My Husband and 4 Kids Are Constantly Slacking off Their Chores – This Time I Taught Them a Good Lesson

My Husband and 4 Kids Are Constantly Slacking off Their Chores – This Time I Taught Them a Good Lesson

A mother of four was exhausted from doing all the household chores, despite working longer hours than her husband. She repeatedly begged her kids and husband to help out, but her pleas were often ignored. Eventually, she took matters into her own hands and taught them a lesson for slacking off their chores.

An exhausted mother | Source: Pexels

An exhausted mother | Source: Pexels

My name is Sarah, and my life is a whirlwind of real estate deals and family responsibilities. My husband, Mark, works at a shipyard, and we juggle raising four kids: 13-year-old twins Emma and Ethan, 12-year-old Lily, and our 8-month-old baby, Mia. We both work around 50-60 hour weeks, and while Mark gets weekends off, I do not.

A man, a baby, and the mother | Source: Pixabay

A man, a baby, and the mother | Source: Pixabay

For years, I enforced a chore system, teaching our kids to contribute to the household. But since Mia was born, everyone’s efforts have dwindled, Mark included. I often come home to find him on the couch, glued to his phone, while the kids are absorbed in video games or makeup tutorials.

A tired mother asking for help | Source: Pexels

A tired mother asking for help | Source: Pexels

The house isn’t dirty, just cluttered, but the state of the kitchen drives me insane. I’ve repeatedly voiced my frustration, sometimes resorting to drastic measures like cutting off the internet, canceling family trips, grounding the kids, and having heated arguments with Mark.

For instance, one weekend, the kitchen was a battlefield once more, the remnants of dinner scattered across the counters and dishes piled high in the sink. I stood at the doorway, my frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

A kitchen sink full of dishes | Source: Pexels

A kitchen sink full of dishes | Source: Pexels

“Mark, I can’t keep doing this,” I began, my voice trembling with pent-up anger. “Every day I come home to the same mess. What do you even do all day?”

Mark looked up from his phone, his expression a mix of annoyance and guilt. “I work too, Sarah. I’m tired when I get home and would love to just rest on the weekends.”

I threw my hands up in exasperation. “And I’m not? I work just as many hours as you, if not more! But somehow, I am the only one who cares about this house being livable.”

A woman confronting a man | Source: Pexels

A woman confronting a man | Source: Pexels

Mark’s face hardened. “I do my part. But sometimes I need a break too.”

“A break? You think I don’t need a break?” My voice rose, the edge of my tone sharper. “I can’t even cook dinner without washing a sink full of dishes first. The kids have chores, you have chores, but nothing gets done unless I nag everyone. I’m tired of being the bad guy.”

Mark stood up, his own temper flaring now. “I’m sorry I’m not perfect, okay? Maybe if you didn’t make such a big deal out of every little thing, the kids and I wouldn’t feel so stressed.”

A man and woman arguing | Source: Pexels

A man and woman arguing | Source: Pexels

My eyes flashed. “Oh, so it’s my fault now? If you’d just step up and parent, maybe I wouldn’t have to be the one holding everything together. I’m exhausted, Mark. This isn’t just about dishes. It’s about respect and responsibility.”

The argument continued, our voices echoing through the house, each word a reminder of the growing chasm between us. On that day, he took care of the dishes and organized the house after our intense arguments but my efforts often yielded short-term improvements that quickly faded away.

A messy house | Source: Pexels

A messy house | Source: Pexels

So, yesterday was no different as much as I had expected my husband and kids to at least clean the house. Before heading to work, I reminded them, saying, “You guys better have your chores done by the time I get home.” They responded with the usual, “Yes, ma’am.”

After leaving work, I texted Mark around 4:30 p.m. to ask what they wanted for dinner, and I picked up their requests at the grocery store.

I walked into our home to find the same disheartening scene, a sink overflowing with dishes, a wet load of laundry in the washer, Mark lounging on the couch, and the kids in their rooms.

Laundry in the washing machine | Source: Pexels

Laundry in the washing machine | Source: Pexels

I set the groceries on the table, packed a bag for Mia, and told Mark, “Have at it. I’m going to Applebee’s.” He looked up in surprise, but I walked out with Mia without another word. About 20 minutes later, he called.

“I washed the dishes. I’m sorry. I was super tired today.”

“You use that excuse all the time. There are three older kids with chores, and you couldn’t even tell them to do anything?” I shot back, my patience worn thin.

