When my kids were in school, it seemed that there was always someone staying at our house because they weren't wanted or taken care of at home. I saw it as my chance to let them know that life could and should be better and that someone did care about them. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. One came back later and told me that he had loved staying at our house because I made him take a shower, gave him clean cloths to wear, and told him to eat his veggies! And then there was one poor, sad young man (17) who committed suicide because neither parent wanted him and he was told that constantly. It still makes me angry that they threw away the wonderful gift that this boy was. Of course, at his funeral, they cried buckets and swore they didn't know he had a problem. I wanted to slap them both. It really didn't interfere with my life, cause they all knew that the rules for my kids applied to them. If I was needed to raise my small grandchildren I wouldn't hesitate for a second and DH would feel the same. It would be harder on us now that it was when we were younger, but we would deal with it.