Fine.The next morning, she woke up to a menu on her nightstand offering three breakfast choices—cereal, toast, or “Chef’s Surprise.” At night, the Wi-Fi mysteriously shut off at 11 p.m., and laminated “Housekeeping in Progress” signs began appearing wherever I cleaned up after her messes. By midweek, I stopped cooking dinner and left a stack of takeout menus in her room instead.The final touch?
An itemized bill on Sunday morning for laundry, cleaning, and “coffee service.”She stormed into the kitchen, furious, waving the invoice and demanding an explanation. I just smiled and said, “Guests don’t stay for free.”Jason finally caught on. And Linda? She packed up and left within the week, declaring she “didn’t feel welcome.” Mission accomplished.Now the house is clean, peaceful—and my coffee is all mine.