A teenage boy demands that his parents pay him for doing his household chores and learns a painful lesson.
Wesley pushed his plate away. “I’m sick of meatloaf,” he complained. “Can’t you make anything else?” he asked his mother.
His mom looked at him indignantly. “We had roast chicken yesterday, hamburgers the day before, fish on Friday…”
Wesley sniffed derisively. “Yeah, yeah…Whatever!” and got up from the table.
“Wesley,” said his mother. “Please rinse your plate and put it in the dishwasher.”
“Why should I?” asked Wesley with typical teen arrogance. “I’m not your slave!”
Price list for chores | Source: AmoMedia.com
“My slave?” gasped his mother, “How can helping out make you my slave?”
“You don’t pay me, do you?” asked Wesley triumphantly. “Work without pay is slavery!”
Wesley’s dad frowned. “We support you, son,” he pointed out. “We house you, feed you, clothe you, and educate you…”
“That’s your duty and my right!” said Wesley. “And the law says you have to do it too, but I don’t have to do a thing!”
Wesley’s mom changed color. “I see! So we have duties and you have rights? Is that what you believe? What about your duty to help, to do your chores?”
“I’m not your slave,” repeated Wesley arrogantly. “If you want me to do things around here, you’d better pay me!”
A rebellious teen | Source: Pexels
Wesley’s mom jumped up but his father laid a gently restraining hand on her arm. “Pay you?” asked the father calmly. “And how much would you want for doing your chores?”
Wesley smiled triumphantly. “I’ve thought about that. For taking out the trash, $1, for washing dishes, $2, walking the dog, $4, cleaning my room, $5, and for cleaning the yard and mowing the lawn, $10. And you’re lucky I’m not demanding back pay.”
“Never!” cried Wesley’s mom angrily, but his father smiled calmly.
“I agree, Wesley. We will pay you for your work according to your demands. From now on you are a man, and we will treat you as such.”
Wesley puffed out his chest. “It’s about time you showed me some respect!” he crowed, and his mother opened her mouth to utter an angry retort. Once again Wesley’s dad smiled sweetly and restrained her.
Angry mother | Source: Unsplash
“Well, son, we start tomorrow, OK? I’ll put up a chart with your chores, and you write down what you’ve done on a daily basis. At the end of each week, say Friday afternoons, you get paid. What do you think?”
Wesley smiled happily. “That’s just perfect, dad!” Wesley walked out feeling on top of the world, without realizing he was about to have one of the worse weeks of his life.
A family works as a unit to make their collective lives better.
Wesley’s mom turned to his father. “Rick, how could you? He’s disrespectful, lazy, and greedy. He needs to learn,…”
Rick was smiling, and it wasn’t a nice smile. “Don’t worry, Martha, I have a plan, and our dear little boy is in for a very unpleasant experience. We’re going to teach him a lesson!”
The next day, Wesley walked into the house after football practice. It had been a long day at school and he was starving. “Hey mom!” he said. “What’s for dinner?”
Making a price list for his chores | Source: Pexels
“Turkey pot-pie with sweet potatoes and peas,” his mother said smiling sweetly.
“Cool!” cried Wesley. “I’m starving!” He saw that his dad had put up a chart on the wall and he immediately walked over and filled in walking the dog and cleaning his room. Later he would take out the trash.
That’s $9 already, though Wesley happily. I’m going to be rich! An hour later the scent of the food lured him down to the kitchen again where he found his mother and his father having dinner.
“Mom!” he cried indignantly. “You didn’t call me and I told you I was starving!”
Wesley’s mom smiled, and his father replied: “But Wesley, now that you are earning your own money, you will have to support yourself. If you want your mother to cook for you, you will have to pay her.”
“PAY HER?” screamed Wesley, “I’m not going to pay her!”
Walking the dog | Source: Unsplash
“Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to dip into your savings and order take away, then.” Wesley’s mother said still smiling.
“But…but…That’s not fair!” screamed Wesley and stormed upstairs. He ordered a pizza and it cost him $15 plus the delivery fee and the tip. Wesley worked out that he’d have to work three whole days to pay for that pizza. Being an independent man was expensive!
