My husband thought hiring my mom as our babysitter was a waste of money. He believed she should be “grateful” just to spend time with our kids. But when he fired her to cut costs, I decided to teach him a lesson he wouldn’t forget.
Money has a way of revealing a person’s true character. I learned this the hard way when my husband, Miles, showed me exactly who he was—not through words, but through his actions toward my mother. The day he fired her from babysitting our kids wasn’t just a betrayal to her, it shattered my trust in him.
But sometimes, the best way to teach someone a lesson is to let them walk in the shoes of the person they took for granted. And that’s exactly what I did.
“We need another baby,” Miles said one evening, his excitement barely contained as he helped load the dishwasher. “Just imagine Evie with a little sister or brother. Don’t you want that for her?”
I placed the last plate in the rack, forcing a smile even as unease settled in my stomach. “I’m happy with just Evie. She’s perfect as she is.”
“Come on, Jenny.” He wiped his hands on a dish towel before wrapping his arms around me. “I always dreamed of having a big family. Remember how lonely I was as an only child?” He gently squeezed my hand, his eyes pleading. “I promise I’ll help more. You won’t have to do it alone.”
“You say that now, but —”
“I mean it. Every diaper change, every late-night feeding… I’ll be there. Trust me.”
“Like you were there last night when Evie had a fever?”
His face fell slightly, but he pushed on. “That was different. I had the quarterly report due.”
“There’s always something, Miles.”
“This time will be different,” he insisted, pulling me close. “Whatever happens, we’re in this together. I want us to give Evie the gift of a sibling. Please?”
I wanted to believe him. I really did.
But nine months later, when our second daughter, Amber, was born, I quickly realized those promises were empty. Miles still put work first, leaving me drowning in exhaustion, juggling a newborn and a toddler with little help.
“I have an early meeting,” he would mumble, rolling over in bed as Amber’s cries filled the night.
“The presentation’s tomorrow… I really need to focus,” he’d say, watching me struggle to console a fussy baby while Evie, our toddler, clung to my leg.
“Mommy, up!” Evie would whine, reaching up to me as I tried to juggle breastfeeding and making dinner at the same time.
“Just a minute, sweetie,” I’d reply, guilt gnawing at me as I saw the disappointment in her little face.
My mother, Wendy, saw me struggling. She worked long shifts as a nurse, yet still stopped by after work just to give me a break. Sometimes, she would bring homemade meals, other times, she’d simply hold the baby so I could shower.
“Jennifer, honey, let me help,” she said one afternoon, watching me attempt to soothe Amber while Evie ran circles around the kitchen. “I could take early retirement and watch the girls while you two work.”
“Mom, I can’t ask you to quit your nursing job. You love it.”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” she said gently, lifting Evie into her arms. “Besides, what’s more important than family? And frankly, honey, you look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”
“We’d have to pay you,” I insisted. “It’s only fair.”
“Three thousand a month would work,” she added. “Less than you’d pay for daycare, and I’ll cook and clean too.”
That night, when I brought it up to Miles, his reaction was immediate. “Three thousand? Just to watch her own grandkids?”
“She’s giving up her career for us, Miles.”
“It’s called retirement. People do it all the time, Jenny.”
At first, I brushed off his comments. But as time passed, his attitude soured. He complained more frequently, his resentment simmering just beneath the surface.
“Must be nice getting paid to play with your grandkids all day,” he grumbled when Mom wasn’t looking.
“The house could be cleaner for what we’re paying,” he muttered, even though Mom managed the house, the kids, and even cooked dinner most nights.
Then came the moment that changed everything.
One afternoon, while I was at work, Miles called me. As I was about to hang up, I heard voices in the background. “Remember to hang up the call when you’re done,” I had reminded him earlier.
But that day, he hadn’t, and what I heard next made my stomach drop.
“It’s ridiculous,” his voice was thick with irritation. “Three grand a month for what? She should be grateful we’re letting her spend time with her grandkids.”
I froze. My blood ran cold.
In the background, I could hear my mother softly humming as she fed Amber.
“We appreciate everything you’ve done, Wendy,” Miles said, his voice firm but forced. “But we’ve decided it’s best for you to, uh, move on.”
“Move on?” My mother’s voice trembled slightly.
“It’s just… frankly, it’s not fair to keep paying you when daycare is a more… cost-effective solution.”
The silence that followed felt heavy, almost suffocating. Then, in a soft but steady voice, my mom responded, “If that’s what you both want.”
“It is,” Miles replied quickly.
I heard the sound of a spoon being set down, followed by my mother’s gentle footsteps as she left.
My heart pounded as I ended the call. I tried calling Miles immediately, but he didn’t pick up. My stomach churned. Something told me that by the time I got home, the damage would already be done.
And I was right.
“Where is she?” I demanded, stepping into the house and seeing the empty space where my mom’s bag usually sat. “How could you tell her to leave?”
Miles barely looked up from his laptop. “How did you —”
“You didn’t hang up the phone, Miles. I heard everything.”
