Therefore they decided to visit me. At that time my boyfriend (he is my husband now) and I were living in a 2-room-flat with a neighbour. Our room was smaller (about 11 m.2). But my relatives didn’t care about it. I should provide their accommodation in Moscow by all means. And I provided. I was obliged to suggest the neighbour spending the night in a hotel (at my expense of course).

Besides, in Moscow the relatives arrived with huge and full bags. Those bags were full of nuts, dried fruits, and a lot of jars of jam. There were very heavy bags. And my well-bred boyfriend was obliged to carry this baggage with his own hands. The baggage was so large that it hardly got into the taxi with my boyfriend. The mad relatives and I went home by the metro.

But it is not a last similar story. I remember one more event. It was three year ago. We lived in the rented one-room-flat. It was 33 m.2. For sitting there was one sofa and two chairs in the kitchen. I have no idea, what my relatives (there were six of them all together) arrived in Moscow for, but I should arrange their accommodation again. It was not weekend and I was obliged to leave my work. Besides, as usual, they couldn’t say definitely, what railway station they arrive at. It was something terrible. At first I was running between Rizhsky and Belorussky railway stations, and then I tried to accommodate and to feed this herd at my tiny place.

But, for my regret, it is far from the end.

To be continued….