The next morning he came down for breakfast to find his mother making bacon and eggs and it smelled delicious. “Hi mom,” he said sweetly, “can I have my eggs over easy?”
“Sure, son!” she smiled. “That will be $6 for breakfast!”
“You’re charging me for breakfast?” cried Wesley angrily. “That’s not fair!”
But Wesley was in for another surprise. “Dad,” Wesley said, “our coach said we have to have new team jerseys and it will cost $69,99.”
Cleaning up his room | Source: Unsplash
“I see,” said his dad smiling. “But why are you telling me this?”
“Well, so you can give me the money!” said Wesley.
“But, Wesley,” his dad said, still smiling, “now that you’re earning money, you pay for your own expenses, and that includes clothes. I thought you knew that.”
“I don’t have that kind of money!” cried Wesley. “Where am I supposed to get $70?”
“Save it up from your what you earn, of course. It’s what we do!” dad said.
Wesley was stunned. Not only would he have to feed himself, but he’d also have to buy his own clothes? This wasn’t what he’d imagined when he’d demanded payment for his chores. “Well, OK,” he said. “Listen, dad, could you give me a ride to school? I’m a bit late…”
Nothing for dinner | Source: Unsplash
“Sure, son!” his dad smiled. “That will be $5.50.”
“You’re going to charge me for a ride to school?” Wesley gasped.
“Sure, after all, you’d pay a taxi, wouldn’t you?” his dad pointed out reasonably.
“But you’re my DAD!” cried Wesley. “And you’re charging me?”
“Oh Wesley, dear,” said his mother sweetly. “That reminds me! That will be $12.50 for washing and ironing your clothes.”
Wesley walked to school and was late. At lunchtime, he ate the cafeteria food with great gusto. He wondered when he’d taste his mother’s meatloaf again, or her mac and cheese, or her amazing Irish stew…
Boy runs out of money | Source: Unsplash
That night, Wesley came down at dinnertime looking despondent. His parents were having dinner and it smelled delicious. Wesley’s stomach rumbled. “Mom, dad?” he said quietly. “Can we talk?”
“Sure son,” said his father. “What’s on your mind?”
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry about that payment thing. I guess I never thought about everything you two do for me every day, and you never ask for anything in return.”
“We were hoping you’d realize that, Wesley. Everything we do for you, we do out of love, not obligation or duty,” his mother said.
“I know, mom, I’m so sorry,” Wesley whispered, and his eyes filled with tears.
Wesley’s dad got up and put his arms around him. “Son, in this family we do all we can to help each other, to make all our lives easier and better. That’s what being a family is all about, and we were hoping you’d understand that.”
Boy apologizes to his parents | Source: Pexels
Wesley’s mom gave him a hug too and said, “So how about some dinner? I made cottage pie and green beans — your favorite!”
That night, Wesley had one of the nicest evenings ever with his parents, and he learned one of the most important lessons: to appreciate all that his parents do for him and to do his part in helping his family.
What can we learn from this story?
1. Love doesn’t demand payment.
2. A family works as a unit to make their collective lives better.
Share this story with your friends. It might inspire people to share their own stories or to help someone else.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a spoiled rich girl who leaves her restaurant bill unpaid and learns a painful lesson.
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On Valentine’s Day, I Woke up to Find My Car Covered in Paper Hearts — It Looked Cute Until I Picked One up and Read the Message
On Valentine’s Day morning, Kate stepped outside expecting a sweet surprise. Her car was covered in hundreds of pink paper hearts, fluttering in the wind like a love-struck teenager’s confession. But when she picked one up and read the message, her stomach dropped. This wasn’t love. It was a warning.
I woke up that morning just like any other, slipping out of bed while Brandon remained curled under the blankets.
A man sleeping in his bed | Source: Pexels
After 28 years of living together as a married couple, our lives had settled into a predictable rhythm. I always woke up early, made coffee, prepared breakfast for our 17-year-old son, and enjoyed a few quiet moments before the day fully began.
Valentine’s Day wasn’t a big deal in our house. It never really had been. Boredom had long replaced passion, and grand romantic gestures had never been Brandon’s thing.
So, when I glanced outside and saw my car covered in paper hearts that morning, I actually gasped.
