Six months postpartum, drowning in baby laundry, and exhausted beyond words, I thought my husband would understand when our washing machine broke. But instead of helping, he shrugged and said, “Just wash everything by hand—people did it for centuries.”
I never thought I’d spend this much time doing laundry.
A tired woman in a chair | Source: Pexels
Six months ago, I gave birth to our first baby. Since then, my life had turned into a never-ending cycle of feeding, changing diapers, cleaning, cooking, and washing. So much washing. Babies go through more clothes in a day than an entire football team.
On a good day, I washed at least eight pounds of tiny onesies, burp cloths, blankets, and bibs. On a bad day? Let’s just say I stopped counting.
A woman doing laundry | Source: Pexels
So when the washing machine broke, I knew I was in trouble.
I had just pulled out a soaking pile of clothes when it sputtered, let out a sad grinding noise, and died. I pressed the buttons. Nothing. I unplugged it, plugged it back in. Nothing.
My heart sank.
When Billy got home from work, I wasted no time.
A tired puzzled woman | Source: Pexels
“The washing machine is dead,” I said as soon as he stepped through the door. “We need a new one.”
Billy barely looked up from his phone. “Huh?”
“I said the washing machine broke. We need to replace it. Soon.”
He nodded absently, kicked off his shoes, and scrolled through his screen. “Yeah. Not this month.”
A man on his phone in his living room | Source: Pexels
I blinked. “What?”
“Not this month,” he repeated. “Maybe next month when I get my salary. Three weeks.”
I felt my stomach twist. “Billy, I can’t go three weeks without a washing machine. The baby’s clothes need to be cleaned properly every day.”
A couple having a serious talk | Source: Pexels
Billy sighed like I was asking for something unreasonable. He put his phone down and stretched his arms over his head. “Look, I already promised to pay for my mom’s vacation this month. She really deserves it.”
I stared at him. “Your mom’s vacation?”
“Yeah. She’s been babysitting for us. I thought it’d be nice to do something for her.”
Babysitting?
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
I swallowed hard. His mother came over once a month. She sat on the couch, watched TV, ate the dinner I cooked, and took a nap while the baby slept. That wasn’t babysitting. That was visiting.
Billy kept talking like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on me. “She said she needed a break, so I figured I’d cover her trip. It’s just for a few days.”
A man talking to his wife in his kitchen | Source: Pexels
I crossed my arms. “Billy, your mom doesn’t babysit. She comes over, eats, naps, and goes home.”
He frowned. “That’s not true.”
“Oh, really? When was the last time she changed a diaper?”
Billy opened his mouth, then shut it. “That’s not the point.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, I think it is.”
A couple arguing in their kitchen | Source: Pexels
He groaned, rubbing his face. “Look, can’t you just wash everything by hand for now? People used to do that for centuries. Nobody died from it.”
I stared at him, feeling my blood boil. Wash everything by hand. Like I wasn’t already drowning in work, exhausted, aching, and running on three hours of sleep a night.
An angry woman clutching her head | Source: Pexels
I took a slow, deep breath, my hands clenching into fists. I wanted to yell, to scream, to make him understand how unfair this was. But I knew Billy. Arguing wouldn’t change his mind.
I exhaled and looked at the pile of dirty clothes stacked by the door. Fine. If he wanted me to wash everything by hand, then that’s exactly what I’d do.
The first load wasn’t so bad.
A pile of clothes | Source: Pexels
I filled the bathtub with soapy water, dropped in the baby’s clothes, and started scrubbing. My arms ached, but I told myself it was temporary. Just a few weeks.
By the third load, my back was screaming. My fingers were raw. And I still had towels, bedsheets, and Billy’s work clothes waiting for me.
A tired woman sitting near a bathtub | Source: Midjourney
Every day was the same. Wake up, feed the baby, clean, cook, do laundry by hand, wring it out, hang it up. By the time I was done, my hands were swollen, my shoulders stiff, and my body exhausted.
Billy didn’t notice.
A bored man on a couch | Source: Pexels
He came home, kicked off his shoes, ate the dinner I cooked, and stretched out on the couch. I could barely hold a spoon, but he never once asked if I needed help. Never looked at my hands, red and cracked from hours of scrubbing.
One night, after I’d finished washing another pile of clothes, I collapsed onto the couch next to him. I winced as I rubbed my aching fingers.
Billy glanced at me. “What’s wrong with you?”
A tired woman on her couch | Source: Pexels
I stared at him. “What’s wrong with me?”
He shrugged. “You look tired.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Gee, I wonder why.”
He didn’t even flinch. Just turned back to the TV. That was the moment something snapped inside me.
An annoyed woman in her kitchen | Source: Pexels
Billy wasn’t going to understand—not unless he felt the inconvenience himself. If he wanted me to live like a 19th-century housewife, then fine. He could live like a caveman.
So I planned my revenge.
The next morning, I packed his lunch as usual. Except instead of the big, hearty meal he expected, I filled his lunchbox with stones. Right on top, I placed a folded note.
A lunchbox filled with rocks | Source: Midjourney
Then I kissed his cheek and sent him off to work.
And I waited.
At exactly 12:30 PM, Billy stormed through the front door, red-faced and furious.
“What the hell have you done?!” he shouted, slamming his lunchbox onto the counter.
