Woman’s One Day Away Becomes a Mother’s Worst Fear After a Call from School — Story of the Day

Mary juggled everything at home while her husband, George, stayed hands-off. Fed up, she decided to take a day for herself, leaving their daughter in his care. But as she relaxed by the ocean, her phone lit up with missed calls from the school. Now, fear set in—what happened while she was away?

Mary stood in the kitchen, moving frantically as she tried to make breakfast. She glanced at the clock and groaned. She had overslept again. Meanwhile, George was still snoring loudly upstairs.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She flipped the toast out of the toaster, only to see that it was burnt. “Ugh!” she muttered, tossing it aside. Without slowing down, she cracked eggs into the pan, but in her hurry, they burned just like the toast.

Suddenly, her alarm blared again, making her jump. “Oh, come on!” she cried, and in the confusion, she knocked over her cup of coffee.

The hot liquid splashed onto her arm, stinging her skin. “Damn it!” she yelped, grabbing a towel to wipe off the mess.

With no time to waste, she rushed to Missy’s room. She sat on the edge of the bed, gently shaking her daughter awake. “Missy, honey, it’s time to get up,” she said softly. Missy groaned, rolling over and pulling the blanket over her head.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mary lifted the still half-asleep Missy and carried her to the bathroom. As she helped Missy wash her face and brush her teeth, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Her hair was wild, her pajamas were wrinkled, and a big coffee stain covered her shirt.

She carried Missy down the hall, heading toward the bedroom. She pushed the door open with her foot and saw George sprawled out on the bed, snoring softly.

“George, I’m running late. Missy’s going to be late for school. Can you help me, please?” Her voice was almost pleading.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

George grunted and rolled to his side, burying his face in the pillow. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled.

Mary sighed and hurried back downstairs, Missy clinging to her. She set Missy down at the table, grabbed a box of cereal, and poured it into a bowl, adding milk.

“I don’t want this!” Missy whined, pushing the bowl away.

Mary took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Pancakes!”

Mary glanced at the time. She was almost out of it. “George!” she shouted toward the stairs. “I really need your help! Get Missy dressed!”

Silence. Not a single sound came from George.

Gritting her teeth, Mary grabbed the pancake mix and began braiding Missy’s hair as the batter sizzled in the pan.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

George finally strolled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. His gaze landed on the stove. “Oh! Pancakes!” he said with a smile, sitting at the table. Without a care in the world, he grabbed a fork and began eating.

Mary glanced at him, her hands busy packing Missy’s lunch. Her shoulders ached from rushing around all morning, but she kept quiet.

“Did you forget to grab my morning paper?” George asked between bites.

Something inside Mary snapped. The words hit her like a slap. “Your paper?!” she yelled. “Why don’t you get it yourself? I’ve been running around like a maniac this morning getting Missy ready for school! I asked you to help! You didn’t even try!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

George blinked, looking confused. “But I work, and you’re a stay-at-home mom…”

Mary cut him off. “You’re on vacation!” she screamed. “You know what? I’ve had enough! I’m taking the day off. You’re dropping Missy off and picking her up from school. You’re watching her all day. I need a break!”

George scratched his head, frowning. “I thought she still went to kindergarten.”

“Aaagh!” Mary shouted, storming out of the kitchen. She raced upstairs to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind her.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mary stood in the bathroom, listening to the faint sound of George and Missy leaving. The front door clicked shut, and for a moment, there was silence.

She let out a long breath. Slowly, she turned on the shower, letting the hot water wash over her. It felt good, soothing her frayed nerves.

Afterward, she got dressed in comfortable clothes, grabbed a small bag, and packed a few essentials—her wallet, a book, and some snacks.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She walked out of the house, locking the door behind her. Climbing into the car, she started the engine and drove toward the ocean, craving a peaceful escape.

Mary stretched out on the warm sand, feeling the sun on her skin. The sound of the waves calmed her, washing away the morning’s stress. She swam in the cool water, floated on her back, and felt a rare sense of peace. For once, she left her phone buried in her bag.

After a while, she sat up and reached for her phone, thinking it was time to check in. As she turned on the screen, her heart skipped a beat. There were over ten missed calls from the school. Something was wrong.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mary’s hands shook as she dialed the school’s number. When someone finally answered, she could barely keep her voice steady.

