“But when will I get to see grandchildren? You’re too focused on your career, and I’m worried you’ll never settle down. Don’t you want a family someday?”
Megan sighed, gripping the wheel a little tighter as she tried to keep calm. She loved her mother, but this conversation was becoming all too familiar.
“Mom, I really can’t talk about this right now,” she said, faking a crackle in her voice. “The signal’s bad. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
Before Dina could continue, Megan quickly ended the call, feigning static noises to make it seem like the connection had failed.
She glanced down at the phone and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Pulling into her driveway, Megan parked the car and stared at her house for a moment.
She felt drained, both from the conversation with her mother and from the past few weeks.
What was supposed to be a restful vacation had turned into yet another working trip, with her phone constantly buzzing with problems at work.
For the entire month, she hadn’t been able to fully unplug. She didn’t even know what “rest” meant anymore.
After grabbing her bags from the trunk, Megan walked inside her dimly lit house, too tired to bother turning on all the lights.
She set her bags down by the door and paused for a moment. Something felt off. Glancing around, she noticed that one of the windows on the first floor was slightly open.
Puzzled, she tried to remember if she had left it like that before leaving for her trip. She shrugged it off, assuming she had simply forgotten to close it. It had been a busy month, after all.
Megan shut the window, turned off the last light on the first floor, and headed upstairs.
She barely had the energy to change into her pajamas. She kicked off her shoes, not even bothering to check if everything was in order.
Without thinking, she collapsed into her bed, letting her head sink into the pillow.
The familiar comfort of her bed was a relief, and within moments, Megan was fast asleep, her mind already letting go of the chaos of the day.
Little did she know that tomorrow would bring an unexpected surprise—one she never could have anticipated.
The next morning, Megan was jolted awake by the buzzing of her phone. Half-asleep, she groaned as she answered it, recognizing the overly enthusiastic voice of her assistant, Lisa.
Lisa’s high-pitched chatter filled her ears, rattling off a long list of meetings and tasks for the day at a speed that made Megan’s head spin.
“Lisa, please… slow down,” Megan mumbled, trying to focus as she stumbled out of bed. She held the phone between her ear and shoulder while getting dressed, lazily brushing her teeth, and starting her coffee machine.
The warmth of the coffee was barely hitting her system when something made her stop mid-sip—loud snoring coming from the living room.
Her body tensed as her brain struggled to process what she was hearing. Who is in my house?
“Lisa, I’ll have to call you back,” she said abruptly, hanging up the phone before Lisa could respond. Heart racing, Megan cautiously walked toward the living room, each step feeling heavier than the last.
Peeking inside, she couldn’t believe her eyes. A man—fully dressed with boots still on—was sprawled across her couch, snoring loudly.
Dirty footprints trailed from the window she had closed the night before to where the man now lay. Megan’s mind raced with questions. Who is this guy? How did he get in?
Her eyes narrowed, and without thinking twice, she darted to the kitchen, grabbing the nearest weapon she could find: a broom.
She marched back to the living room and jabbed the man with the handle.
He stirred, groggy and confused, blinking as he rubbed his eyes.
“Who are you?” Megan demanded, doing her best to keep her voice steady despite the panic rising in her chest.
The man, still half-asleep, sat up slowly. “Uh… I’m George,” he muttered, his words slurring together. “How did I get here?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing!” Megan snapped, frustration mixing with confusion. “Why are you on my couch?”
George blinked, clearly disoriented, as he looked around. “I don’t remember much… I was out with some friends, and then… nothing. I guess I drank too much.”
Megan sniffed the air and immediately recognized the stale scent of alcohol. It didn’t take long to piece together what had happened—George had been blackout drunk and somehow ended up in her house.
Her anger started to fade, replaced with a mix of disbelief and reluctant sympathy.
“Well, you’re lucky I didn’t call the police,” she said, setting down the broom. “Take these.”
She handed him a bottle of aspirin and watched as he gratefully swallowed a couple of pills.
“I need to leave for work, but this time make sure you use the door when you go. Not the window.”
George, still looking sheepish, nodded. “Thank you… and I’m really sorry.”
Megan sighed. “Just… don’t make a habit of it.” With that, she grabbed her things and headed out the door, leaving George to process his own mess.
That evening, Megan drove home after a long, exhausting day at work. Her eyes felt heavy, her body sore from sitting in meetings and staring at screens for hours. Her stomach growled in protest, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything substantial all day.
There hadn’t been a single free moment to stop for groceries, and she sighed at the thought of coming home to an empty fridge.
As Megan walked into the house, she froze. The familiar smell of her dim living room was replaced by something unexpected—the soft glow of candles flickered around the room, casting a warm, inviting light.
The dining table, which she had left bare that morning, was now set with plates, silverware, and an array of delicious-smelling dishes.
At the center of it all stood George, looking slightly awkward and sheepish but also determined. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he saw her expression.
