They vanished like a snowball—my husband threw them away.

This all happened last summer, on a Friday. My wife was at work, and I took our daughter to the local market for some shopping.

After we’d done our shopping, we headed home.

Once we were back, we set about our usual chores our daughter was tidying up while I got started with cooking.

Suddenly, there was a screech of tyres outside. Some of our distant relatives had arrived my cousin Rachel, her husband David, and their fifteen-year-old daughter, Abigail.

I invited them in and hurriedly laid the table. Curious, I asked what had brought them round. Turns out, yesterday was my cousin Rachels birthday and theyd decided to pay us a visit.

Naturally, I wasnt prepared for guests at all. While they sipped their tea, I called my wife to explain the situation. She suggested we make kebabs, remembering that we had some pork in the freezer just right for it.

I went back to the lounge and explained that wed not been expecting visitors, but we could prepare kebabs if they didnt mind waiting an hour or two, just in time for my wife to get home from work.

They nodded in agreement, settled on the sofa, switched on the telly, and started watching.

I wont lie, I was a bit taken aback. I asked David if he could give me a hand with cutting up the meat, but he replied his arm was hurting, while Rachel muttered that she felt unwell after their journey, turned away, and kept watching TV.

In silence, I went off to chop and marinate the meat by myself. In the end, it was just our daughter and I who did everything cooked, set the table, and not once did anyone offer the slightest bit of help.

When my wife arrived, I calmly told her what had happened. She was astonished, said my relatives were incredibly rude, and called everyone to the table.

During dinner, the atmosphere was painfully awkward; not a word was spoken. David snatched up three skewers straight away, tucking in greedily. My wife shot them a look, and I could see she was not pleased.

After wed eaten, I asked if anyone fancied helping with the washing up, hoping their consciences might kick in. Not a chance Rachel declared shed just had her nails done and her daughter couldnt possibly do the dishes.

To top it all off, they announced that it was too late to leave, so theyd be staying with us, and wanted to sleep in our bed because Davids got a bad back and needs a firm mattress.

At that, my wife couldnt take it anymore and started shouting:

Do you think this is a hotel, and were the staff? Pack your things and leave now!

My jaw dropped. I hurried to calm her down, but my relatives took one look, bolted out of the house, jumped in their car and sped off.