Angry woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

Angry woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying to work on it. Can you just come home? I don’t know how to make this dish,” he pleaded.

I was tired of him behaving like an inexperienced baby yet he was a grown-up.

“It is a complicated dish but you can Google how to make it or find tutorials on YouTube. So, no. I’m sitting at Applebee’s, enjoying my steak and shrimp with Mia. You and the kids can fend for yourselves. Apology or not, I’m not letting you off the hook this time.”

A frustrated woman | Source: Pexels

A frustrated woman | Source: Pexels

He had me on speakerphone, and I could hear the kids in the background, chiming in, “Please grab us something from Applebee’s.”

“Absolutely not,” I said firmly and hung up.

When I returned home, the groceries were put away, and the family had settled for grilled cheese and cereal for dinner. The tension in the air was palpable as Mark and the kids sat at the table, their expressions a mix of frustration and resentment.

A girl eating cereal | Source: Freepik

A girl eating cereal | Source: Freepik

“Everyone should know that this is how it will be every single time you don’t do your chores,” I stated firmly, standing my ground despite the uncomfortable silence that followed.

Mark looked up, his eyes tired but defiant. “Sarah, we get it. But was it really necessary to leave like that? You could have just told us to get it done, and we would have.”

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “I have told you. Over and over again. And nothing changes. I’m tired of being the only one who cares enough to do something about it.”

A couple in disagreement | Source: Pexels

A couple in disagreement | Source: Pexels

Emma, one of the twins, looked down at her plate, pushing her food around. “Mom, we’re sorry. We didn’t mean to make you so upset.”

Lily, the 12-year-old, chimed in, her voice small. “We didn’t think it was such a big deal. We thought you’d just remind us again.”

The sad twin looking down at her plate | Source: Pexels

The sad twin looking down at her plate | Source: Pexels

I felt a pang of guilt but pushed it aside. “It is a big deal. It’s not just about the dishes. It’s about all of us taking responsibility for our home. I need to know that when I come home, I’m not walking into more work yet all you have been doing is sitting around.”

Mark leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “I understand that, Sarah. But maybe we can find a better way to handle this. Storming out isn’t the answer.”

The man at the dining | Source: Pexels

The man at the dining | Source: Pexels

My frustration bubbled up again. “I’ve tried talking, Mark. I’ve tried asking nicely, reminding, and even nagging. Nothing sticks. I needed to show you all that I’m serious.”

He sighed, looking at the kids, then back at me. “Alright. We’ll do better. But can we also agree to talk things through before they get to this point?”

Husband and wife reconciling | Source: Pexels

Husband and wife reconciling | Source: Pexels

I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and lingering anger. “Yes, but only if everyone truly steps up. I can’t do this alone.”

The kids nodded solemnly, and Mark reached across the table to take my hand. “We’ll make it work, Sarah. We’ll all try harder.”

A happy household | Source: Pexels

A happy household | Source: Pexels

As I stood there, watching my family, I couldn’t help but reflect on the day’s events. Had I gone too far? Maybe. But something had to give. I hoped this would be the wake-up call they needed. Only time would tell if the message had finally sunk in.

Woman Opens Her Door and Sees Crying Little Girl Who Claims Her Mom Is in the House — Story of the Day

A young woman’s impulse to help a grieving little girl ended up turning her life around and bringing her happiness.

How many of us can claim that destiny came knocking on our door? Yet that is what happened to Anna Uriel. In Anna’s case, destiny took the shape of a little girl with big brown eyes, her hair in a braid.

Anna answered the doorbell and found herself staring down at a little girl no more than six years old in a pretty gingham dress. “Hi sweetheart,” she said gently. “I think you have the wrong house.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

The girl shook her head. “No, this is my mommy’s house. Please can you call her?”

“I’m sorry, hun,” Anna said. “I’m the only person who lives here.”

The child started crying. “Please, please! I need my mommy!”

“Hun, where is you daddy?” asked Anna.

“He’s at home. He says mommy’s gone forever, but I know it isn’t true. She’s here!” the girl sobbed.

Anna crouched down and looked the little girl in the eye. “Sweetie, I promise you your mommy’s not here. How about I give you some warm milk and cookies and I take you home to your daddy?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

The girl looked up at Anna sadly. “Okay,” she whispered.

Anna turned to lead the girl into the house, but when she looked around again she was gone. Had it all been a dream? Anna walked next door and knocked on Mrs. Freman’s door.

She told Mrs. Freman about the mysterious little girl. “She vanished so quickly I almost felt it had all been a dream!” Anna concluded.

