Returning home with our newborn baby, I noticed a note on the kitchen table. At first glance, I assumed it to be a heartfelt message from my mother-in-law, but to my surprise, it was a $600 invoice for taking care of our dog, Rich, while I was in labor. My husband intended to discuss it with her, but I had a different strategy in mind.
Just a few days before my due date, I was resting on the couch, dealing with a persistent backache that was getting more intense by the minute. My golden retriever, Rich, was right by my side, resting his head on my lap as if he could sense my discomfort. I absent-mindedly scratched his ears, calling out to my husband, Jake, who was in the kitchen.
“Jake, we need to make arrangements for Rich while we’re at the hospital,” I mentioned. He approached with a sandwich, kissed my forehead, and in his usual laid-back manner, reassured me. “Don’t worry. Mom loves Rich. She’ll take care of everything.” While his easygoing nature was one of the things I adored about him, it could also be somewhat frustrating at times.
Later that evening, Jake contacted his mother, Abigail, to inquire if she could look after Rich. She instantly agreed, expressing her willingness to help. It seemed like the issue was settled—or at least I thought it was.
The following morning, with our bags packed, we dropped Rich off at Abigail’s place. She warmly smiled and waved us off with, “Don’t worry, I’ll take great care of him. Go have my grandchild!” Despite her kindness, there was an unmistakable undertone indicating she had been disappointed about not being invited to the hospital. Nonetheless, I was grateful for her assistance.
Upon arriving at the hospital, everything moved swiftly, and before long, my water broke. Labor was an intense ordeal. Hours of gripping bed rails, enduring unyielding contractions, with Jake trying—and failing—to maintain composure left me expertly exhausted. Yet, holding my son in my arms made every ounce of pain worth it. Jake and I cried shamelessly, overwhelmed by the little, perfect person we had brought into the world.
Three days post-delivery, we were discharged. Jake phoned Abigail to thank her and inform her of our return. She graciously allowed us some days to settle in before visiting us. I was touched by her thoughtfulness and eager to introduce Rich to his new sibling.
Entering the kitchen, I noticed a folded note. Warming my heart at the thought of a sweet welcome-home message, I was shocked to read: “You owe me $600 for feeding and walking Rich. My time costs money. You have my bank details.”
Initially, I thought there was a misunderstanding. However, the message was clear. My mother-in-law had charged us for taking care of our dog without any prior discussion. Dumbfounded, I waved the note at Jake, who groaned and suggested he would confront her. Yet, I had a different plan. “No, let me handle this,” I told him, an idea already forming in my mind.
A week later, Abigail visited to see the baby. After adoring her grandson, she directly brought up the $600. With a sweet smile, she asked, “So, when can I expect my money?” Returning her smile, I agreed under one condition.
I approached the desk, pulled out a folder, and handed it over. “Since you’re charging us, it’s only fair we do the same,” I stated. The folder contained an invoice detailing every favor we’d done for her: moving her house ($800), her car repair ($1,200), and babysitting her neighbor’s kids ($600).
Abigail’s face drained of color as she glanced over the document. “This is absurd!” she argued. “You can’t charge family for such things!” Raising an eyebrow, I replied, “Exactly. I assumed family doesn’t charge family.”
Though she attempted to justify her stance, she eventually stormed off, visibly upset. Jake, who had observed the exchange silently, embraced me with a laugh, “Nobody should underestimate my wife.” I joined him in laughter, settling on the couch with our baby while Rich cozied up at my feet.
I was uncertain if Abigail had learned her lesson, but it was clear she wouldn’t be receiving the $600. If she decided to challenge it again, I was prepared with the folder. Let her give it a try.