“What is this?” Megan asked, her voice a mixture of shock and confusion.
George shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“I… I felt really bad about what happened this morning,” he explained, his voice soft. “So I cleaned up the mess I made, and I wanted to cook you dinner. You know, to make it up to you.”
Megan blinked, still processing the scene before her. She had expected to come home, collapse onto the couch, and figure out how to deal with her hunger.
Instead, she found this—a stranger who had passed out on her couch that morning, now standing in her living room with an entire meal prepared.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she said, still a bit in disbelief.
“I know,” George replied, “but I wanted to. It’s the least I could do after… well, everything.” He offered a small, apologetic smile.
George began to gather his things, ready to leave and give her space, but Megan stopped him.
“Wait,” she said softly, not wanting him to rush off just yet.”
You’ve already gone through all this trouble to make such a nice dinner. Stay and have it with me. I can’t eat all of this by myself, anyway.”
George hesitated, his uncertainty clear.
“Are you sure? I didn’t mean to intrude.”
Megan smiled warmly, her exhaustion from the day fading just a little. “Yes, I’m sure. Besides, it would be nice to have some company.”
They both sat down at the table, and as the scent of the warm food filled the air, Megan couldn’t help but feel a surprising sense of calm.
The hectic day seemed to slip away, replaced by an evening of unexpected comfort.
They sat down at the table, the soft glow of the candles creating a peaceful atmosphere. As they began to eat, the earlier tension seemed to melt away with each bite.
George, now more comfortable, started telling Megan about his wild night out with friends. He laughed as he explained how too much fun and a little too much to drink had led him to her couch, of all places.
“I honestly didn’t even realize I wasn’t home until I woke up this morning,” George chuckled, shaking his head.
“And when I saw you standing there with a broom, I thought I was in serious trouble.”
Megan couldn’t help but laugh along, her earlier frustration fading with each word.
The stress she had carried home after a long day at work seemed to vanish, replaced by the simple joy of sharing a meal and a conversation with someone who made her laugh. It felt like a break from the routine, like a breath of fresh air.
For the first time in what felt like ages, Megan felt completely relaxed. George was easy to talk to, and the conversation flowed naturally. They joked, swapped stories, and enjoyed the food he had so thoughtfully prepared.
Spoiled Son Demands Money For Doing His Chores
A teenage boy demands that his parents pay him for doing his household chores and learns a painful lesson.
Wesley pushed his plate away. “I’m sick of meatloaf,” he complained. “Can’t you make anything else?” he asked his mother.
His mom looked at him indignantly. “We had roast chicken yesterday, hamburgers the day before, fish on Friday…”
Wesley sniffed derisively. “Yeah, yeah…Whatever!” and got up from the table.
“Wesley,” said his mother. “Please rinse your plate and put it in the dishwasher.”
“Why should I?” asked Wesley with typical teen arrogance. “I’m not your slave!”
Price list for chores | Source: AmoMedia.com
“My slave?” gasped his mother, “How can helping out make you my slave?”
“You don’t pay me, do you?” asked Wesley triumphantly. “Work without pay is slavery!”
Wesley’s dad frowned. “We support you, son,” he pointed out. “We house you, feed you, clothe you, and educate you…”
“That’s your duty and my right!” said Wesley. “And the law says you have to do it too, but I don’t have to do a thing!”
Wesley’s mom changed color. “I see! So we have duties and you have rights? Is that what you believe? What about your duty to help, to do your chores?”
“I’m not your slave,” repeated Wesley arrogantly. “If you want me to do things around here, you’d better pay me!”
A rebellious teen | Source: Pexels
Wesley’s mom jumped up but his father laid a gently restraining hand on her arm. “Pay you?” asked the father calmly. “And how much would you want for doing your chores?”
Wesley smiled triumphantly. “I’ve thought about that. For taking out the trash, $1, for washing dishes, $2, walking the dog, $4, cleaning my room, $5, and for cleaning the yard and mowing the lawn, $10. And you’re lucky I’m not demanding back pay.”
“Never!” cried Wesley’s mom angrily, but his father smiled calmly.
“I agree, Wesley. We will pay you for your work according to your demands. From now on you are a man, and we will treat you as such.”
Wesley puffed out his chest. “It’s about time you showed me some respect!” he crowed, and his mother opened her mouth to utter an angry retort. Once again Wesley’s dad smiled sweetly and restrained her.
Angry mother | Source: Unsplash
“Well, son, we start tomorrow, OK? I’ll put up a chart with your chores, and you write down what you’ve done on a daily basis. At the end of each week, say Friday afternoons, you get paid. What do you think?”
Wesley smiled happily. “That’s just perfect, dad!” Wesley walked out feeling on top of the world, without realizing he was about to have one of the worse weeks of his life.
A family works as a unit to make their collective lives better.
