The moment we walked through our front door with our newborn son, I spotted the note on the kitchen table. My heart swelled thinking my mother-in-law had left us a sweet welcome message. Instead, it read: “Payment due: $600 for dog care services rendered during your hospital stay. My bank details are below.”
My hands trembled as I held both the note and my sleeping baby. My husband Mark’s face turned crimson. “I’ll call Mom right now,” he muttered, reaching for his phone.
“Wait,” I stopped him, a plan forming in my exhausted but determined mind. “Let me handle this.”
When Susan came to meet her grandson a week later, she gushed over the baby before abruptly changing tone. “So when can I expect my payment?” she asked, her smile turning calculating.
I calmly retrieved a folder from our desk. “Of course, Susan. Right after you settle your balance with us.” I opened it to reveal a detailed accounting of every favor we’d ever done for her – the $1,500 we lent her interest-free last year, the countless weekends Mark spent fixing her house, even the time I organized her entire garage.
Her face fell as she scanned the pages. “This is outrageous! Family helps each other!”
“Exactly,” I smiled sweetly, bouncing my son in my arms. “Which is why we won’t be charging you for any of this… just like we won’t be paying your dog-sitting bill.”
Susan left in a huff, but we haven’t heard another word about that $600. Some lessons are best taught with a dose of their own medicine.