You’d expect family to be the last people to take advantage of you, right? At least, that’s what I thought—until my cousin Ella started using me like her unpaid housekeeper. It wasn’t until my dad stepped in with a brilliant scheme that everything finally changed.
We all have that one cousin who’s a little over the top, don’t we? For me, that’s Ella. I’m Zoe, 25, fresh out of grad school and still figuring out my next steps.
Right now, I work part-time at a local bookstore—enough to cover the bills while I look for something more permanent. My life’s quiet: books, coffee, hikes on weekends, and a small group of friends. Nothing fancy, but I’m happy with it.
Our family is big and close-knit, which means everyone’s tangled up in each other’s business. Ella, who’s a few years older than me, always seems to be in the thick of it all. Her energy can be exhausting—it’s like she thrives on chaos.
You’d think that being married to Mike and raising their two-and-a-half-year-old son, Tyler, would’ve calmed her down a little. But nope, Ella is still Ella. They live in a cramped basement apartment under her parents’ house. It’s not much, but it’s their home.
I’d been there only a handful of times for family gatherings and never felt totally comfortable. I’ve always been more of an observer in the family—happy to sit back and watch while others created the drama.
So, when Ella called me out of nowhere one afternoon, sounding panicked, I wasn’t shocked.
“Zoe, I need a HUGE favor! Can you come over and watch Tyler? Something just came up, and I have to leave right now!” she blurted, her voice high-pitched with urgency.
I checked the clock. My schedule was clear. “Sure, Ella, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Why not? I adore Tyler, and I figured it would be a nice change from my usual routine.
When I showed up, Ella and Mike were practically stumbling over each other to get out the door.
“Thank you so much, Zoe!” Ella cried, already halfway outside.
Mike tossed me a quick wave. “We owe you one!” And just like that, they were gone.
Tyler, meanwhile, was grinning from ear to ear, arms stretched out for a hug. “Hey, buddy!” I said, scooping him up. His giggle melted my heart, and for a moment, I didn’t think twice about his parents’ rushed exit.
Then Tyler tugged on my sleeve. “Hungry, Zozo.”
“Alright, let’s see what we can find,” I said, carrying him to the kitchen.
And that’s when I froze.
The place looked like a disaster zone. Dishes stacked everywhere, crusty food clinging to pots, trash spilling out of the bin. The smell alone nearly knocked me over.
“What… happened in here?” I whispered, mostly to myself. Tyler just pointed at the fridge.
I couldn’t bring myself to cook anything in that mess, so I rolled up my sleeves and started cleaning. I washed dishes, wiped counters, tossed garbage—until finally, I carved out a usable spot to make Tyler a simple meal.
I brushed it off at first, thinking Ella and Mike were just having a rough week. But then it happened again.
The following weekend, Ella called with the same frantic request. I agreed. And again, the apartment was trashed. I sighed, cleaned up enough to feed Tyler, and told myself it was temporary.
Except it wasn’t.
Week after week, Ella kept calling, and every time, it was the same disaster zone waiting for me. I’d spend hours scrubbing and tidying just so I could make Tyler dinner, while Ella would dash out with a quick “Thanks!”
One Saturday, it was worse than ever—the sink overflowing with dirty dishes, the fridge practically glued shut, the whole place reeking.
That night, I came home fuming. Dad noticed right away. “Tough day?” he asked as I tossed my bag down.
I vented everything. “Ella keeps asking me to babysit, but every time, I walk into a pigsty. I spend more time cleaning than actually looking after Tyler. Dad, she’s using me as free labor!”
He listened carefully. “And this has been going on… how long?”
“Months!” I groaned. “I didn’t want to abandon Tyler in that mess, but I’m done.”
“Why haven’t you told her to clean before you arrive?” Dad asked, frowning.
I shrugged. “I didn’t want to seem rude. Ella’s always stressed out, and I didn’t want to make her feel worse.”
Dad leaned back, arms crossed. “Zoe, babysitting doesn’t mean housecleaning. You’re doing her a favor, not running a cleaning service.”
I sighed. “I know… I just didn’t want to cause drama.”
That’s when I caught a mischievous spark in his eyes. He leaned forward and whispered, “Alright, here’s the plan…”
The next time Ella asked me to babysit, I’d agree. But around dinnertime, Dad would call her mother-in-law, Barbara, and ask her to bring over food. Meanwhile, I’d pretend to have an emergency and leave. That way, Barbara would walk right into Ella’s filthy kitchen, and Ella would finally be forced to deal with it.
The following weekend, Ella called—right on cue. I said yes. Everything played out as usual: Ella rushing out, me playing with Tyler, the kitchen still a mess.
By dinner, Dad sent the signal: Time to go.
I told Ella I had an emergency and slipped out just as Barbara pulled up, carrying a pot of food. “Zoe? What’s going on? Ella didn’t mention needing dinner,” she asked, confused.
I forced a polite smile. “Sorry, Barbara, I’ve got to run. Thanks for coming!” And I left before she could ask anything else.
I could only imagine her walking in to find Ella standing in the middle of that disaster.
Not long after, my phone blew up. Ella texted:
“Why didn’t you clean up?”
“Mom’s here, and she’s furious! What am I supposed to do?”
I let her stew before finally answering her call. Her voice was panicked. “Zoe, why did you leave like that? And why didn’t you clean?”
I stayed calm. “Ella, I’ve been scrubbing your place every time I babysit. I signed up to watch Tyler, not to clean your entire house. I couldn’t keep doing it.”
Silence. Then, a sigh. “I… didn’t realize how much I was dumping on you. I’ve just been overwhelmed. I’m sorry, Zoe.”
I softened, but I stood my ground. “I love Tyler, but I can’t keep doing this. If you want me to babysit again, the apartment needs to be clean first. Otherwise, you’ll need to find someone else.”
Her voice was gentler now. “You’re right. I won’t let this happen again. I promise.”
And to her credit, she kept her word.
The next time I went over, the place was spotless. Dinner was ready, Tyler was happy, and I didn’t have to lift a finger beyond babysitting.
Since then, things have been better. Ella learned to respect my time, and I learned that sometimes, you have to set boundaries—even with family.
In the end, Dad’s plan was perfect. Ella finally realized that family doesn’t mean free labor, and I discovered that the best lessons often come from letting people face the mess they create.