Wesley’s mom turned to his father. “Rick, how could you? He’s disrespectful, lazy, and greedy. He needs to learn,…”
Rick was smiling, and it wasn’t a nice smile. “Don’t worry, Martha, I have a plan, and our dear little boy is in for a very unpleasant experience. We’re going to teach him a lesson!”
The next day, Wesley walked into the house after football practice. It had been a long day at school and he was starving. “Hey mom!” he said. “What’s for dinner?”
Making a price list for his chores | Source: Pexels
“Turkey pot-pie with sweet potatoes and peas,” his mother said smiling sweetly.
“Cool!” cried Wesley. “I’m starving!” He saw that his dad had put up a chart on the wall and he immediately walked over and filled in walking the dog and cleaning his room. Later he would take out the trash.
That’s $9 already, though Wesley happily. I’m going to be rich! An hour later the scent of the food lured him down to the kitchen again where he found his mother and his father having dinner.
“Mom!” he cried indignantly. “You didn’t call me and I told you I was starving!”
Wesley’s mom smiled, and his father replied: “But Wesley, now that you are earning your own money, you will have to support yourself. If you want your mother to cook for you, you will have to pay her.”
“PAY HER?” screamed Wesley, “I’m not going to pay her!”
Walking the dog | Source: Unsplash
“Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to dip into your savings and order take away, then.” Wesley’s mother said still smiling.
“But…but…That’s not fair!” screamed Wesley and stormed upstairs. He ordered a pizza and it cost him $15 plus the delivery fee and the tip. Wesley worked out that he’d have to work three whole days to pay for that pizza. Being an independent man was expensive!
The next morning he came down for breakfast to find his mother making bacon and eggs and it smelled delicious. “Hi mom,” he said sweetly, “can I have my eggs over easy?”
“Sure, son!” she smiled. “That will be $6 for breakfast!”
“You’re charging me for breakfast?” cried Wesley angrily. “That’s not fair!”
But Wesley was in for another surprise. “Dad,” Wesley said, “our coach said we have to have new team jerseys and it will cost $69,99.”
Cleaning up his room | Source: Unsplash
“I see,” said his dad smiling. “But why are you telling me this?”
“Well, so you can give me the money!” said Wesley.
“But, Wesley,” his dad said, still smiling, “now that you’re earning money, you pay for your own expenses, and that includes clothes. I thought you knew that.”
“I don’t have that kind of money!” cried Wesley. “Where am I supposed to get $70?”
“Save it up from your what you earn, of course. It’s what we do!” dad said.
Wesley was stunned. Not only would he have to feed himself, but he’d also have to buy his own clothes? This wasn’t what he’d imagined when he’d demanded payment for his chores. “Well, OK,” he said. “Listen, dad, could you give me a ride to school? I’m a bit late…”
Nothing for dinner | Source: Unsplash
“Sure, son!” his dad smiled. “That will be $5.50.”
“You’re going to charge me for a ride to school?” Wesley gasped.
“Sure, after all, you’d pay a taxi, wouldn’t you?” his dad pointed out reasonably.
“But you’re my DAD!” cried Wesley. “And you’re charging me?”
“Oh Wesley, dear,” said his mother sweetly. “That reminds me! That will be $12.50 for washing and ironing your clothes.”
Wesley walked to school and was late. At lunchtime, he ate the cafeteria food with great gusto. He wondered when he’d taste his mother’s meatloaf again, or her mac and cheese, or her amazing Irish stew…
Boy runs out of money | Source: Unsplash
That night, Wesley came down at dinnertime looking despondent. His parents were having dinner and it smelled delicious. Wesley’s stomach rumbled. “Mom, dad?” he said quietly. “Can we talk?”
“Sure son,” said his father. “What’s on your mind?”
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry about that payment thing. I guess I never thought about everything you two do for me every day, and you never ask for anything in return.”
“We were hoping you’d realize that, Wesley. Everything we do for you, we do out of love, not obligation or duty,” his mother said.
“I know, mom, I’m so sorry,” Wesley whispered, and his eyes filled with tears.
Wesley’s dad got up and put his arms around him. “Son, in this family we do all we can to help each other, to make all our lives easier and better. That’s what being a family is all about, and we were hoping you’d understand that.”
Boy apologizes to his parents | Source: Pexels
Wesley’s mom gave him a hug too and said, “So how about some dinner? I made cottage pie and green beans — your favorite!”
That night, Wesley had one of the nicest evenings ever with his parents, and he learned one of the most important lessons: to appreciate all that his parents do for him and to do his part in helping his family.
What can we learn from this story?
1. Love doesn’t demand payment.
2. A family works as a unit to make their collective lives better.
Share this story with your friends. It might inspire people to share their own stories or to help someone else.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a spoiled rich girl who leaves her restaurant bill unpaid and learns a painful lesson.
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