When my carefree sister Jessica asked me to her upstate vacation house, I quickly said yes. Once I arrived, it didn’t take long for me to realize that Jessica had duped me into looking after my energetic nephew while she went off to party. I soon came up with a way to make her pay.
I was sitting on my couch, nursing a glass of wine after yet another grueling day at the office, when my phone buzzed. My younger sister’s name flashed on the screen.
A woman smiling at her phone | Source: Pexels
I hadn’t heard from Jessica in weeks, so I picked up, curious about what she wanted.
“Anna! How’s my favorite sister doing?” Jessica’s voice was bright and bubbly, the exact opposite of how I felt.
“Exhausted,” I replied, not bothering to hide the weariness in my voice. “Work’s been insane. What’s up?”
“I have the perfect solution for you,” she chirped. “How about a week at my upstate vacation house? You need a break, and you know this is the perfect place for some chill time!”
A woman on a phone call | Source: Pexels
A week away sounded like heaven. The idea of lounging on a porch, sipping coffee, and catching up with my carefree sister was just what I needed. I could almost feel the stress melting away at the thought.
“That sounds amazing, Jess,” I said, feeling a smile spread across my face for the first time in days. “I’ll take some time off and drive up this weekend.”
“Great! I’ll get everything ready. You just bring yourself and some comfy clothes,” she said, her excitement palpable. “It’s going to be the best week ever, I promise!”
A woman speaking on the phone | Source: Pexels
The five-hour drive upstate was filled with daydreams of relaxation. I imagined Jessica and me sitting on the porch, reminiscing about our childhood, and maybe even getting some much-needed sisterly advice.
As I pulled into the driveway of the charming vacation house, my spirits were high. But then, as I parked and stepped out of the car, I noticed something that made my heart sink.
Jessica was there, but she wasn’t alone. Tommy, her three-year-old son, was clinging to her leg, looking as adorable and energetic as ever.
A toddler boy | Source: Pexels
“Anna, you’re here!” Jessica called out, a little too cheerfully. “I was starting to think you’d never arrive!”
I forced a smile. “Hey, Jess. I see you brought the little man along… I thought this was going to be a sisters-only thing?”
“Oh, I don’t know how you got that idea!” she said, flashing me a charming grin. “Now, I’d best get moving! My friends are already waiting in town.”
“What?” I frowned at her as she breezed past me and unlocked her car in the garage. “You’re leaving?”
A woman standing beside a car | Source: Pexels
“Yes, sweetie! My girlfriends have been waiting for half an hour! I really thought you’d get here sooner.”
My jaw dropped. I could do nothing but stare as she backed her car out of the garage, winding down her window when she drew level with me.
“Now, Tommy’s snacks are in the fridge, and there are some movies to keep him entertained. I’ll be back by the end of the week. Thanks, sis, you’re a lifesaver!”
And just like that, she was gone. I stood there, stunned, watching her car disappear down the road.
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
The weight of realization hit me like a ton of bricks: I’d been tricked into babysitting. I felt a surge of anger mixed with a pang of betrayal. This was supposed to be my getaway, my time to relax and recharge. Instead, I was now responsible for a toddler for an entire week.
Tommy, oblivious to the turmoil swirling inside me, tugged at my hand. “Auntie Anna, can we play?”
I looked down at his eager little face and sighed. “Sure, buddy. Let’s go inside and see what we can find.”
A little boy | Source: Midjourney
I mulled over the situation I now found myself in while playing cars with Tommy on the living room carpet. It wasn’t that I minded babysitting my nephew, but not like this!
Despite my initial resentment, Tommy’s infectious energy and innocent charm quickly started to melt my heart. We spent the first day exploring the house, playing games, and watching his favorite cartoons.
As the days passed, we ventured outside, hiking through the nearby woods, building forts with fallen branches, and reading bedtime stories that made him giggle.
A boy running through a wooded area | Source: Pexels
One night, after Tommy had fallen asleep, I sat on the porch, staring out into the dark, star-filled sky. The anger I felt towards Jessica still simmered, but it was mixed with a new sense of clarity.
I loved my nephew, and I didn’t want to let him down. But I also knew I couldn’t let Jessica get away with this. She’d taken advantage of me in a way that was inexcusable.
I toyed with the idea of letting Tommy run wild, maybe even encouraging him to wreak havoc. It would be easy enough—toddlers are little chaos machines by nature.
A thoughtful woman | Source: Pexels
But that wasn’t me. I couldn’t let Tommy pay for his mother’s irresponsibility. Then it hit me. I’d make Jessica understand the true cost of her actions.
I grabbed my laptop and started researching professional childcare rates, jotting down numbers, and crafting an invoice that would make Jessica’s head spin.
By the end of the week, I was ready for Jess with a detailed invoice, complete with itemized charges for childcare, meals, and entertainment. The total was staggering but fair.