His casual tone sent a fresh wave of anger through me. “It’s for the best. She’ll be fine. And we’ll save money.”
“Save money?” I shot back, crossing my arms. “Let’s see how much we save.”
He sighed, rubbing his temples like I was the one being unreasonable.
“I’m fine, Jennifer,” Mom reassured me when I finally got through to her. “Actually, I’ve already found something new.
The Andersons down the street needed a nanny for their twins. They’re paying more than you did, and they seem to actually appreciate what I do.”
But I could hear it in her voice—she was hurt.
Things quickly started to fall apart without my mom around.
Daycare was more expensive than we expected, and we had to rush to pick up the kids before closing time every day. The house was a mess, the meals weren’t ready when we got home, and worst of all, the kids started getting sick constantly.
“Another ear infection?” Miles groaned after I hung up with the pediatrician. “That’s the third one this month!”
“That’s what happens when they’re exposed to so many other kids,” I muttered, bouncing Amber on my hip while Evie whined at my feet.
“Well, one of us has to stay home with them,” he said. “And I have that big client meeting tomorrow.”
“Of course you do,” I sighed, shaking my head.
The breaking point came when Miles forgot to pick up the kids one evening.
“Seventy-five dollars?” he muttered, waving a daycare late fee notice at me. “This is highway robbery!”
I hadn’t seen my mom in weeks. But when I ran into her at the grocery store, she looked… happy. Peaceful.
“The Andersons are wonderful,” she told me with a smile. “They actually thanked me yesterday for making dinner. And they’re paying me $4,300 a month now.”
That night, I casually suggested, “Maybe we should call Mom,”
“Fine,” Miles huffed. “Tell her she can come back. Same pay.”
I smirked. “She’s making $4,300 now, Miles. And they appreciate her.”
His face turned red. “That’s ridiculous! She doesn’t need that much money! We’ll handle this.”
That’s when I knew exactly what needed to happen. He needed to experience what my mom had been handling every single day.
“I have a business trip next week,” I announced over breakfast. “Five days. I’ve already cleared it with your boss… you have the time off to watch the kids.”
“What? But I can’t —”
“Sure you can. It’s just watching kids all day. How hard could it be? After all, it’s a privilege to spend time with your children, right?”
I packed my bags for a well-deserved spa retreat and left Miles with a detailed schedule of the girls’ routines.
“Don’t worry,” I said with a sweet smile. “You’ve got this.”
His texts started flooding in by the second day:
“How do you get Amber to eat her vegetables?”
“Evie won’t stop crying about her pink cup.”
“The washing machine is making weird noises.”
“Please call me back.”
“I haven’t slept in 48 hours.”
“How does your mom do this all day?”
“PLEASE COME BACK… I’M SORRY.”
Instead of responding, I ordered another massage.
When I returned home, the house looked like a war zone. Toys were everywhere, the sink overflowed with dishes, and laundry spilled onto the floor. Miles sat on the couch, looking utterly defeated, with the kids eating dry cereal straight from the box.
“Your mother,” he muttered. “is a saint.”
I set down my bags and folded my arms. “Oh?”
“I was wrong. So wrong.” He ran his hands through his disheveled hair. “I’ll apologize to her. Whatever she wants to be paid, it’s worth it. More than worth it. Please, just ask her to come back.”
“And?”
“And I’m sorry. To you. To her. To everyone.” His voice cracked. “I get it now. I really get it. I had no idea how much work it was. How she managed to keep the house clean and cook meals and take care of them… I couldn’t even get them to nap at the same time.”
“The Andersons really appreciate her,” I said firmly. “They thank her for dinner. They respect her experience. They PAY her what she’s worth.”
“I’ll do better,” he admitted. “I’ll match what they’re paying. More, even. And I’ll never take her for granted again.”
“Those aren’t my conditions to set anymore,” I reminded him. “You’ll have to convince her yourself.”
We met with my mom the following weekend. Miles, still reeling from his time alone with the kids, could barely meet her gaze.
“Wendy,” His voice wavered. “I was wrong. So wrong. The way I treated you… there’s no excuse.”
Mom stirred her coffee, her face unreadable. “No, there isn’t.”
“I understand now what you do. What you’ve always done for us. And I’m not just sorry… I’m ashamed.”
She looked up, eyes searching his. “It was never about the money, Miles. It was about respect.”
“I know that now.” he admitted. “The Andersons are lucky to have you. But if you’d consider coming back… we’d match their pay, of course. And I swear things would be different.”
Mom studied him for a long moment. “Different how?”
“I’d treat you like the professional you are. Because that’s what you are — a professional who chose to help our family. Not someone doing us a favor, but someone providing an invaluable service.”
She took a deep breath, letting the silence hang between us before finally responding, “I’ll need that in writing. Including sick days and vacation time.”
“Absolutely,” Miles said quickly. “Whatever you want.”
As I watched them hash out the details, I couldn’t help but smile. Sometimes the best way to teach someone value isn’t to tell them — it’s to show them. And sometimes, it takes losing something precious to realize just how precious it was.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Source: thecelebritist.com; thatviralfeed.com