Neighbor Asked My Son to Wash His Car for a Month, Then Refused to Pay – I Taught Him a Lesson of My Own

I could tell something was wrong when Ben walked through the door that Friday evening. He was dragging his feet, and the usual brightness in his eyes was nowhere to be found.

His hands were still wet, probably from wringing out the towels after washing another car, and he avoided eye contact as he dropped onto the couch.

A frustated little boy | Source: Midjourney

A frustated little boy | Source: Midjourney

“Hey, bud, what’s going on?” I called from the kitchen.

I had planned on making him his favorite grilled chicken and mashed potatoes for dinner. I was going to have his plate ready the moment he walked in.

But looking at him now, I was worried. Ben was only 14 but recently got a taste of making money and wanted to be independent.

Plates of food | Source: Midjourney

Plates of food | Source: Midjourney

“Come on,” I said, wiping my hands. “You can tell me anything!”

For a second, he didn’t answer but stared at the ground. My heart sank when I saw the frustration etched on his face.

It was like he was trying to find the words but didn’t know how to get them out.

A close up of a little boy | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a little boy | Source: Midjourney

“He… he didn’t pay me,” Ben finally muttered.

“What do you mean? Didn’t Mr. Peterson agree to pay you $50 each time you washed his car?” I asked, feeling my own brow furrow.

Ben let out a sigh that sounded far too heavy for a 14-year-old.

“Yeah, but today, after I finished washing the car for the fourth time this month, he said it wasn’t ‘spotless’ and that I wouldn’t get paid. At all! He said I should have done a better job if I wanted my money.”

An upset boy | Source: Midjourney

An upset boy | Source: Midjourney

I felt my fists tighten. Mr. Peterson, that smug neighbor of ours who always had something slick to say. He strutted around in his suits, making sure everyone noticed the shine on his precious black Jeep.

“It’s a beautiful car, isn’t it?” he would ask, leaning out of his car. “Stunning!”

A few months ago, he became interested in Ben, especially after seeing Ben wash my car.

“Whoa! You’ve done a great job on your mom’s car, Ben! What do you say about washing my car every Friday? I’ll pay you, of course!”

A Jeep parked in a driveway | Source: Midjourney

A Jeep parked in a driveway | Source: Midjourney

Initially, I thought that it was a compliment, but now I could see it for what it really was:

A way to exploit cheap labor.

“You’ve been washing that car every week this month, haven’t you?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Ben nodded, sinking deeper into the couch.

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah, I’ve spent about three hours for the past four weeks, just making sure that it was clean. I even used the hand-vacuum under the seats and everything. But he said that I didn’t deserve to be paid.”

A flush of anger bloomed across my chest.

I knew Ben had done a great job. Whenever he did our car, I was always so impressed by him. And anyway, Mr. Peterson’s car gleamed like a showroom model when my son was done with it.

A frustrated boy | Source: Midjourney

A frustrated boy | Source: Midjourney

This wasn’t about the car being clean. No, sir. It was about Mr. Peterson being a jerk.

And now?

Now, Ben was left feeling like his hard work wasn’t worth anything.

“How much does he owe you?” I asked.

Ben thought for a moment.

A man in a suit | Source: Midjourney

A man in a suit | Source: Midjourney

“Four washes, Mom. So, $200.”

I pulled out my wallet and counted $200 in crisp bills. I handed it to him, watching his eyes widen in surprise.

“Here, you earned this, sweetheart.”

“Mom, you don’t have to. It was Mr. Peterson’s job to pay me!” he exclaimed.

I shook my head, cutting him off.

A woman taking money out of her wallet | Source: Midjourney

A woman taking money out of her wallet | Source: Midjourney

“I’m not done with Mr. Peterson, honey. He doesn’t get to treat you like this and walk away.”

Ben looked uncertain, his eyes flicking from the money in his hand to me.

“But, Mom!”

“No ‘buts,’ Ben,” I said, putting my wallet away. “Trust me, I’m going to teach Mr. Peterson a lesson about what happens when you take advantage of someone’s hard work. Now, come on, let’s eat. I’m starving!”

Ben smiled and sat down at the table.

A smiling boy | Source: Midjourney

A smiling boy | Source: Midjourney

“Thanks, Mom,” he said, smiling.

The next morning, I woke up with a plan. Mr. Peterson had no idea what was coming. I glanced out the window and, sure enough, there he was, standing in his silk pajamas, meticulously polishing his Jeep like a man obsessed.

