When my sister-in-law Candace offered to host my kids for a week at her mansion, I thought it was a dream come true. A pool, games, endless treats—it sounded like summer magic. I even gave Candace’s daughter some cash to keep things fair, kissed my kids goodbye, and drove home smiling.
But three days passed without a single text or call. Finally, I got a chilling message from my daughter: “Mom, come save us. Aunt took away our phones.” My heart dropped. I raced to Candace’s house, praying it was nothing serious.
What I saw left me stunned. My son was scrubbing the pool, my daughter dragging garbage bags, while Candace’s daughter lounged like royalty. A clipboard listed chores: laundry, dishes, bathrooms, even prepping barbecues—for “pool access.” My kids looked exhausted.
I packed them up immediately, took back their locked phones, and left without another word. The next morning, I sent Candace an invoice for $600 of “child labor.” She paid within an hour. I used every cent to take my kids to an amusement park, where they finally laughed, ate cotton candy, and felt like kids again.
That summer, my children didn’t just learn responsibility—they learned their mom will always protect them, and that no one gets to steal their childhood.