“Hello? You called? Is something wrong?” Mary asked, her voice trembling.

“Yes, Mrs. Johnson,” replied an elderly woman on the other end. “Missy has gone missing. She went outside during recess and didn’t come back.”

Mary’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean? How could she not return?” she almost shouted, her fear rising.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“We tried reaching you and your husband, but we couldn’t get through.”

Mary felt like the world was spinning. “How could you let this happen?!” she screamed.

“Please, Mrs. Johnson, calm down,” the woman said gently. “We’re doing everything we can to find her.”

“How can you say that?!” Mary yelled. “You don’t know what’s happened to her!” Her voice cracked as she spoke. Without waiting for a reply, she hung up, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She dialed George’s number, throwing clothes into her bag. When he answered, she didn’t waste a second.

“Where are you?!” she screamed into the phone, her voice filled with panic.

“I’m with the police,” George replied. “I’m giving them information about Missy.”

Mary froze for a moment, trying to calm her racing heart. For once, George was stepping up, actually doing something for their daughter.

“But I was told the school couldn’t reach you,” Mary said.

“Yeah… I was at the bar with a colleague, but I saw the missed calls and called them back right away,” George replied, sounding guilty.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“All right,” she managed to say, her voice steadier now. “I’m on my way.” She hung up, grabbed her keys, and rushed to the car.

She jumped into the car, her hands trembling as she fumbled with the keys. The engine roared to life, and she sped out of the parking lot. Her heart pounded in her chest as she weaved through traffic, ignoring the honks and angry shouts from other drivers.

She gripped the wheel so hard her knuckles turned white. Tears blurred her vision, but she blinked them away, focusing on the road ahead.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Finally, she skidded to a stop in front of the school. Barely shutting the car door, she rushed inside. The teachers and staff crowded around her, their faces filled with worry.

“Missy didn’t come back to class after recess,” one of them explained. “We’ve been searching everywhere.”

Mary didn’t wait to hear more. She darted down the hallways, calling out Missy’s name. She checked every bathroom, looked under tables in classrooms, peeked behind doors, her desperation growing with each step.

“Missy! Where are you?” she cried. She started to feel dizzy, her breaths coming in short gasps. Her mind screamed, This is my fault! I should have never left her with George!

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mary sat on the school steps, burying her face in her hands. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her body shook with quiet sobs. She felt helpless. Missy was still missing, and she didn’t know what to do.

Suddenly, her phone rang. She jumped, quickly wiping her eyes. It was George. Her hands trembled as she answered.

“What… what’s the police saying?” she stammered, her voice breaking.

“I found her,” George said, his voice steady.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mary froze. “You… you found her?” she whispered, hardly believing it.

“Yes, we’re at the park. Come here now,” George replied.

Mary leaped up and sprinted to the park, her heart pounding. When she spotted George and Missy sitting on a bench, relief flooded over her. She ran toward them, dropping to her knees as she wrapped her arms around Missy. Tears spilled down her face, soaking Missy’s hair.

“Sweetie, what happened?” Mary asked, holding Missy close.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Missy looked up, her eyes wide. “Dad said we’d go for a walk later. I got tired at school, so I came to the park,” she said, her voice small.

Mary turned to George, shooting him a furious glance. He shifted his gaze to the ground, guilt written all over his face.

“Sweetheart, you can’t just leave school like that,” Mary said, her voice trembling. “We were so scared. We didn’t know where you were.”

Missy frowned. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” she said. “I just wanted to walk with Dad.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mary sighed, feeling the weight of her daughter’s words. She squeezed Missy’s hand. “All right, let’s go home,” she whispered.

On the drive home, the car was quiet. Missy had fallen asleep in the backseat, her head resting against the window. Mary gripped the steering wheel, her mind racing.

She wanted to scream at George, to shout about how careless he’d been, how he’d ignored their child for so long. But before she could open her mouth, George broke the silence.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mary glanced at him, her eyes hard. “Sorry isn’t enough,” she replied, her tone sharp. “Our daughter could have been hurt today. Do you get that?”

George nodded, looking down at his hands. “I know,” he admitted. “I haven’t been the best father.”