I smiled and headed outside, casually walking toward him in my yoga clothes.

“Good morning, Mr. Peterson!” I called out cheerfully.

A man standing next to a Jeep in pajamas | Source: Midjourney

A man standing next to a Jeep in pajamas | Source: Midjourney

He looked up from his car, his usual smug expression already in place.

“Morning, Irene,” he said. “What can I do for you? But make it quick, I have brunch with the family soon.”

I could have rolled my eyes.

“Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to check in about Ben’s payment for washing your car,” I said. “He mentioned you weren’t satisfied with his work yesterday.”

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

Mr. Peterson straightened his back and crossed his arms.

“Yes, that’s right, Irene. The car wasn’t spotless, so I didn’t see the need to pay him. It’s a learning experience, you know? Anyway, he’s a young lad. The world has to humble him.”

The anger from the night before flared up again, but I kept my face neutral, even smiling a little.

“A learning experience, huh?” I said. “Interesting. Ben did tell me that you were a man of your word… and he mentioned that you agreed to pay him $50 per wash, regardless of how spotless it was. And wouldn’t you know it! I’ve got the pictures he took of the car after every wash.”

A man standing next to a Jeep | Source: Midjourney

A man standing next to a Jeep | Source: Midjourney

The smugness in his expression cracked a little.

“Pictures?” Mr. Peterson asked.

“Yes, pictures. He enjoyed sending them to his grandfather after every wash. He is very proud of his work.”

Mr. Peterson grunted.

“And anyway, it seems to me like a verbal agreement was made. And breaking that? Well, that’s a breach of contract, isn’t it? Should I speak to my lawyer about this?”

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

The color drained from his face.

“There’s no need for all that!” he exclaimed.

I held up a hand.

“Oh, I think there is. See, Ben worked hard, and you’re trying to cheat him out of what he earned. So, here’s the deal. You pay my son the $200 today, or I’ll make sure everyone in this neighborhood knows how you treat kids who work for you.”

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney

He just stared at me.

“And if that doesn’t convince you, I’m more than happy to take legal action,” I continued.

I could see the panic settle into his features now. The neighbor with the perfect lawn and the perfect Jeep was suddenly sweating bullets into his silk pajamas.

He opened the car door and fumbled for his wallet, quickly counting out the cash.

A man's wallet | Source: Midjourney

A man’s wallet | Source: Midjourney

“Here’s your money,” he muttered, handing over $200 in crumpled bills.

“Great. It’s been good doing business with you,” I said with a smile. “But please, understand that my son will not touch a car of yours again.”

He nodded grimly.

Inside, Ben looked up from the couch when I walked in. He had a bowl of cereal in his hands, and his eyes widened when I handed him the cash.

A boy holding a bowl of cereal | Source: Midjourney

A boy holding a bowl of cereal | Source: Midjourney

“You actually did it!” he exclaimed.

I grinned, feeling a fierce sense of pride.

“No one messes with my son,” I said. “Especially when they think they can get away with not paying what’s owed. Next time, if someone tries to pull a stunt like that, you’ll know exactly how to handle it.”

“Does this mean that I have to give you the $200 back?” he grinned.

A smiling boy | Source: Midjourney

A smiling boy | Source: Midjourney

“No,” I laughed. “But I think you can take me out on a mother-son date for lunch today?”

“Deal, Mom,” he said.

Later, when we were sitting in a cute bistro, Ben leaned across his chair, squinting at the sign from the ice cream parlor across the road.

“Help wanted,” he read. “What do you think, Mom? A weekend job at an ice cream parlor?”

A mom and son duo at a bistro | Source: Midjourney

A mom and son duo at a bistro | Source: Midjourney

“Go for it,” I laughed, getting into my burger. “But if the boss is mean, you know who to call.”

My son smiled at me and nodded slowly before picking up a fry.

What would you have done?

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

I Made My Boss Regret Humiliating My Wife’s Appearance in Front of the Whole Office

When Colin and his wife, Alice, end up working at the same company for business tyrant Mr. Taylor, they think that they’ve gotten a sweet deal while they branch out to their passions. But after one mistake at work, Alice is ridiculed in front of everyone, causing Colin to retaliate. As the couple lose their jobs, Colin is left fighting for revenge…

Working as a driver for the owner of a mid-sized company was never the dream, but it paid the bills. If I had to be honest, I would tell you that what I had always wanted to do was own my own construction company, but life often works in funny ways.