A car covered in hearts | Source: Midjourney
For a brief, stupid moment, my heart swelled.
Had he done this? After all these years?
My heart pounded against my chest as I stepped outside. The sight was almost ridiculous.
Hundreds of pink paper hearts were plastered all over my car’s doors and windows. There were even some stuck on the mirrors. It honestly looked like the car belonged to some teenage romance movie, like my teenage boyfriend was trying his best to impress me.
I smiled, thinking my husband had finally decided to surprise me after nearly three decades together.
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
Excited, I walked toward my car to take a closer look and realized that every heart had a note inside.
Wow, that’s a brilliant idea! I thought.
Then I picked one up and read the message underneath. I stared at it for a few seconds, unable to understand why my husband would write such a thing.
It read, Your husband is a liar.
Was this some kind of a prank? A joke?
A close-up shot of a woman’s face | Source: Midjourney
I felt my heart skip a beat as I ripped off another paper heart.
It read, Brandon only loves me.
Another.
He’ll never tell you the truth.
I felt a knot in my stomach and my heart almost flipped inside my chest. I quickly grabbed the hearts and yanked them away as fast as I could.
One by one, they revealed the same kind of message.
You deserve to know.
He was with me last night.
Ask him about the woman he’s been seeing.
A woman holding a paper heart | Source: Midjourney
I tried pulling the hearts off faster, but the glue was thick, stubborn, and far stronger than expected. It completely ruined the look of my car. Every time I yanked one away, it left behind an ugly smear of adhesive on my pristine car.
Soon, neighbors started peeking from their windows. I could feel their eyes on me as they whispered amongst themselves.
They had seen this before I had.
They had already put the pieces together before I even had a chance to process what was happening.
A neighbor peeking out of her window | Source: Midjourney
I swallowed, forcing myself to look up at my house, and saw Brandon at the window. He had been silently watching me all this time.
I turned back to the car as I pulled one last paper heart.
It read, He’ll never choose you.
The words blurred as tears filled my eyes.
Happy Valentine’s Day to me.
I quickly rushed back into my house and slammed the door behind me.
A doorknob | Source: Pexels
My pulse pounded in my ears as I marched straight to the kitchen. I found Brandon sitting at the counter, scrolling through his phone like nothing had happened.
I threw one of the paper hearts onto the counter.
“What the hell is this, Brandon?” I asked in a shaky voice.
I couldn’t even speak properly because of how angry I felt.
He barely glanced at the paper before looking at me.
“What are you talking about? I don’t know who did this.”
A man sitting in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“Seriously, Brandon?” I let out a bitter laugh. “You saw me from the window, right? All those hearts on my car… they’re talking about you and some woman you’re seeing. And you’re saying you really don’t know who did this?”
Brandon picked one of the hearts and read the message inside before putting it back down.
“It’s probably a prank,” he said as he sipped his coffee. “Must be some stupid kids messing around.”
Liar.
I knew that tone. That measured, even voice he used when he wanted me to second-guess myself. The same one he had used in every minor argument over the years, making me feel like I was overreacting.
But not this time.
A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney
I turned away from him and stomped toward the security monitor in the living room. My fingers flew over the controls as I rewound the footage from the night before.
And there she was.
Linda.
Our neighbor.
At 3 a.m., under the dim glow of the streetlights, she was gluing those damn hearts onto my car.
What the heck? I thought. Brandon and Linda? They’re together? How is this even possible?
A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels
My throat tightened as I recalled every moment when I saw Linda standing outside her house as Brandon left for work. She’d been our neighbor for as long as I could remember, but I never once suspected Brandon had an affair with her.
If my husband wasn’t going to tell me anything, then there was only one thing I could do. Confront Linda.
I immediately stormed next door and banged on her door so hard it rattled.
A few seconds later, it swung open, revealing Linda’s face. It looked like she’d been crying. Like she already knew why I was there.
A woman standing in the doorway | Source: Midjourney
“How long?” I asked calmly.
Linda swallowed hard, her lip trembling. “Twenty years.”
The ground beneath me felt unsteady.
I shook my head. “You’re lying.”
She let out a sad, breathy laugh. “I wish I was.”