Mary shook her head, anger bubbling up again. “It took her going missing for you to realize that? Really?”

George took a deep breath and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small piece of paper and handed it to her. Confused, Mary glanced down. It was a cruise ticket.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What’s this?” she asked, still angry but now curious.

“You deserve a break,” George said, his voice steady. “After you left this morning, I saw the burnt eggs, the cereal, the pancakes. You made three breakfasts in one morning. And that’s only a small part of what you do every day. I’m sorry I didn’t see it before or appreciate you.”

Mary looked at the ticket, then back at George. “And who’s going to look after Missy?” she questioned.

“I will,” he answered, meeting her eyes. “I’m her father. It’s time I started acting like one.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mary pulled into the driveway and parked. She turned to George, her eyes softening. Slowly, she leaned over and hugged him, letting the tears flow.

“I’ll do better,” George promised, holding her tight. Mary nodded, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. Finally, he understood.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

My MIL and Husband’s Sisters Forced Me to Clean Up Alone After Easter Feast—I Agreed, but They Weren’t Ready for My ‘Surprise’

When my husband’s family decided I was their personal maid for Easter, they had no idea I’d already hidden something special alongside those chocolate bunnies. What happened next was something that still makes me laugh.

I’ve never been the type to air my dirty laundry online. Really, I’m not. But what happened this Easter was too perfect not to share.

A woman holding an egg basket | Source: Pexels

A woman holding an egg basket | Source: Pexels

My name’s Emma, I’m 35, work as a marketing director for a mid-sized firm, and I’ve been married to Carter for three wonderful years. Carter is everything I could ask for. He’s supportive, caring, funny, and actually knows how to load a dishwasher correctly.

Our life together has been pretty close to perfect, except for one glaring issue. HIS FAMILY.

“Emma, honey, could you grab me another mimosa while you’re up?” My mother-in-law Patricia’s voice carried across our backyard patio last month, though I’d barely taken two steps toward the kitchen.

She hadn’t moved from her cushioned lounge chair in over an hour.

A woman sitting in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a living room | Source: Midjourney

I’m not one of those people who complain about everything. I don’t post passive-aggressive status updates or share my grievances on social media. But Carter’s mother and his three sisters, Sophia, Melissa, and Hailey… they’re special. And by special, I mean the entitled kind.

“Of course, Patricia,” I replied with the practiced smile I’d perfected over three years of marriage.

From day one, they made it clear I wasn’t quite what they had in mind for Carter.

A man standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

They’re the sort of people who believe they’re always right, and who’ve never truly accepted me. They’re the kind who offer compliments wrapped in barbed wire.

“Oh, Emma, you’re so brave to wear something that tight,” Sophia, the eldest at 41, commented at our last family gathering, eyeing my perfectly normal dress.

Melissa, 39, never misses a chance to comment on my eating habits. “Good for you, not caring about calories,” she’d say while watching me take a single bite of dessert.

A slice of cake in a plate | Source: Pexels

A slice of cake in a plate | Source: Pexels

And then there’s Hailey, 34, who despite being younger than me, always manages to sound like a disapproving aunt. “Our family has strong traditions. Hope you can keep up.”

But this Easter? Oh, they really outdid themselves.

“Since you and Carter don’t have kids yet,” Melissa announced three weeks before Easter while her three children climbed all over my freshly cleaned furniture, “it would make sense for you to organize the Easter Egg Hunt.”

Not just hide a few plastic eggs. No.

I was supposed to create a whole event: scavenger hunt clues, costumes, and even hire a bunny mascot with my own money.

A person in a bunny costume holding a dog | Source: Pexels

A person in a bunny costume holding a dog | Source: Pexels

“It would really show you care about our family,” Sophia added, sipping her latte and adjusting her oversized sunglasses while lounging on my backyard patio.

Carter squeezed my hand under the table. “That sounds like a lot of work,” he started, but his sisters talked over him.

“It’s just what we do in this family,” Hailey shrugged, though I’d never seen her lift a finger to organize anything.

Fine. I swallowed my protests. For now.

Little did they know, I’d already started crafting a plan that would make this Easter one they’d never forget.