A smiling man dressed as a chauffer | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man dressed as a chauffer | Source: Midjourney

The silver lining to being a driver was that I got to go to fancy places and I got to work alongside my wife, Alice. We’d met years ago, long before either of us ended up working at the same place. But when Alice got the job as Mr. Taylor’s personal assistant, she dropped him my resume.

“It’s going to be okay, Colin,” she told me one evening when we were making pasta for dinner.

“He needs a personal driver, and you can do that. Neither of us have to stay there forever, but the pay is good enough for the moment. So, until something better comes along for us, we’ll have to make do.”

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

“I know,” I agreed.

Read the full story here.

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.

My Mother-in-Law Purchased the Perfect Mattress for Me – I Was Horrified When I Discovered Her Real Intentions

Despite her age, Julia was just full of life. She constantly walked in and out of our home, ready to throw herself into our kitchen.

“I just want to feed you guys,” she told me when I asked her to sit down, ready to cook for her instead.

“I don’t have anything else to do besides meet the ladies for drinks,” she chuckled.

It usually ended with us cooking together — Toby coming home to music and laughter echoing in the kitchen.

My parents were across the country because I had moved for college, and ended up settling down here with Toby. And as much as phone and video calls kept me close to my family, at the end of the day, Julia filled the role of a mother — a mother in close proximity anyway.

After three years of being married, Toby and I were trying to have a baby.

“I’m ready if you are,” Toby told me. “I think it’s time now.”

I agreed with Toby. I was ready — I wanted to be a mom.

So, we began trying. And for months, we just couldn’t get pregnant. And the longer we tried, the more reality set in. Maybe we just weren’t meant to have biological children.

“What do you want to do?” I asked Toby. “Keep trying?”

Toby nodded. I knew that he wouldn’t ask me to do anything I didn’t want to do, but I also knew that he desperately wanted to be a father.

So, torn, I turned to my mother-in-law for advice. Julia took me to meet with a wellness coach, she took me for fertility massages, and then, she even bought Toby and I a brand new mattress.

“Maybe your body is just not rested enough,” my mother-in-law said. “Maybe you just need to give your body the best chance possible at this.”

“Do you think that it was a bit unnecessary?” I asked Toby as we got into bed that night, testing out our new mattress.

“Normally, I would have said yes,” Toby admitted. “But maybe there’s something to what Mom said. Our mattress was horrible before. Maybe it will make a difference.”

And it did. Because not even a month later, I discovered that we were pregnant. At first, I didn’t know whether to tell my husband and our family because I was so nervous about everything.

I felt that if I acknowledged the truth, then maybe I was inviting something to happen. But it made no sense — my irrational fear was selfish. Toby needed to know that we were well on our way to being parents.

“Thank goodness,” Toby said, picking me up. “Finally!”

Once we were safe within the second trimester, we told our family — satisfied that our baby’s growth was on track.

And then, before we knew it, our daughter, Maddie, was born.

My mother-in-law took over, caring for the three of us while we navigated the new waters of parenthood. She cooked and cleaned, and took over Maddie’s early morning feeding times.

Julia’s presence made me feel loved, especially because my parents were unable to come over and meet our baby yet.

Until Toby discovered something in our home that changed the way I viewed Julia forever.

Toby and I didn’t mind that Maddie spent the night in our bed – it was just easier for me to feed her through the night. But one night, Maddie had a blow-out, causing our bed to suffer the consequences.

“You sort the baby out,” Toby yawned when I woke him up to Maddie’s drama. “I’ll sort the bed out.”

I picked up my daughter and took her into the bathroom – her blow-out called for a bath, not just a diaper change. Maddie cooed and pressed her gummy hands to my face.

“Sweet girl,” I told her. “You just have to make life difficult for Dad and me, huh?”

Meanwhile, what I didn’t know was that while Toby was stripping our bed, he had uncovered something strange attached to our mattress.

By the time I was done with Maddie, she was almost asleep again. So, I took her to our bedroom, ready to put her into the crib while I helped Toby change the bedding.

“Oh, honey,” he said when he saw me standing in the doorway. “We cannot use this anymore.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, setting Maddie down. “Did she get it into the mattress?”

Toby looked nervous. He had picked up the mattress so that it stood on its side.

“No, it’s not that,” he said.

I was perplexed, watching him struggle with words. “What are you talking about? It’s just a mattress, we’ll clean it–”

“No, Larissa,” he interrupted, his voice rising in panic. “It’s not just a mattress.”

