My Brother Makes Our Grandma Do Everything around the House — When I Saw Her Washing the Floors I Taught Him a Lesson

My Brother Makes Our Grandma Do Everything around the House — When I Saw Her Washing the Floors I Taught Him a Lesson

When Mike’s careless attitude toward his elderly grandmother reaches a boiling point, his sister devises a cunning plan to teach him a lesson. What starts as a simple party quickly unravels, exposing family tensions and leaving Mike humiliated in front of friends and family.

Hi! My name’s Mia, and here’s my story. My grandma moved into my brother’s house a few months ago after hers was sold. She needed money for medical bills, and living with him seemed like a great idea. She never complained about it, and I thought they were having a great time until I came to visit…

Mia cooks as her grandmother does the dishes | Source: Midjourney

Mia cooks as her grandmother does the dishes | Source: Midjourney

During my first week there, I saw my grandma cook, clean, do laundry, and tend to the yard day after day. Not once did my brother lift a finger to help. Despite Granny’s back problems, he told her to do more and more with this bored, entitled tone.

“Granny, can you iron my shirts?” he would call out from the living room.

“Sure, dear,” she would reply, forcing a smile.

Grandmother mowes the lawn | Source: Midjourney

Grandmother mowes the lawn | Source: Midjourney

“Granny, the yard needs mowing,” he would say while playing video games.

“Of course, I’ll get to it,” she would answer, wincing as she stood up.

One afternoon, I found her mopping the floors. Her hands were red and dry, with knuckles sticking through pale skin. She moved slowly, pain evident in every step. That’s when I broke down and decided I couldn’t stay quiet any longer.

Mia confronts her grandma | Source: Midjourney

Mia confronts her grandma | Source: Midjourney

“Grandma, why are you doing all this?” I asked, my voice trembling with anger. “You should be resting!”

She looked up, tired eyes meeting mine. “He needs help, dear. He’s busy with work.”

“Busy?!” I exploded. “He’s playing video games all day! This is not fair!”

Grandma sighed. “I don’t mind. It’s just a little work.”

Mike plays video games | Source: Midjourney

Mike plays video games | Source: Midjourney

But it wasn’t just a little work. It was too much for anyone, let alone an elderly woman with health issues. I knew I had to do something. I decided to organize a party, but not just any party. This would be a party with a twist.

The relationship between my brother and me had always been complicated. Growing up, Mike was the golden child, the one who could do no wrong.

Mike as a child | Source: Midjourney

Mike as a child | Source: Midjourney

He was a star athlete in high school, always surrounded by friends and admiration. I, on the other hand, was the quiet, bookish one. I didn’t mind staying out of the spotlight, but it did create a rift between us.

Our parents adored Mike and doted on him, often overlooking his flaws. They saw him as ambitious and driven, while I was seen as the responsible one.

I expected him to help out more around the house. This dynamic followed us into adulthood. When Grandma moved in, I hoped Mike would finally step up and take responsibility.

Mike laughs it off | Source: Midjourney

Mike laughs it off | Source: Midjourney

“Mike, can you at least help Grandma with the groceries?” I had asked one day when I called to check in.

He had laughed. “She’s fine, sis. She likes to stay busy.”

“She’s not a maid,” I had snapped back, frustration boiling over.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he had replied dismissively.

The struggling grandma | Source: Midjourney

The struggling grandma | Source: Midjourney

Seeing Grandma now, struggling and in pain, I felt a mix of anger and sadness. Mike had always been self-centered, but this was a new low. I couldn’t stand by and watch any longer.

One evening, I sat down with Grandma after dinner. “Granny, you need to rest. You can’t keep doing all this.”

She patted my hand. “I’ll be fine, sweetie. I’ve handled worse.”

Mia talks to her grandma | Source: Midjourney

Mia talks to her grandma | Source: Midjourney

“But you shouldn’t have to,” I insisted. “Mike needs to learn to help out. This isn’t fair to you.”

She sighed, looking weary. “He’s just used to it. He’s always been like this.”

I shook my head. “That doesn’t make it right.”

As I thought about what to do, an idea formed in my mind. It was bold, maybe even a bit risky, but I knew it had to be done. Mike needed a wake-up call, and I was just the person to give it to him. He couldn’t keep getting away with treating Grandma like this. It was time for a change.

