When I came home from the hospital with my newborn, I spotted a folded note on the kitchen table. My heart warmed, thinking it was a sweet message from my mother-in-law, Abigail. Maybe a “Welcome home, new parents!” or a heartfelt congratulations.
But as I unfolded the paper and read the words, my stomach dropped.
“You owe me $600 for feeding and walking Rich. My time costs money. You have my bank details.”
I blinked. My brain refused to process it for a moment. She was charging us—actual money—for taking care of our golden retriever, Rich, while I was in the hospital giving birth.
I stormed into the living room, waving the note in the air. “Jake! You need to see this.”
He was just setting down the baby’s car seat. One glance at my face and then at the note, and he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Are you serious?”
“Oh, I’m dead serious,” I said, shaking the paper. “Your mother is demanding money for watching Rich while I was literally pushing a human out of my body!”
Jake sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’ll talk to her.”
I narrowed my eyes. “No. I’ll handle it.”
A Few Days Before Labor
I had been sprawled out on the couch, shifting uncomfortably as a dull ache radiated through my back. My due date had passed a week ago, and my induction was scheduled for the next morning. I was exhausted, uncomfortable, and more than ready to meet my baby.
Rich, my loyal golden retriever, rested his big, fluffy head on my lap. His warm brown eyes watched me intently, like he could sense something was about to change.
I scratched behind his ears. “You’re a good boy, Rich.”
From the kitchen, Jake was busy stacking turkey and cheese onto a sandwich. He barely looked up when I called his name.
“Yeah, babe?”
I exhaled sharply. “We need to figure out what to do about Rich while we’re at the hospital. Can we ask your mom to help?”
Jake walked over, still holding his half-made sandwich, and kissed my forehead. “Don’t stress, Doris. Mom loves Rich. She’ll handle it.”
I frowned but let it go. Jake was an optimist—one of the things I loved about him, but also one of the things that made me want to shake him sometimes.
That night, he called Abigail. She happily agreed. “Oh, of course, I’d love to help! You just focus on that baby!” she had chirped over the phone.
I had no idea she planned to send us a bill.
The Hospital Stay
My water broke the moment we arrived at the hospital, and everything turned into chaos. Hours of agony, gripping the hospital bed rails like they were my only lifeline, and trying not to scream at the nurses who kept telling me to “breathe.”
Jake was a nervous wreck, squeezing my hand so tightly I thought I might lose circulation. But the moment they placed our baby boy in my arms, everything changed. He was perfect, tiny, and ours.
We cried like fools, wrapped in a little bubble of joy for three days at the hospital.
Before we left, Jake called his mom to let her know we were being discharged. “Take your time getting settled,” she had said. “I’ll come by in a few days to meet my grandson.”
I had thought that was kind. Turns out, she had other plans.
The Confrontation
A week later, Abigail arrived, practically glowing with excitement. She kissed Jake’s cheek, then turned to me, cooing at the baby in my arms.
“Oh, he’s precious! He has Jake’s nose!” she gushed, reaching out to hold him. For a moment, I softened. Maybe she was just being a proud grandmother.
Then, as she handed him back, she cleared her throat. “So… when can I expect my payment? I’ve waited long enough.”
My smile didn’t waver. “Of course, Abigail. I’ll pay you—on one condition.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Condition? What condition?”
I walked over to our computer desk, pulling out a thick folder I had prepared. I had spent the past few days going through every single favor we had done for her—every expense, every time we helped her move, every time we covered something for her.
I laid the folder on the table and slid it toward her. “Since you’re charging us for your services, it’s only fair we do the same.”
She hesitated before picking up the first page. Her face paled as she read.
“Helping you move last year? That’s $800—cheaper than hiring movers, so you got a discount. Covering your car repair when your transmission failed? That was $1,200. Babysitting your neighbor’s kids at your request? That’s $600.”
Abigail’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “This is ridiculous! You can’t charge me for things family does for each other!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Exactly. Family helps each other. I thought that’s what we were doing when you agreed to take care of Rich.”
“But… but this is different! I had to rearrange my schedule!”
I let out a dry laugh. “And I rearranged my entire life to have your grandchild. But sure, let’s talk about compensation.”
Her face turned beet red. Without another word, she spun on her heel and stormed out, slamming the door so hard the baby fussed.
Jake, who had been watching silently from the kitchen, walked over, shaking his head with a small smirk. “No one should mess with my wife.”
I laughed, sinking onto the couch with the baby. “You got that right.”
Rich trotted over, resting his head on my knee. I scratched his ears, feeling a wave of peace settle over me. Abigail might still be fuming, but one thing was certain—she wouldn’t be getting that $600.
And if she ever brought it up again? Well… I still had the folder.
Let her try me.