By this point, I was sleep-deprived and slightly annoyed with my husband. Toby was not a man to fumble for his words, and yet, here he was, in the early hours of the morning, too uncertain to change the sheets.

“What?”

“Look what I found,” he said.

Toby handed me a little silk bag. Inside there were various herbs. I hadn’t seen the bag before.

“What is this? Where did you find it?” I asked.

“It was pinned to the mattress. It was under the mattress protector, so I think we just didn’t notice it before.”

“Fine, but what is it for?” I asked, confused and irritable.

“It’s fertility herbs, it has to be!” Toby exclaimed.

I had no idea what he was talking about.

“Listen, I don’t know if this is true or not, but I do know that my mother believes in old wives’ tales. What if this is one of those tales?”

“She would never do that,” I said. “No way!”

“Then where else did it come from?” Toby asked flatly.

He made us sleep in the guest bedroom – where Julia slept when she stayed over. But of course, I couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t silence my mind.

I looked at Maddie, sleeping in between Toby and me. She was perfect. Sure, we had a difficult time conceiving, but Maddie was our child through and through. She had my hair and Toby’s eyes. She was ours in every sense of the word.

But there was no mistaking the fact that she was born shortly after Julia had gifted us the bed.

Could those herbs have helped with Maddie’s birth? But was that even possible?

I don’t remember falling asleep, but when I woke up, the familiar smell of gas hit my nose. Outside, Toby was dousing our mattress. He threw the match on it as I stepped outside the back door.

The mattress went up in flames in an instant – the flames seemed to dance with a fervor that matched the turmoil inside me. I was trying to understand Julia’s motives. She had always been so close to us – to me – so I couldn’t understand why she would keep this away from me.

I didn’t understand the significance of the herbs, but if she had explained it to me, I wouldn’t have felt the paranoia and fear that had settled in my body since Toby’s discovery.

“What are you doing?” I exclaimed, hearing the fire grow louder.

“We couldn’t keep it, honey. We just couldn’t,” he said.

Toby had a deep fear for anything esoteric – anything that bordered the supernatural was too much for him. He would have rather slept in our car than spent another night in the house with the mattress.

As the mattress burned, I kept an eye on the baby monitor, watching Maddie sleep. The silence between Toby and I was heavy with the uncertainty of what had been going on in our home.

Later, Julia came over to make was breakfast as usual. My husband took the lead, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of betrayal.

“Mom, why didn’t you tell us about the mattress? About the herbs?” he asked.

I poured Julia a cup of tea – despite everything that we had learned, she was still one of my favorite people. I loved her like I loved my mother.

My mother-in-law’s face crumpled, her usual vibrancy replaced by a somber guilt.

“I just wanted to help. I knew that you were having trouble conceiving, and I thought that if it worked, you wouldn’t care how. I never meant to hurt either of you. Especially not my granddaughter.”

“What else did you do? What’s in the bag? Other than the herbs?” Toby’s questions flew hard and fast around our living room.

“Nothing!” Julia exclaimed, finally registering Toby’s fear. “It’s just dried herbs. I can give you a list of them,” she said. “I’ll take you both to the store where I got them from. It’s a sweet little apothecary next to my dentist. It’s a store all about natural wellness.”

“You could have just told us,” I found myself saying. “How we can trust anything you do now? How do we know if our baby is a miracle baby or just an outcome of your herbs?”

“Does that matter?” she asked, her eyes brimming with tears. “Maddie is here and she’s ours.”

I couldn’t exactly argue with that. Of course, Maddie was ours. I was just feeling wounded that Julia had done this and not told me. I also felt obligated to be angry with her – because my husband was livid.

“I’m sorry,” my mother-in-law whispered. “I really am.”

At her words, I felt Toby soften next to me.

“We need to start over, Mom,” he said. “If you plan on doing anything like this again, you have to tell us first. We need to know what’s going on in our own homes.”

Julia nodded and smiled at us. She seemed shaken that we had discovered the truth.

I was confused – there was a part of me that was eternally grateful to her because I know how difficult it was for us to get pregnant. But at the same time, how could sleeping on a bunch of herbs actually help us get pregnant?

Toby spent the rest of the day looking for mattresses online, while Julia baked us a tart for lunch. I just reveled in spending time with my daughter.

What do you think? Do you believe in natural remedies and old wives tales?

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