Mia has an idea | Source: Midjourney

Mia has an idea | Source: Midjourney

The plan started to take shape in my mind. I would organize a surprise for Mike, something that would make him see just how much work Grandma was doing. He needed to understand the weight of responsibility and the value of family. And I was determined to make sure he learned his lesson.

On her last day of staying there, I asked my brother Mike for a small party. He agreed, thinking it would be a good way to see old friends.

The party was planned for the evening before I left. Our high school friends, his football team, and even some nostalgic teachers were invited for a BBQ and a celebration.

Party invitation | Source: Midjourney

Party invitation | Source: Midjourney

As the time when everyone was supposed to arrive approached, I got busy with my plan. I yanked all of Mike’s clothes into the laundry bin and dirtied them with ketchup and dirt. He wouldn’t have anything clean to wear.

Next, I put clean dishes in the sink and covered them with soap and ketchup. I made sure to mess up everything Grandma had been doing for him all this time.

Mike was lounging on the couch, oblivious. “Hey, sis, can you get me a beer?” he called out.

Mia dirties the dishes | Source: Midjourney

Mia dirties the dishes | Source: Midjourney

I rolled my eyes. “Sure, Mike,” I said sweetly. I handed him the beer, knowing chaos was about to unfold.

As the first guests started to arrive, Mike finally noticed the mess. “What the heck happened here?” he muttered, looking around the kitchen. “Grandma, did you forget to clean up?”

Grandma, who was resting in the living room, looked confused. “I’m sorry, dear. I must have missed it.”

Mike sees his dirty laundry | Source: Midjourney

Mike sees his dirty laundry | Source: Midjourney

Mike huffed and went to the laundry room. He opened the bin and saw his clothes stained and dirty. “Seriously?” he grumbled. “I have nothing to wear!”

He stormed back into the kitchen, where I was setting out snacks. “What’s going on, sis? Why is everything a mess?” he demanded.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, Mike. Maybe you should ask Grandma.”

Mike tries to tidy up his house | Source: Midjourney

Mike tries to tidy up his house | Source: Midjourney

He groaned and grabbed a dirty shirt from the bin, reluctantly putting it on. Guests started coming in, and Mike was running around in his stained clothes, trying to clean up.

“Ugh, my grandma was supposed to clean this already,” he muttered to his friend, Tom. “Because of her, I have nothing to wear!”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Dude, you’re thirty. Are you serious?” he asked, laughing.

High school friends laughing at Mike | Source: Midjourney

High school friends laughing at Mike | Source: Midjourney

Another friend, Jake, smirked. “Yeah, man. Do your own laundry. What’s wrong with you?”

Mike ignored them and kept trying to clean up. Grandma, despite her exhaustion, got up to help him. “I’m sorry, Mike. I can help now,” she said, grabbing a mop.

“You should have done this earlier, Grandma. Now everything’s ruined.”

Sad grandmother looks down | Source: Midjourney

Sad grandmother looks down | Source: Midjourney

The room fell silent as everyone watched the scene unfold. Mike’s angry speech echoed in the quiet house. “Why can’t you just do your job, Grandma?” he shouted.

People looked at him in disbelief. One of the old teachers, Mr. Parker, shook his head. “Mike, you should be ashamed. She’s your grandmother, not your maid.”

Mike’s face turned red. He looked around at the judgmental faces of his friends and family. Humiliated, he stomped upstairs and locked himself in his room.

Mad Mike | Source: Midjourney

Mad Mike | Source: Midjourney

I turned to Grandma, who looked upset. “Don’t worry, Grandma. Let’s enjoy the night,” I said, giving her a hug.

The guests slowly resumed their conversations, the awkwardness fading away. We enjoyed the BBQ, shared stories, and had a good time. Grandma finally relaxed and laughed with her old friends.

Family enjoying a barbecue | Source: Pexels

Family enjoying a barbecue | Source: Pexels

As the evening went on, I felt a sense of satisfaction. Mike needed to understand what Grandma had been going through. Hopefully, this would be a wake-up call for him to change his ways.

Grandma smiled at me. “Thank you, dear,” she said softly. “I hope he learns from this.”

Mia hugs her grandmother | Source: Midjourney

Mia hugs her grandmother | Source: Midjourney

“I think he will,” I replied, looking up at the darkened window where Mike had retreated. “He has to.”

Each babysitter resigned after encountering my husband – Curious, I concealed a nanny cam to uncover the reason

When three babysitters quit after just one day, Sarah knew something was off. Determined to figure out what was going on in her home, she set up a hidden camera, and what she discovered left her stunned.

