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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We Postponed Our Wedding Because of My Fiancé’s Business Trip, but I Accidentally Saw Him in Town That Same Day
When Jennifer’s fiancé, Chris, postpones their wedding for a last-minute business trip, she’s heartbroken. But on her birthday, the day they were meant to marry, Jennifer spots him in town. Suspecting betrayal, she confronts him, only to uncover a life-altering secret that Chris has spent years keeping quiet.
Six months ago, when Chris got down on one knee in the park where we had our first date, I thought nothing in my entire life could feel more perfect.
A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney
We set the date for late fall, on my birthday, no less. It felt right, like everything in my life had been leading to that moment.
Chris and I were two halves of a whole, and as cheesy as that sounds, I mean it. He was the methodical planner, thriving on spreadsheets and five-year goals, while I was the impulsive dreamer, chasing creative projects and wandering wherever life led me.
Together, we found balance.
A stack of wedding invitations | Source: Midjourney
Or so I thought.
But then something happened that made me question everything.
A month before our wedding, Chris’s boss threw us a massive curveball. Chris had to attend a crucial business trip.
On the same day as our wedding!
An older man sitting at his desk | Source: Midjourney
“It’s just three days, love,” Chris said, holding my hands. “I know how disappointing it is, but at the same time… this is huge for my career, Jen. There’s a promotion on the line, and it could mean big things for us. We could move into our dream home sooner, we could extend our honeymoon for longer… I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”
I was devastated. I mean, who wouldn’t be?
But what could I do? Reluctantly, I agreed to postpone the wedding for a few weeks. I tried to put on a brave face, telling myself that it was just a small delay along our journey.
An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“Fine,” I said. “And I’ll make all the calls to the vendors and send out messages to all our guests. You focus on work and the trip, and I’ll do the rest. Okay?”
“I knew you’d get it,” he smiled.
Then my birthday arrived, the day we should have been saying ‘I do.’ Instead of getting all dressed, spending time getting my hair and makeup done to perfection, I found myself wandering aimlessly through the city.
A woman walking down a street | Source: Midjourney
My bridesmaids had wanted to spend the day with me, knowing that Chris would be away, but I didn’t want to see them. I didn’t want to see anyone.
“Why are you acting like the wedding is canceled, Jen?” my friend Avery asked. “It’s not. It’s just been postponed.”
“I know that,” I said. “But… I can’t help the way I feel. It’s just… never mind.”
“You can talk to me, Jen,” she said softly.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, but I don’t even know what words to use. I’m feeling deflated, I guess. That’s all. I want to be alone. But I’ll come over tomorrow, I promise.”
I cut the call and left home in my boots. The crisp autumn air bit at my cheeks as I clutched my coffee, trying to ignore the gnawing ache in my chest.
The streets blurred as I walked, my thoughts spinning. I missed Chris. I missed him terribly. And I missed what the day should have been.
A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Midjourney
Eventually, I ended up on the outskirts of town, where a fancy boutique hotel caught my eye. Deciding I needed a drink, something stronger than coffee, I stepped inside the warm lobby.
The soft hum of voices and clinking glasses greeted me as I made my way to the bar. The bartender had just started making my drink when something, or someone, caught my eye.
There he was.
Chris.
The exterior of a hotel | Source: Midjourney
In a suit, standing at the reception desk, talking to the concierge.
My heart stopped.
I blinked, sure that I was imagining things. Chris was supposed to be 500 miles away on his business trip. So, what the hell was he doing here?
Before I could think, I slapped a note on the bar, paying for my untouched drink. I stormed toward the staircase where he had disappeared. My boots echoed against the polished wood as I raced upstairs, my pulse pounding in my ears.
A note on a bar counter | Source: Midjourney
“Chris!” I shouted. “What is happening? Why are you here? What are you doing here?!”
He turned, startled, his face turning pale before my eyes.
“Jen! Wait!”
“No!” I said, my voice giving my feelings away. “You lied to me, Chris! You’re supposed to be on a business trip. Are you… are you cheating on me? Is that what this is?”
A man wearing a suit | Source: Midjourney
His hands shot up in defense.
“No, Jen, I swear it’s not that. Just… please, come with me. I’ll explain everything.”
I followed him down the hall, my anger simmering under the surface. He stopped outside a door, pulling a keycard from his pocket.
“What’s in there? Who is in there?” I demanded.
A man holding a hotel keycard | Source: Midjourney
“Just… trust me.”
