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
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
“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
“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
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
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, 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
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
“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
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
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
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 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
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
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
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
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
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
“I think he will,” I replied, looking up at the darkened window where Mike had retreated. “He has to.”
I Married My Childhood Friend – He Told Me His Family’s Secret on Our Wedding Night & It Almost Ruined My Life
After marrying my childhood sweetheart, I thought our happily ever after had finally begun. That was until he handed me a notebook filled with his mother’s secrets.
I didn’t expect to run into Michael that morning. I was just grabbing my usual coffee, walking down Main Street in our old hometown, when I spotted him. Tall, familiar, with a hint of gray in his hair, he was standing outside the coffee shop we used to go to after school.
A man with a book in a cafe | Source: Pexels
“Michael?” I called out, almost in disbelief.
He turned, and for a second, he just stared. Then, a big grin spread across his face. “Is that really you?” he said, his voice warm, just like I remembered. “I never thought I’d see you around here again!”
“Same here!” I laughed. “What are the odds?”
A couple holding hands on a date | Source: Pexels
We decided to grab coffee together, just like old times. Inside the shop, everything felt like it had back then. The old wood counters and the smell of fresh pastries. It was almost like time had rewound itself.
We chatted for hours that day, catching up on everything and nothing. We laughed over old stories, like the time we both got lost on a hike or how we’d leave each other notes in history class. The hours melted away.
A couple on a date | Source: Midjourney
Coffee turned into lunch, lunch turned into long walks, and before we knew it, we were calling each other every day. There was something so easy, so natural about being around him.
A few months later, Michael proposed. It was simple, just him and me, sitting by the lake one evening.
“I don’t want to waste any more time,” he said, his voice steady but full of emotion. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Will you marry me?”
A marriage proposal | Source: Pexels
I didn’t hesitate for a second. “Yes,” I whispered, tears filling my eyes. Two months later, we tied the knot.
After the wedding, we drove to his family home, where we’d spent many afternoons as kids. The house hadn’t changed a bit. Even the wallpaper in the hallway was the same, and the old oak tree in the yard was still there.
A small house | Source: Pexels
Later that evening, after I’d freshened up, I came back to find Michael sitting on the edge of the bed, looking… different. His usual easy smile was gone. He was holding a small, worn notebook in his hands.
“Michael?” I asked, sitting down beside him. “Is everything okay?”
A nervous man | Source: Pexels
He didn’t look at me right away. His eyes were on the notebook, fingers tracing the edge. “There’s… something I need to tell you.”
The tone of his voice sent a chill down my spine. “What is it?”
He took a deep breath, finally meeting my gaze. “This notebook is my mom’s,” he said quietly. “She kept notes… about our family. About something she thought was important.”
A worn notebook | Source: Pexels
“Okay…” I said slowly, not quite understanding.
He handed it to me, and I opened it. Pages and pages of neat, looping handwriting filled every page. “My family has this… belief,” he began. “A curse, actually. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but they believe it’s real.”
“A curse?” I asked, eyebrows raised, trying to hide my skepticism.
A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney
He nodded. “My mom says that any woman who marries into the family… is cursed with bad luck. Tragedy. Pain. It’s happened for generations, or so she says.”
I almost laughed but stopped myself when I saw the worry in his eyes. “Michael, you don’t really believe this, do you?”
A worried man | Source: Pexels
He ran a hand through his hair, looking torn. “I don’t know. I’ve always told myself it’s just an old family superstition. But… I’ve seen things, you know? My dad’s marriage to my mom wasn’t exactly smooth. My uncle — well, let’s just say things ended badly for him, too.”
I took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Look, that doesn’t mean anything. Marriages are hard for a lot of people.”
Woman holding a man’s hand | Source: Pexels
He gave a faint smile, but his eyes still looked troubled. “Maybe you’re right,” he said, though he didn’t sound convinced.
A week after the wedding, small misfortunes began to pile up. First, it was a flat tire right before we departed for our honeymoon, leaving us unable to drive anywhere.
“Just bad luck,” I told him, forcing a laugh.
A flat tire | Source: Pexels
Back home, things took a strange turn. The business I’d spent years building started losing clients. A string of bad reviews appeared online, some from people I’d never even worked with. I tried everything to fix it, but nothing seemed to help. It felt like someone had cursed my work.
Then, someone broke into our house. Nothing important or valuable was stolen, but the psychological damage was done.
A man picking a lock | Source: Freepik
Michael noticed, too. “You think this… this curse could be real?” he asked one night, his voice low.
“Of course not,” I replied quickly, though I was starting to doubt myself. “There has to be an explanation for all of this. Maybe it’s just… I don’t know… a phase.”