The morning sun filtered through the kitchen window, casting a soft light on the breakfast table where Lily’s half-finished cereal bowl sat. I wiped Max’s sticky hands as he giggled, completely unaware of the frustration building up inside me.

My phone buzzed on the counter, and I didn’t even need to look to know what it was. I felt a familiar sinking feeling hit my stomach. With a sigh, I picked up the phone.

The screen flashed a message from Megan, the babysitter I had hired just yesterday.

“I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to continue working with your family. Thank you for the opportunity.”

My chest tightened as I read the words again, trying to make sense of them. Megan had been great, just like the others—kind, responsible, and so enthusiastic when I’d interviewed her. What had changed in just a day?

I leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the message. A faint clatter from the living room snapped me back to reality. Lily was busy with her toy, her little brow furrowed in concentration, while Max toddled around, laughing at his own tiny steps. They were fine, happy, even. So why did every babysitter leave after just a day or two?

I deleted Megan’s message and glanced at the clock. Julie would be here soon for our usual coffee catch-up. Maybe talking to her would help me make sense of this mess. As I tidied up the kitchen, I couldn’t shake the nagging thought creeping into my mind.

Was I doing something wrong? Was it the kids? Or was there something I just wasn’t seeing?

When Julie arrived, I greeted her with a hug, trying to hide my frustration with a smile. But as soon as we sat down with our coffees, it all came spilling out.

“I don’t get it, Julie,” I said, setting my cup down harder than I meant to. “This is the third babysitter who’s quit after just one day. They all seemed so happy when I hired them, but then they just… leave. No explanations. Nothing.”

Julie sipped her coffee, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “That’s really strange, Sarah. You’re not asking too much, are you?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. The kids are well-behaved, and I’m paying well. I just don’t get it.”

Julie leaned back, tapping her fingers lightly on her cup. “Do you think it could be… something else?”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated, then spoke carefully. “I mean, maybe it’s not the job that’s making them leave. Maybe it’s something—or someone—else in the house.”

Her words hit me like a splash of cold water. I hadn’t even thought of that. My mind immediately went to Dave, but I quickly brushed the thought aside. No, that couldn’t be it. He’d been supportive of my decision to go back to work, or at least, he’d said he was.

Still, Julie’s suggestion planted a seed of doubt. I tried to shake it off as we finished our coffee, but the thought stuck with me, gnawing at me long after she left.

I was exhausted from hiring new babysitters, only for them to quit after just one day. At first, I chalked it up to bad luck. But after the third one left, it started to feel more like a pattern. The kids wouldn’t tell me much—Lily’s five, and Max is two, so what can I expect?

I was eager to go back to work, but I couldn’t until I found someone who would actually stay. Something wasn’t adding up, and I was determined to figure it out.

By the time the clock ticked past midnight, I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to know. I wasn’t going to sit around in the dark, doubting myself or anyone else. It was time to take matters into my own hands.

The next morning, after Dave left for work, I rummaged through Max’s closet and found the old nanny cam we’d used when he was a baby. It was small, discreet, and perfect for what I needed. With shaky hands, I set it up in the living room, tucking it between some books on the shelf where it wouldn’t be noticed.

I told myself this was just for peace of mind. If nothing was wrong, then I’d have nothing to worry about. But if something—or someone—was behind all of this, I needed to see it with my own eyes.

Later that day, I hired another babysitter. Megan had seemed so promising, but I couldn’t dwell on that. This time, I went with Rachel, a sweet college student with a bright smile. She greeted the kids with so much enthusiasm, and for a moment, I let myself hope that maybe this time would be different.

But as I left the house, I didn’t head to work. Instead, I parked down the street and pulled out my phone, my heart racing as I watched the live feed from the nanny cam.

At first, everything seemed fine. Rachel was playing with the kids, and they seemed happy. But my grip tightened on the steering wheel as the minutes ticked by. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go wrong.

And then, just like clockwork, Dave came home early.

I sat in my car, eyes glued to my phone screen. Rachel was on the living room floor, playing blocks with Max. Everything seemed fine, just like it always did at first. But my gut told me to stay alert.

When Dave walked in, my heart pounded. He hung up his keys, his smile a little too casual as he greeted Rachel. “Hey there, how’s it going?”