The door swung open, revealing a simple hotel room. My stomach churned as I scanned the space, expecting to see some other woman. Instead, it was empty.
Chris gestured to the armchair by the window.
“Sit down,” he said softly.
“Explain, Chris,” I said, suddenly exhausted. “Now. Please.”
The interior of a hotel room | Source: Midjourney
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“Jen, I’ve been working on something for a long time. For years, actually. It’s about your mother.”
I froze.
“My mother?” I echoed. “What?”
He nodded, his voice trembling slightly.
An upset woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney
“I know you don’t talk about her much, but I know how much it’s hurt you, love. Not knowing why she left you at the hospital… not knowing where she went or why.”
I swallowed hard, the familiar ache of abandonment rising in my chest.
“For three years, I’ve been trying to find her,” Chris continued. “I hired private investigators, scoured records, even contacted labs to trace potential matches. And… I think I found her.”
A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney
My heart thudded in my chest.
“There’s a woman,” he said. “Her name is Margaret. She’s staying here at the hotel. I didn’t tell you because… well, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case it wasn’t her. I didn’t even know how to bring it up. But a few weeks ago, we got confirmation that her story matches yours. She’s been looking for you, Jen. My PI told me.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“You’ve been doing all this for me? And you didn’t tell me?”
A private investigator sitting at a desk | Source: Midjourney
He stepped closer, his voice gentle.
“I wanted to protect you. And… I wanted it to be a surprise for your birthday. If it was her, I mean.”
I sank into the closest armchair, my legs too shaky to hold me.
Two hours later, there was a knock at the door. My stomach flipped as Chris stood to answer it.
A woman sitting in an armchair | Source: Midjourney
When the door opened, a woman stepped inside.
She was tall and graceful, with streaks of gray in her dark hair. Her eyes, a piercing shade of green, locked onto mine, and I felt like the air had been punched out of my lungs.
We stared at each other for a long moment, neither of us speaking.
Finally, she broke the silence.
“Jennifer?”
A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney
My name on her lips sounded strange, foreign yet familiar.
I stood slowly, my hands trembling.
“You’re… my mother?”
Tears filled her eyes as she nodded.
“I think so. But… we should go to the lab for a DNA test, just to be sure.”
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
“No,” I said, my voice firm despite the storm of emotions swirling inside me. “I don’t need a test. I know it’s you.”
It sounded stupid, I know. But I could see it all over her face. It was clear, if this woman wasn’t my mother, then she was still closely related to me.
She smiled softly, her tears spilling over.
“You look just like my mother,” she said. “I’ve been looking for you for so long.”
I blinked, confused.
An older woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“You’ve been looking for me?”
She nodded, sitting down across from me.
“It’s a long story,” she said, her voice shaky. “Forty years ago, when I gave birth to you, there was a terrible mistake at the hospital. The nurse mixed up the babies… and I… I left with someone else’s child.”
My head spun.
“What?”
A newborn baby girl | Source: Midjourney
She shook her head.
“I didn’t know the truth until years later, when my daughter, well, the daughter I thought was mine, died in a car accident. A DNA test revealed she wasn’t biologically related to me. I was devastated. And that’s when I started searching for my real daughter. For you.”
My throat tightened.
“But… my mother left me at the hospital. That’s what my foster mother told me.”
The exterior of a hospital | Source: Midjourney
Her face crumpled.
“I know. I think the woman who was supposed to take you home ran away when she realized the mistake. I’m so sorry, darling. You were abandoned because of what happened, and it’s all my fault. I passed out after I gave birth to you, I didn’t know any better when I came to.”
Tears streamed down my face as I tried to process everything.
Chris wrapped an arm around me, his touch grounding me.
A woman in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
“You’re not alone anymore,” he whispered.
Looking at the woman in front of me, my mother, I felt a strange mix of pain and hope. After years of wondering, I finally had answers. And on my birthday, of all days.
“It’s the best gift I could have asked for,” I said softly.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
Two weeks later, we finally celebrated our wedding. My mother sat in the front row, tears shining in her eyes as Chris and I said, “I do.”
And for the first time in my life, I felt whole.
A smiling bride | Source: Midjourney
When Jake insists on cooking Thanksgiving turkey for the first time, Jen is skeptical but supportive until the result is a culinary disaster no one at the table can ignore. But the real shock comes when she discovers the recipe isn’t Jake’s. As tensions simmer and doubts creep in, she’s forced to confront the cracks in their marriage. This Thanksgiving, the turkey isn’t the only thing leaving a bad aftertaste.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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