The turning point came just before Thanksgiving. Michael’s mother insisted we host the holiday at our home. We chatted on the phone about the menu, and she seemed in good spirits.
A woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels
After the call, I placed my phone down on the couch and picked up a book, settling in to read. But as I turned the page, I heard voices. The phone was still connected.
“Do you really think this curse nonsense is still working?” Michael’s father asked her, sounding exasperated.
Without thinking, I immediately pressed the record button.
A serious woman on her phone | Source: Pexels
She laughed. “It works every time. Look at her! Her business is already struggling, and Michael is so wrapped up in worry he can hardly think straight. And I will put an end to this when I ruin her turkey.”
“Enough, Marianne,” he replied. “You’ve already scared off enough good women from our sons.”
“If they aren’t right for my boys, I’ll do what I have to,” she said, her tone cold. “I know what’s best for them.”
Mature couple talking | Source: Pexels
My stomach turned. I ended the call, feeling numb, replaying her words in my mind. All those strange things — the flat tire, the bad reviews — they were her doing. There was no curse. It was all a lie, a twisted trick to control her sons and their wives.
That night, I sat across from Michael, clutching my phone with trembling hands. “Michael,” I began, “there’s something I need you to hear.”
A woman talking to her husband | Source: Freepik
He looked at me, his brows knitted in concern. “What’s wrong?”
I pressed play, and his mother’s voice filled the room.
Michael looked stunned, his eyes darting from the phone to me as he tried to process what he’d heard. “This… this has to be a mistake,” he stammered, the disbelief thick in his voice. “She wouldn’t… my mother would never—”
A shocked man looking at his phone | Source: Pexels
I took his hand. “Michael, I overheard the whole thing. She’s been trying to break us apart.”
Finally, he looked at me, his face set with determination. “I need to hear it from her. I need to hear the truth, from both of them.”
We arrived at his parents’ house late that night. Michael’s father opened the door, looking surprised to see us. “Michael, is everything alright?”
A surprised man | Source: Pexels
Michael pushed past him, his face pale with anger. “Where’s Mom?”
His father’s face fell, and he took a step back. “Michael, please, calm down.”
“I am calm,” he said, his voice strained. “But I need answers, Dad.”
Marianne looked taken aback, her eyes flicking to her husband, who wouldn’t meet her gaze. “What are you talking about?”
A surprised elderly woman | Source: Pexels
Michael held up my phone. “I heard you, Mom. You and Dad, talking about the curse. Talking about how you’ve been… interfering. Scaring off women, making them think they’re cursed.”
Her face went from feigned confusion to a hard, calculating expression. “Michael, I don’t know what you think you heard, but—”
“You know what you said, Marianne,” his father interrupted quietly, stepping forward. “There’s no point denying it.”
An angry elderly man | Source: Pexels
She whirled on him, her eyes flashing. “Don’t you dare!”
“Don’t I dare?” His father shook his head, looking tired and worn down. “I’ve kept my mouth shut for years. Watched you chase off every woman Michael or his brothers ever loved. Watched you lie, sabotage, play with people’s lives just because you thought you knew what was best. It’s gone on long enough.”
An elderly couple arguing | Source: Midjourney
Michael’s face crumpled as he looked from his father to his mother. “So it’s true?” he whispered. “All of it?”
Tears began streaming down her face. “I did it because I love you, Michael.”
He took a step back, shaking his head. “This isn’t love. This is control.”
A heavy silence fell over the room. His father spoke next, his voice weary. “Michael, I’ve tried to reason with her, believe me. But she’s… she believes she’s doing the right thing.”
A frustrated elderly man | Source: Pexels
Michael turned to his father, his voice full of hurt. “And you let her do this? All these years?”
His father looked down. “I was afraid of losing my family. I thought maybe one day, she’d stop. That you’d be strong enough to… break free from it.”
Michael turned silent. Taking my hand, he led me to the door. Outside, he looked up at the stars, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He glanced over at me, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry. For all of it.”
A sad man looking at the skies | Source: Pexels
I squeezed his hand. “We’re free now, Michael. That’s all that matters.”
But as we walked to the car, I felt the weight of the past, the sadness of a family broken by secrets and a mother’s misguided attempts at love. Michael’s heart would take time to heal, but we were leaving the curse and his mother behind.
Holding hands | Source: Pexels
Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: Colleen believed she knew everything about her husband until she accidentally overheard his therapy session. Michael’s startling confession revealed his darkest secrets, destroying their 12-year marriage and leaving Colleen to pick up the shattered pieces of their family…
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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