Mrs. Freman poured Anna some tea. “Your house used to belong to a little family. They had a little girl. Nice people. But the mother became very ill and after she passed away her husband sold the house. That must be the child.”

“Poor thing!” Anna sighed. “To lose her mother so young!”

“I can’t remember their name…” Mrs. Freman said. “It’s my memory…But the little girl… Her name was Cassie!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unplash

“Cassie,” Anna said. “If she comes back, I’ll call the police, take her home. She’s much too young to be wandering the streets alone.” But Cassie didn’t come back and Anna’s life continued as planned.

Anna had always believed in making plans. She’d planned to marry at 25 and to become a mother at 28, but for four years she and her husband had tried to conceive, and still there was no baby.

After a lot of painful treatments, Anna became pregnant, but sadly, she lost her baby when he was only a month old. The doctors told her her chances of having another were slim to none.

Her husband told her quite frankly that being childless was not in his plans, and he didn’t want to adopt. He walked out and left Anna devastated and alone with her shattered dreams.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

So Anna could understand Cassie’s pain, the empty place in her life and in her arms where her baby should be. Anna knew how hard it is to let go. She hoped Cassie would come back, but months went by without a visit.

Then one winter evening, there was a knock on her door. There in the doorway stood Cassie huddled in a winter coat, tears freezing on her little cheeks. “Please, lady, I really need my mommy. Daddy’s on the floor and I can’t wake him up. Please, please call my mommy!”

Anna was horrified. She grabbed her coat and her purse. “Honey, Cassie, right? Can you show me where your daddy is?”

Destiny can bring happiness to our door when we least expect it.

The child smiled radially up at Anna. “I knew you’d remember me, mommy! Come!” and she tugged urgently on Anna’s hand and led her to an apartment building three blocks away.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Anna found the front door open, and lying in the middle of a squalid room was an unconscious man. She tried to shake him awake. He stank of alcohol! She dragged him off the floor and onto the couch and walked into the kitchen. It was a disgrace.

Anna set a pot of coffee brewing and started to clean up. Cassie followed her. “Mommy, are you going to make cookies? I’ve missed your cookies!”

“Cassie, I’m not your mommy, but I’ll make you some cookies,” Anna told the little girl. Over the next hour, Anna restored some much-needed order to the apartment and popped a tray of cookies into the oven.

Soon the delicious aroma of cookies and coffee filled the house. Anna filled a mug with coffee and went back to the man. She shook him. “Wake up!” she ordered, “Your daughter needs you!”

The man opened swollen eyes and for a moment his face reflected a dawning hope. “Bess?” he whispered.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“I’m Anna, and your daughter came knocking on my door looking for her mother.” Anna’s voice was harsh. “She needs her father, so sober up and pull yourself together!”

The man struggled up off the couch. “I don’t need you or your help! Get out”

“I’m not here for you, you fool. I’m here for Cassie.” Anna snapped. “And remember, while you were here wallowing in self-pity she was knocking on a stranger’s door.”

Anna kissed Cassie goodbye and walked out. She never imagined she’d see Cassie or her awful dad ever again, but a week later, there was a knock on her door. A tall handsome man was standing there.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“Hi,” he said nervously. “I wanted to thank you and to apologize…”

“I’m sorry,” Anna said bewildered. “Who are you?”

The man blushed. “I’m Jeffrey, Cassie’s dad. I wanted to thank you for what you did for Cassie — and for me. I was so lost in my grief I didn’t realize what Cassie was going through.”

Anna smiled. “It’s okay, I know how hard it is to pull through those dark days.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Jeffrey looked into Anna’s sad eyes. “You lost someone too?”

“My son,” Anna whispered, tears in her eyes. “After he died, my husband left…”

From then on, Anna started visiting Cassie and Jeffrey and the three of them helped each other through their grief. One day, Anna and Jeffrey discovered they were in love — Cassie already knew — and they got married.

Two years later, Anna was blessed by an unexpected miracle. She discovered she was pregnant and she and Jeffrey welcomed a beautiful, healthy baby boy. Cassie became the proudest big sister in the world.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

What can we learn from this story?

  • Destiny can bring happiness to our door when we least expect it. Anna was sad and lonely until Cassie knocked on her door looking for her mother.
  • Sometimes a wake-up call can turn a life around. Anna’s visit showed Jeffrey he had to stop grieving and focus on his daughter.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a young widower who refused to allow his dead wife’s family to have contact with her daughter.

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