A woman using her laptop | Source: Pexels
Jessica’s car rolled up the driveway just as the sun was setting. She stepped out, looking refreshed and happy, as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
“Anna! You’re a saint for doing this. I hope Tommy wasn’t too much trouble,” she said, flashing a carefree smile.
I took a deep breath and forced a calm smile. “Hey, Jess. Tommy was great. But we need to talk.”
“Sure, honey.” She gave an exaggerated yawn. “But not now. Let’s catch up in the morning.”
A smiling, carefree woman | Source: Pexels
She started to breeze past me, but I blocked her off and gave her a stern look. “No, Jess. We need to talk now.”
Jessica’s smile faltered for a moment, then she laughed it off. “Oh, come on, Anna. Lighten up. You’re being such a grouch.”
I handed her the invoice without a word. Jessica’s eyes scanned the paper, her expression shifting from confusion to shock.
“What the hell is this?” she asked, her voice tinged with incredulity.
Two women speaking in a hallway | Source: Midjourney
“That’s what it would cost if you’d hired a professional to watch Tommy for the week,” I said evenly. “I think it’s only fair, considering you dumped him on me without any notice.”
Jessica laughed, a high, nervous sound. “You can’t be serious. We’re family! You’re his aunt, for crying out loud.”
I crossed my arms and met her gaze steadily. “I love Tommy, and I’m happy to spend time with him. But you used me, Jess. You took advantage of my need for a break and tricked me into babysitting. That’s not fair, and it’s not right.”
Two women having a heated discussion | Source: Midjourney
Jessica’s face flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” she muttered, but I could see the gears turning in her head. She knew she was in the wrong.
“Stop acting so innocent when you know you messed up, Jessica.” I lowered my voice to a menacing tone as I continued, “You can’t treat people like this, especially the ones who love you.”
She stood there, silent, for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she sighed and pulled out her checkbook.
A tense woman | Source: Pexels
I watched as she wrote the check, her hand trembling slightly. She handed it to me, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of remorse in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Anna. I didn’t realize… I didn’t think.”
I took the check and gave her a small nod. “Thank you. I hope this helps you understand.”
As I drove away, I felt a mix of satisfaction and relief. I had stood up for myself and set boundaries, something I rarely did. The drive home was peaceful, the weight of the past week lifting with every mile.
A woman driving her car | Source: Pexels
In the weeks that followed, Jessica began to change. She called me more often, not just to gossip or borrow money, but to genuinely ask how I was doing. She started taking more responsibility for her actions.
One afternoon, I received a package from her. Inside was a handwritten note and a framed photo of Tommy and me, taken when we all gathered at her place last Fourth of July. The note read:
“Anna, thank you for everything. I’ve learned a lot from this experience. I’m trying to be better, for Tommy and for you.
Love, Jess.”
A thoughtful woman | Source: Pexels
I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me. The experience had strengthened my sense of self-worth and set a new precedent for our relationship. We both had grown, learning valuable lessons about family, respect, and responsibility.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress. And that was enough.
I Received a Panicked Video Message from My Mom — I Was Stunned to Learn What Dad Had Done to Her.
While Annie is having a lazy Saturday, sitting around and scrolling through social media, a video message from her mom pops up. As she hits play, Annie discovers that one of her father’s pranks has left her mother scared and alone. Annie rushes over to her parents’ house, ready to teach her father a lesson.
I didn’t think my dad would ever take one of his dumb jokes this far, but here we are, having lived through it. My phone lit up earlier today with a video message from my mom that made my heart stop for a second.
I wasn’t prepared for what I saw, and now, hours later, I’m still trying to process the whole thing.
Let me back up a second and give you some context on how everything went down. My dad is what you’d call “old school.” He has this grumpy exterior, like he came straight out of the 1970s and never quite adapted to life in the present.
He’s not a bad guy, but he can be ridiculously difficult to get along with. He doesn’t do heart-to-hearts or deep conversations. Instead, he sheds part of his grumpiness off when he’s at home and leans into his pranking nature. They are harmless, annoying little pranks that he thinks are hilarious but leave my mom rolling her eyes and sighing.
Most of the time, Dad does really stupid stuff like hiding Mom’s glasses when she’s looking for them or misplacing her keys right when she’s about to leave. These pranks have always been annoying, but nothing too wild.
Except today.
Today, Dad decided to really outdo himself.
I was in my little apartment about 20 minutes from my parents’ house. I was minding my own business, sipping on a soft drink and scrolling through TikTok, when my phone pinged with a message from my mother.
A video message.
The thumbnail was black, and all I could hear was her voice, which was muffled and kind of shaky. Like she was afraid of something.
That’s when I got a bit panicked. Mom wasn’t the type to send video messages. To be honest, I didn’t think she knew how to do it. Immediately, I knew that something was off.
I tapped play, and there she was. The camera was all shaky, and she was crouched in a corner, whispering like she was about to be caught by someone or something.
