When my daughter-in-law, Brittany, asked me to babysit for the weekend, I expected cuddles, crumbs, and a few thank-yous—not chaos. The house looked like a toddler hurricane hit: toys everywhere, dishes piled high, and barely any food in the fridge. Still, I didn’t mind. My grandson Noah’s squeal of “Grahma!” melted everything away. We spent the weekend baking cookies, playing at the park, and watching Finding Nemo under blankets. By Sunday night, the house sparkled again, and my heart was full.
Then Monday morning came. On the counter sat a folded note with my name written in pink ink. I smiled, expecting a thank-you. Instead, it was an invoice: eggs $8, water $3, electricity $12—totaling $40, followed by “Please Venmo by Friday.” I laughed, then fumed. She’d actually billed me for staying in her messy house and caring for her child.
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