When I got home from the hospital with my newborn, I found a note on the table that I initially thought was a sweet message from my mother-in-law. Instead, she was demanding $600 for taking care of our dog while I was in labor. My husband said he’d talk to her, but I had a better idea.
A few days before my scheduled induction, I was lying on the couch with worsening back pain. Our golden retriever, Rich, rested his head on my lap, sensing something was going on. I called out to my husband, Jake, who was in the kitchen making a sandwich.
“We need to figure out who’s going to watch Rich while we’re at the hospital,” I told him. He reassured me that his mom, Abigail, would take care of it. “She loves Rich,” he said confidently.
Jake called her that evening, and she immediately agreed. We packed our hospital bags and dropped Rich off the next morning. Abigail smiled and wished us luck as we left. Though she mentioned wishing she could be there for the birth, we had asked our family not to come to the hospital—we wanted it to be just the two of us.
As it turned out, I didn’t need to be induced—my water broke the moment we arrived. Labor was intense and overwhelming, but everything changed the moment I held our baby boy. Jake and I were both emotional wrecks—in a good way. We spent three days in the hospital recovering and bonding with our son.
When we got home, I looked forward to relaxing and introducing Rich to his new baby brother. But when we walked into the kitchen, I saw a folded note on the table. I expected a warm “welcome home” message—but instead, it said:
“Pay me $600 for walking and feeding Rich. My time is valuable. Payment info below.”
I was stunned. Abigail had never mentioned charging us, and I assumed she helped out as a grandmother—not a pet-sitting service.
I called Jake over, showed him the note, and he groaned. “I’ll talk to her,” he offered.
But I had a different plan.
A week later, Abigail came over to meet the baby. She was affectionate and cheerful—until she handed the baby back and asked bluntly, “So, when can I expect the money?”
I smiled. “Of course, Abigail. But I have one condition.”
Her face changed. “Condition?”
I walked over to the desk and retrieved a folder I’d spent days preparing. Inside was a detailed list of all the times Jake and I had helped her out—everything from helping her move, to covering her car repairs, to babysitting her neighbor’s kids as a favor. I handed it to her and said, “Since you’re billing us for your time, we thought it’s only fair to do the same.”
Abigail flipped through the pages, stunned. “You can’t charge me for things family does for each other!” she shouted.
I folded my arms. “Exactly. Family helps each other without a price tag. Or at least, that’s how I thought it worked.”
She sputtered, trying to defend her position, but I reminded her that I’d just gone through childbirth and adjusted my entire life for her grandchild. “So if we’re talking about compensation, I think we’re more than even.”
Red-faced and speechless, Abigail stormed out, slamming the door behind her hard enough to startle the baby.
Jake, watching the whole thing unfold, smiled and kissed my cheek. “No one messes with my wife.”
I sat on the couch, baby in my arms, Rich curled up beside me. It was a peaceful moment—and I knew Abigail wouldn’t bring up the $600 again. But just in case… I still had that folder.
Let her try me.