A woman writing in a notebook | Source: Pexels

A woman writing in a notebook | Source: Pexels

Two days before Easter, my phone pinged with a text message. Patricia had created a family group chat. Minus Carter, of course.

“Since you’re already helping, honey, it would be WONDERFUL if you just cooked Easter dinner! Carter deserves a wife who can host properly. 😘”

I stared at my phone, my blood pressure rising with each notification as Sophia, Melissa, and Hailey chimed in with their “suggestions.”

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

What she really meant was: Cook for 25 people. A full spread: ham, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, deviled eggs, rolls, two pies, and “a lighter option for those of us watching our figure.”

Not one of them volunteered to bring even a pie.

“They want you to do what?” Carter asked when I showed him the messages. His face flushed with anger. “That’s ridiculous. I’ll talk to them.”

“No,” I said, placing my hand on his arm. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But Emma, that’s too much work. Let me at least order catering.”

A close-up shot of a man's face | Source: Midjourney

A close-up shot of a man’s face | Source: Midjourney

I smiled and kissed his cheek. “I’ve got this, trust me.”

Easter Sunday arrived with perfect spring weather. I’d been up since dawn, hiding eggs for the hunt later and preparing the feast they’d demanded. By noon, our house was filled with Carter’s family. His mother, three sisters, their husbands, and children ranging from four to 12.

“Emma, this ham is a bit dry,” Patricia commented within seconds of taking her first bite.

“The potatoes need more butter,” Melissa added.

Mashed potatoes in a bowl | Source: Pexels

Mashed potatoes in a bowl | Source: Pexels

“In our family, we usually serve the gravy in a proper boat, not a measuring cup,” Sophia pointed out, though I’d used my grandmother’s antique gravy boat.

Carter started to defend me, but I caught his eye and shook my head slightly. Not yet.

They ate. They destroyed the kitchen. They let their kids run wild, smearing chocolate everywhere.

Melissa’s youngest even knocked over a vase, and no one bothered to pick up the pieces. All I heard was, “Kids will be kids!”

A broken vase | Source: Pexels

A broken vase | Source: Pexels

And then, after gorging themselves, they settled onto the couches with their wine glasses, not moving a muscle.

“Emma,” Sophia looked over her shoulder and said, “the kitchen isn’t going to clean itself.”

“Oh, honey,” Patricia added. “Now you can clean everything up. Time to show you’re real wife material.”

They smirked, settling onto the couch like pampered queens while their husbands disappeared to watch basketball in the den.

Carter stood up. “I’ll help you, Emma.”

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

“No, sweetie,” I said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “You worked so hard all week. Go relax with the guys.”

The sisters exchanged satisfied glances. They thought they’d won.

I smiled. Oh, I smiled so sweetly. I clapped my hands together.

“Absolutely!” I chirped. “I’ll handle everything!”

Their smug faces relaxed as they turned back to their conversation about Sophia’s upcoming cruise. Hailey kicked her feet up on my coffee table, her shoes leaving small marks on the wood.

“Kids!” I called out cheerfully. “Who’s ready for the special Easter Egg Hunt now?”

A girl smiling | Source: Pexels

A girl smiling | Source: Pexels

Excited children came running from various corners of the house.

“But I thought we already did the egg hunt this morning,” Patricia said.

“Oh,” I said with a wink to the children. “That was just the regular hunt. Now it’s time for the Golden Egg Challenge.”

The kids squealed with excitement.

“What’s the Golden Egg Challenge?” Melissa’s ten-year-old son asked, practically bouncing with excitement.

A boy standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A boy standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

“Well,” I explained, pulling out a shimmering golden plastic egg from my pocket, “while I was setting up the regular Easter Egg Hunt this morning, I hid something extra special.”

The children gathered around me, their eyes wide with wonder at the gleaming egg in my palm.

“Inside this golden egg is a note about a VERY SPECIAL PRIZE,” I said, lowering my voice dramatically. “Much better than candy.”

“Better than candy?” Sophia’s eight-year-old daughter gasped as if I’d claimed the moon was made of cheese.

A little girl | Source: Midjourney

A little girl | Source: Midjourney

“Absolutely. It’s an ALL-EXPENSES-PAID prize!” I announced.

The kids were practically salivating now. I could feel Patricia and her daughters watching with mild interest from the couch, probably assuming I was talking about some toy or small gift card.