“Annie,” she breathed into the phone. “Sweetheart, your dad… he locked me in the basement. Can you come help me? He thinks this is funny. All because he wanted to eat in peace. I think there are rats or mice in the basement, Annie. Come quickly.”
What. The. Hell.
I was so shocked, I nearly dropped my phone onto the floor. Locked in the basement? He locked her in the basement? And it was supposed to be funny?
My dad, in all his “wisdom,” had apparently decided that the best way to enjoy his dinner in peace was to lock my mother in the basement. Just so that she wouldn’t remind him to eat his veggies during a precious football game? He truly didn’t care about his cholesterol.
I called her back immediately, but it went straight to voicemail.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up!” I muttered.
My brain went straight into overdrive. My mom never asked for help unless things were way beyond something she could do for herself. She was a woman who could handle herself. I mean, she’s lived with my father for years, so that had to count for something. But she was also a woman who was deeply afraid of the dark and confined places.
So now, she was locked in the basement and not answering her phone. Dad had really crossed a line with this one.
I texted her, but there was no response.
“Maybe her phone died, Annie,” I told myself. “She must be so afraid… and livid.”
I knew I had to get to her as soon as possible.
I grabbed my keys and bolted out of my apartment. I live about twenty minutes away from my parents, but I swear, I made it in twelve.
The entire drive, I was fuming, and I already knew how this was going to end. My dad thought he was clever, but if there’s one thing I inherited from him, other than his eye color, it’s the ability to come up with a solid revenge plan.
“I can’t believe the nerve of this man,” I said to myself as I turned into our street.
When I got to the house, I didn’t even bother knocking. I had my spare key, so I let myself in. As soon as I stepped inside, I could hear the muffled sound of the TV blaring from the living room.
Classic Dad.
He was probably sitting there, stuffing his face with steak. It was a home routine—Saturdays meant steak for dinner. Little did he know, I was about to teach him a lesson, too.
I headed straight for the basement. Sure enough, the door was locked, but the key hung from the hook next to the door.
I knocked softly, and Mom’s relieved voice came through the wood.
“Honey, is that you?” she whispered.
“Yeah, it’s me, Mom,” I said. “Hang tight, we’re getting you out of there.”
I unlocked the door, and when my mother stepped out, she didn’t even look mad. She just looked tired. But there was a glint in her eye, like she wanted to get revenge on my father, too.
“Dad’s still in the living room,” I said. “He didn’t even hear me come in.”
“Oh? He’s still enjoying his victory, then?”
“Yeah, well, that’s going to be short-lived, Mom,” I said.
There’s one thing about my father: he loves his “throne.” It’s a ridiculous electric recliner that he spent way too much money on a few years ago. He loves it more than any person in the world, which is sad and pathetic, but true.
The chair has heated seats, a massage feature, and even USB ports. He treats it like it’s something sacred in our home.
Naturally, I aimed my revenge at it.
I told my mom the plan, and she laughed nervously. We crept toward the living room where Dad was zoned out, still glued to his game, digging into his dinner.
I quietly unplugged his precious chair from the wall. And the best part? This man didn’t even notice a thing. Then, with my mom watching, I pulled a little tube of super glue that I had taken from the kitchen.
I smeared it over the chair’s buttons, still absolutely perplexed that my father didn’t register that I was in the room, right next to him.
After that, Mom and I went back to the kitchen. We sat on the bar stools in silence as Mom opened a tub of cookies for us to nibble on.
Ten minutes later, the game went to half-time. We could hear Dad shift in his chair and he tried to press the recline button. Nothing happened. He frowned and pressed it again, harder this time.
Still nothing.
“What the heck?” he grumbled, fiddling with the controls. Then, I saw it. The moment when the realization hit him.
He started pulling at the armrests, trying to get up, but his hands were stuck. His face turned from confusion to full-on panic.
“What’s wrong, Frank?” Mom asked, strolling into the living room.
“The darn chair is broken!” he complained.
“Oh, really? Maybe because you overuse it. But wasn’t it fine before you locked me in the basement?” Mom asked.
My father’s eyes widened.
“You didn’t… Wait! How did you get out?” he asked.
“Annie,” Mom said simply.
I stepped out from my spot in the kitchen, where I had been recording their conversation.
“Smile for the camera, Dad,” I said. “This is going in the family group chat!”
“You wouldn’t dare, Annie!” he barked at me, tugging helplessly at his stuck hands.
“Oh, but I would,” I said.
I pressed send, and the replies started rolling in soon. If there was one thing my father hated, it was being seen beyond his usual façade. He didn’t want people to see the real him. And this was him, an ugly person.
“I’m taking Mom home with me for the rest of the weekend,” I said. “You can figure out how to get yourself off your throne.”
Mom went upstairs to pack herself an overnight bag. I didn’t want to leave her with Dad. But I doubt he’ll be locking anyone in the basement anytime soon.
What would you have done?
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