I stared at her, hoping she’d take her words back and say it was all some kind of an elaborate joke.
But instead, she spoke again.
A woman talking to her neighbor | Source: Midjourney
“He told me he’d leave you. Over and over again, for two whole decades. He just needed the right moment. He told me you weren’t well… that you couldn’t handle a divorce. That he had to stay because he felt sorry for you. I can prove it.”
I couldn’t process her words. I couldn’t believe my husband had spent twenty years living a double life.
How was I not able to see it?
I rushed back home without saying a word. It was time to confront Brandon before I asked her for proof.
He was sitting in the living room, scrolling through his phone again.
A man using his phone | Source: Pexels
“Linda just told me everything,” I said, crossing my arms while looking straight into his eyes.
“She’s lying,” he said. “She’s obsessed with me. She’s been coming on to me for years, but I never—”
“Prove it,” I cut him off.
“What?”
“Prove it,” I repeated, stepping closer. “Because it looks like she’s got twenty years’ worth of stories, Brandon. She told me how you needed the right moment to leave me. I’m sure she’s got much more to tell me about your affair.”
A woman arguing with her husband | Source: Midjourney
“Babe, I don’t know what she’s talking about,” he said. “I don’t have proof because there’s nothing to prove, okay?”
I scoffed. “Convenient.”
His expression didn’t change. No panic. No anger. Just that same infuriating calm.
“I swear to you, Kate. I have never been with her,” he began.
I stared at him, searching his face for a flicker of doubt, guilt, or anything real. But all I saw was the same blank mask he always wore when he lied.
A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
Without wasting another minute, I turned around and marched straight back to Linda’s house.
She opened the door before I even knocked, as if she had been waiting.
“Show me proof,” I demanded. “If you have it, he’s yours.”
She didn’t hesitate. She pulled out her phone, scrolling furiously before shoving it into my hands.
And there it was.
Photos. Videos. Messages.
A woman using a phone | Source: Pexels
There was a photo of Brandon with her at a hotel, their hands intertwined across a candlelit dinner table. Then, there was another one that showed him slipping into her house at night.
She even shared messages where Brandon promised her that he’d leave me. And that they’d live together happily.
The proof in her phone showed a side of my husband I had never known existed.
My legs felt weak, but I forced myself to stand tall.
I didn’t cry. Not yet.
I handed her phone back. “Thank you.”
A serious woman | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I decided to file for divorce.
When I told Brandon about it, he still said Linda was lying. He swore the photos, videos, and text messages were fake. He even claimed Linda had been stalking him for years and had fabricated everything.
“Trust me,” he said. “I’ll prove she’s lying. My lawyers will take care of everything.”
And that’s exactly what happened.
The lawyers dug into the evidence. They found inconsistencies in the timestamps of the videos and digital alterations in the photos.
A lawyer in his office | Source: Pexels
It turned out Linda had hired a tech expert to forge messages, splicing together old voicemails and using AI to create fabricated conversations.
The supposed hotel footage was traced back to a manipulated stock video, and every single piece of “proof” she had provided fell apart under scrutiny.
And that’s how Brandon saved our marriage from falling apart. That’s how he stopped me from filing for divorce.
I don’t know why Linda did what she did, but it looked like she had spent 20 years in love with a man who had never been hers.
I guess she had been waiting for something that never existed.
A woman sitting in her living room | Source: Midjourney
That night, as we sat in the dimly lit living room, I finally spoke.
“I’m sorry, Brandon,” I whispered. “I should have believed you.”
He exhaled slowly, setting down his glass of whiskey. “Kate, after all these years, do you really think I could do that to you?”
“No, but…” I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“I love you,” he said, reaching for my hand. “I always have.”
I nodded. “I know.”
A woman smiling at her husband | Source: Midjourney
After everything that happened, I sued Linda for damaging my car. Soon, she was forced to pay for the repairs and deep-cleaning. We even got a restraining order against her.
But at night, when Brandon’s asleep beside me…
I still wonder.
What if the lawyers were wrong?
What if, somewhere in that pile of lies and fabrications… there was one truth?
And what if I had just chosen the wrong side?
A woman looking outside a window | Source: Midjourney
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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