“The golden egg is hidden somewhere in the backyard,” I continued. “Whoever finds it wins the grand prize! Ready?”

The children bolted for the back door, nearly trampling each other to be first outside.

A child walking out of a door | Source: Midjourney

A child walking out of a door | Source: Midjourney

“That’s sweet of you, Emma,” Patricia called from the couch. “Keep them busy while we digest.”

Carter caught my eye from across the room and raised an eyebrow. I just winked.

Fifteen minutes of frantic searching later, we heard a triumphant scream from the far corner of the garden.

“I FOUND IT! I FOUND THE GOLDEN EGG!”

It was Sophia’s daughter Lily, sprinting across the lawn, waving the golden egg over her head like an Olympic torch.

Perfect. I couldn’t have planned it better if I’d tried.

A golden egg | Source: Pexels

A golden egg | Source: Pexels

“Congratulations, Lily!” I cheered as everyone gathered around. “Would you like to open it and read your prize?”

The eight-year-old eagerly cracked open the plastic egg and pulled out a small rolled piece of paper. Her brow furrowed as she tried to read it.

A little girl looking at a piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

A little girl looking at a piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

“Would you like me to read it for everyone?” I offered sweetly.

She nodded and handed me the paper.

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat dramatically. “The winner of the Golden Egg receives the GRAND PRIZE: You and your family get to handle the ENTIRE Easter clean-up! Congratulations!”

For three beautiful seconds, absolute silence fell over our backyard.

Then came the uproar.

“What?” Sophia spluttered, nearly choking on her wine.

“That’s not a prize!” Melissa protested.

Lily looked confused. “I have to clean?”

An upset girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset girl | Source: Midjourney

“Not just you,” I clarified cheerfully. “Your whole family gets to help! Isn’t that exciting? All the dishes, the kitchen, picking up candy wrappers… everything!”

“Emma,” Patricia started, her voice stern. “This is just a joke, right?”

“Oh no, it’s the official Golden Egg prize,” I insisted. “The kids have been so excited about it.”

And that’s when the most magnificent thing happened. All the children began chanting, “CLEAN UP! CLEAN UP!”

Carter burst out laughing, unable to contain himself any longer.

A man laughing | Source: Midjourney

A man laughing | Source: Midjourney

“This isn’t funny,” Hailey hissed.

“Actually,” Carter said, stepping beside me and wrapping an arm around my waist, “it’s hilarious.”

“We can’t expect the kids to clean,” Sophia protested, her face flushing red.

“I’m just following the rules,” I said sweetly. “Family traditions are important, right? You taught me that!”

Patricia stood up, clearly trying to regain control of the situation. “Emma, dear, this is inappropriate.”

A woman yelling | Source: Midjourney

A woman yelling | Source: Midjourney

“Is it?” I asked innocently. “More inappropriate than expecting one person to cook for and clean up after 25 people without help? More inappropriate than making snide comments about my cooking while you eat the food I prepared?”

The children were still chanting, growing louder by the second. Several of them had already started collecting trash from the yard, taking the challenge seriously.

A person collecting trash | Source: Pexels

A person collecting trash | Source: Pexels

“Mom,” Lily tugged at Sophia’s designer blouse. “We won! We have to clean up!”

Faced with their own children’s enthusiasm and the growing awkwardness of the situation, they had no choice.

“Fine,” Sophia finally muttered.

I handed her a pair of rubber gloves with a smile. “The dish soap is under the sink.”

For the next hour, I sat on the patio with my feet up, sipping a perfectly chilled mimosa, watching as Carter’s mother and sisters scrubbed dishes, wiped counters, and swept floors.

Carter joined me, clinking his glass against mine. “You’re brilliant, you know that?”

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

“I learned from the best,” I replied. “Your family always says how important it is to follow traditions.”

As I watched Patricia awkwardly scrub dried gravy from my roasting pan, she caught my eye. For just a moment, there was something new in her expression. Something that looked suspiciously like respect.

Next Easter? I have a feeling they’ll be bringing potluck dishes and cleaning supplies.

A bucket of cleaning supplies | Source: Pexels

A bucket of cleaning supplies | Source: Pexels

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