When I returned home from the hospital with my newborn, I noticed a note on the kitchen table and assumed it was a heartfelt message from my mother-in-law. Instead, it turned out to be a $600 invoice for taking care of our dog, Rich, while I was in labor. My husband promised to deal with it, but I had a different plan in mind.A few days before my due date, I was sprawled on the couch, battling a dull ache in my back that was intensifying. Rich, my golden retriever, lay beside me, resting his head on my lap as if he sensed my discomfort.
I absentmindedly scratched his ears while calling out to my husband, Jake, who was in the kitchen making a sandwich.“Jake, we need to figure out what to do with Rich while we’re at the hospital,” I said. He walked over with his sandwich, kissed my forehead, and casually reassured me, “Don’t stress. Mom loves Rich. She’ll take care of him.” While I appreciated his easygoing nature, it could also drive me crazy in moments like this.
Later that night, Jake called his mom, Abigail, to ask if she could watch Rich. She agreed immediately, saying she was happy to help. Problem solved—or so I thought.The next morning, with our bags packed, we said goodbye to Rich at Abigail’s house.
She smiled and waved us off, saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll take great care of him. Go have my grandchild!” Despite her kindness, I sensed she wasn’t thrilled about not being allowed at the hospital, but I appreciated her willingness to help.
At the hospital, things moved faster than expected, and my water broke just as we arrived. Labor was nothing short of brutal—hours of gripping the bed rails, enduring contractions, and watching Jake try (and fail) to appear calm left me utterly drained. But when they placed my son in my arms, every ounce of pain vanished. Jake and I cried like fools, marveling at the tiny, perfect person we had brought into the world.Three days later, we were discharged. Jake called Abigail to thank her and let her know we were on our way home.
She graciously said she’d give us a few days to settle in before visiting the baby. I appreciated her thoughtfulness and was excited to reunite Rich with his new little brother.As I walked into the kitchen, I noticed a folded note on the table. My heart warmed, thinking Abigail had left us a sweet welcome-home message. But when I opened it, I was shocked to read: “You owe me $600 for feeding and walking Rich. My time costs money. You have my bank details.”
At first, I thought I must have misread it. But no, she was serious. My mother-in-law had billed us for watching our dog—without any prior mention. I called Jake into the kitchen, waving the note in disbelief. He groaned and said he’d talk to her, but I stopped him. “No, I’ll handle this,” I said, an idea already forming in my mind.A week later, Abigail came to visit the baby.
She cooed over her grandson, but as soon as she handed him back to me, she got straight to the point. “So, when can I expect my money?” she asked with an overly sweet smile. I smiled back. “Of course, Abigail. I’ll pay you—on one condition.”I walked over to the desk, pulled out a folder, and slid it across the table. “Since you’re charging us for services, it’s only fair we do the same,” I explained. The folder contained a detailed invoice of every favor Jake and I had done for her over the years: moving her house ($800), covering her car repair ($1,200), and babysitting her neighbor’s kids ($600).
Her face turned pale as she scanned the document. “This is ridiculous!” she sputtered. “You can’t charge family for things like this!” I raised an eyebrow. “Exactly. Family doesn’t charge family. At least, that’s what I thought.”She tried to argue but eventually stormed out, red-faced and furious. Jake, who had been quietly observing, wrapped me in a hug and chuckled, “
No one should mess with my wife.” I laughed, sinking onto the couch with the baby while Rich curled up at my feet.I knew Abigail might not have learned her lesson, but one thing was clear—she wouldn’t be seeing that $600 anytime soon. And if she dared to bring it up again, well, I still had the folder. Let her try me.
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