Rachel looked up, a bit startled. “Oh, everything’s great. The kids are wonderful.”

“Good to hear,” he replied, though his voice had a forced warmth. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Rachel hesitated but nodded. They moved to the couch, and I leaned closer to the screen, anxiety tightening its grip on me.

“Look,” Dave began, his tone serious, “the kids can be a handful, especially Max. Sarah’s been struggling with postpartum depression, and it’s been tough for all of us.”

My breath caught. Postpartum depression? That wasn’t true. My hands tightened around the steering wheel as I tried to process what I was hearing.

Rachel looked concerned. “I’m so sorry to hear that. But the kids seem fine to me.”

“They are,” Dave said, “most of the time. But it can get overwhelming. If you feel like this isn’t the right fit, it’s okay to step away now before things get too complicated.”

Rachel looked down, clearly unsure of what to say. Then Dave leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “And just between us, I’ve had problems with babysitters in the past. If they don’t leave quietly, things can get… messy.”

Rachel’s face turned pale. She quickly nodded. “I understand. Maybe you’re right. I should go.”

Dave smiled, satisfied. “No hard feelings. It’s for the best.”

Rachel didn’t waste any time gathering her things and heading for the door. She barely looked at the kids as she left.

I sat in the car, stunned. Dave had been sabotaging every babysitter, driving them away with his lies and threats. And I had no idea until now.

The next morning, the air in the kitchen felt thick, heavy with the words I hadn’t said yet. The usual clatter of breakfast prep faded into the background as I stood by the sink, gripping the edge of the counter.

“Dave,” I said, breaking the silence, “we need to talk.”

He looked up, surprised. “What’s up?”

“I know what you’ve been doing,” I said quietly. “With the babysitters.”

For a split second, guilt flashed in his eyes. But he quickly hid it. “What do you mean?”

“I saw the nanny cam footage,” I replied, my voice steady but filled with hurt. “You lied to them. You made them think I couldn’t handle things. Why?”

His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “So, you were spying on me?”

I clenched the dish towel in my hands, trying to keep my anger in check. “Spying? Is that what you call it? After everything you did? You lied to them, Dave. You told them I had postpartum depression—”

“Well, you’ve been stressed—”

“No,” I interrupted, my voice rising. “Don’t twist this around. You scared them off on purpose. You made them think our home wasn’t safe, that our kids were too much to handle. And you made me think it was my fault. Why, Dave? Why would you do that?”

His calm facade cracked just a little. He glanced down at the table, his fingers tapping nervously against the wood. “I just… I thought it was better for the family if you stayed home with the kids. That’s where you’re needed, Sarah. Not out working.”

I stared at him, stunned by how easily the words came out of his mouth, as if he really believed what he was saying. “So, you decided that for me?” I asked, my voice dangerously quiet as I teared up. “You decided what was best for me without even talking to me about it?”

“I was trying to protect you,” he said defensively, though his voice had lost some of its confidence. “You’ve been overwhelmed with the kids, and I didn’t want to add more stress by having you go back to work.”

I felt a bitter laugh rise in my throat, but I forced it down. “Protect me? By lying to me? By manipulating every attempt I made to get back to work? That’s not protection, Dave. That’s control.”

He looked at me, his expression hardening. “I’m doing what’s best for the kids.”

“And what about what’s best for me?” I shot back. “Don’t I get a say in that? I’m their mother, but I’m also more than that. I love our kids, but I need to have my own life too. You don’t get to take that away from me.”

The kitchen suddenly felt too small, the air too thick, as we stood there in silence, my words hanging between us. I could see the stubbornness in his eyes, the refusal to admit he’d been wrong. But I also saw the cracks in his resolve, the guilt he couldn’t quite hide.

“I don’t know what happens next,” I said finally, my voice softer now but still firm. “But I can’t stay here, not like this. I need time to think.”

“Sarah, don’t do this,” he said, his tone suddenly pleading. “I never meant to hurt you.”

I looked at him, my heart heavy, but my decision was made. “I know you didn’t. But you did.”

Silence hung in the air as I turned and walked out of the kitchen, my mind made up. I couldn’t stay here, not like this. As I packed a bag for the kids and me, I felt a mix of sadness and relief. The future was uncertain, but at least now, I was taking control.

If this story pulled you in, you’ll love the next one. It’s about a husband who thought he had everything covered—until his wife checked his car and found something that changed everything. Click here to see what she discovered.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*