From the Desk of Stella Goldberg

Dear Stella is an advice column written by Stella Goldberg – mother, wife, and all around dispenser of wisdom. You may send your questions to her at 1445 Jupiter Street, Queens, NY 10045.

Dear Stella,

My sister called me yesterday to tell me she had been fired from her job. Her first request was to move in with me. Stella, I live in a small house with my husband, 2 dogs and a cat. I’m not sure I could handle 3 dogs, 3 people, and 1 cat. Plus, my sister has a history of moving in with people “until she gets on her feet” only to stay for over a year. What should I do?

Suddenly Stuck with a Sister

Dear Stuck,
What is wrong with kids these days? When I was younger, you lived in your parents’ house until you got married. Then you moved out. And you stayed out. None of this bouncing back business. You made sure you had a good job, or you married someone with a good job (like a doctor or lawyer) so you wouldn’t have to move back home. Kids today no nothing of this. Now they’re all moving back home or moving in with whoever will put a roof over their head. And are they grateful? No! Of course not. All they do is complain about how you don’t like the fact that they’re dating Mexicans. I’m, of course, speaking of my daughter Frannie. When she went away to college, I thought I had finally let all my little birdies fly free. I converted her room to an exercise room. It was fabulous. There was a little treadmill, this little rowing machine, a little television, and a life sized poster of Barbara Streisand. I was going to use it every day to get rid of a few of those cherry cheese blintzes that had found their way to my hips through the years. I even hoped that maybe Morty would use it to get rid of the gut he had gained himself. Then I figured eventually we’d sell the house, get a nice little condo down on Boca, and live out our golden years together.

What happened? Liberal arts degrees, that’s what happened. While my son, Jared, studied hard and became a doctor, Frannie decided to get a general liberal arts degree. I have to admit, I didn’t push her like I should. You don’t have to be an Einstein to marry a nice doctor, you just have to show a little bosoms. So I guess I let it slide. Fast forward 4 years, no nice doctor friends, she’s dating some Mexican or something, and she’s moved back into my place. So Morty and I had to move all the exercise stuff into his den, I had to put my poster of Barbara back in the safe deposit box, and she comes back home hanging up beaded curtains and posters about freeing whales or saving Tibet or some such business. 2 years now, I can’t get my exercise room and that little place in Boca is looking farther and farther away.

So my point is, I know from unwanted house guests. But I also know what family is about – it’s about taking care of each other even when you don’t want to. Really, you don’t have a choice. You have to take her in because you can’t have your own sister living on the street. That would be embarrassing. I remember when Barry Goldfinkle’s son got involved in that unfortunate meth problem and was on the news after he was arrested for giving oral favors for money in a public bathroom in the park. You’d have liked to never seen Barry’s face again at temple, even on high holy days. I can only thank God his dear wife, Edith, had already passed away so she didn’t have to know the embarrassment her own flesh and blood brought to the family. Oy, that poor Edith is probably rolling over in her grave, God rest her unfortunate soul. So unless you want to see your sister on the 11:00 news being pushed into the back of a police car for something like that, then you suck it up, let her move it, and just picture how you’ll tear down her silly posters and put up your Barbara poster once she’s gone again.