I turned from the sink, wiping my hands on a towel. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
A laughing woman in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
He flipped open the lid, revealing the pile of rocks. He grabbed the note and read it out loud.
“Men used to get food for their families themselves. Go hunt your meal, make fire with stones, and fry it.”
His face twisted in rage. “Are you out of your damn mind, Shirley? I had to open this in front of my coworkers!”
I crossed my arms. “Oh, so public humiliation is bad when it happens to you?”
A shouting man wearing glasses | Source: Pexels
Billy clenched his jaw. He looked like he wanted to yell, but for once, he didn’t have a comeback.
I crossed my arms and tilted my head. “Go on, Billy. Tell me how this is different.”
His jaw tightened. “Shirley, this is—this is just childish.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, I see. So your suffering is real, but mine is just me being childish?”
An angry woman lecturing her husband | Source: Pexels
He threw his hands in the air. “You could have just talked to me!”
I stepped forward, fire burning in my chest. “Talked to you? I did, Billy. I told you I couldn’t go three weeks without a washing machine. I told you I was exhausted. And you shrugged and told me to do it by hand. Like I was some woman from the 1800s!”
A woman turning away from her husband | Source: Pexels
His nostrils flared, but I could see the tiny flicker of guilt creeping in. He knew I was right.
I pointed at his lunchbox. “You thought I’d just take it, huh? That I’d wash and scrub and break my back while you sat on that couch every night without a care in the world?”
Billy looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.
A sad man clutching his head | Source: Pexels
I shook my head. “I’m not a servant, Billy. And I’m sure as hell not your mother.”
Silence. Then, finally, he muttered, “I get it.”
“Do you?” I asked.
He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Yeah. I do.”
A tired man rubbing his temples | Source: Pexels
I watched him for a long moment, letting his words settle. Then I turned back to the sink. “Good,” I said, rinsing off my hands. “Because I meant it, Billy. If you ever put your mother’s vacation over my basic needs again, you’d better learn how to start a fire with those rocks.”
Billy sulked for the rest of the evening.
An angry man in a hoodie | Source: Pexels
He barely touched his dinner. He didn’t turn on the TV. He sat on the couch, arms crossed, staring at the wall like it had personally betrayed him. Every now and then, he sighed loudly, like I was supposed to feel bad for him.
I didn’t.
For once, he was the one uncomfortable. He was the one who had to sit with the weight of his own choices. And I was perfectly fine letting him stew in it.
A woman reading a book on a couch | Source: Pexels
The next morning, something strange happened.
Billy’s alarm went off earlier than usual. Instead of hitting snooze five times, he actually got up. He got dressed quickly and left without a word.
I didn’t ask where he was going. I just waited.
That evening, when he came home, I heard it before I saw it—the unmistakable sound of a large box being dragged through the doorway.
A large box in the doorway | Source: Midjourney
I turned around and there it was. A brand-new washing machine.
Billy didn’t say anything. He just set it up, plugging in hoses, checking the settings. No complaints. No excuses. Just quiet determination.
When he finished, he finally looked up. His face was sheepish, his voice low.
“I get it now.”
A sorry man covering his face | Source: Pexels
I watched him for a moment, then nodded. “Good.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh… should’ve listened to you sooner.”
“Yeah,” I said, crossing my arms. “You should have.”
He swallowed, nodded again, then grabbed his phone and walked away without argument or justification. Just acceptance. And honestly? That was enough.
A satisfied smiling woman | Source: Pexels
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.
Mom with Baby Is Kicked Out of Home by Mother-In-Law, Sees Her Digging through Trash Years Later — Story of the Day
A controlling woman kicks her daughter-in-law out of the house with her newborn child, only to find herself in appalling conditions years later.
Abbie and Jonathan were married for three years when they welcomed their son, Timothy. They lived in Austin, Texas, with Jonathan’s mother, Susan, who wasn’t the worst by all accounts but wasn’t the best either.
Susan’s problem was that she wanted total control over everything, especially Jonathan’s life. To her relief, she was always successful since Jonathan was a “mama’s boy” who never went against her.
However, things began to change when Abbie came into Jonathan’s life. He began to devote a significant percentage of his attention to her, making Susan believe that Abbie was pulling him away from her.
Eventually, Abbie got the impression that Susan despised her, so she advised Jonathan that they move out. But he politely declined, saying, “Oh darling, come on! You know how mom is! She may seem harsh on the outside, but she is soft on the inside. She adores you just as much as she adores me.”
But Abbie knew that wasn’t the case, and her worst fears proved true one day…
Mrs. Norris wasn’t supportive of Abbie and Jonathan’s relationship. | Source: Pexels
“GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE WITH THAT BABY!” Susan yelled at Abbie as she and Jonathan returned from the hospital following Timothy’s birth. She didn’t even go to the hospital for Abbie’s delivery because she despised her. And once Abbie was home, she already had a brilliant plan to get rid of her “pathetic” daughter-in-law.
“Susan, what’s the matter?” Abbie stared at her, bewildered. She didn’t understand why the woman would say something like that to her.
“Good Lord! Susan?” she whispered in disbelief on seeing her mother-in-law in such a terrible condition.
“What’s the matter with me?” she retorted. “That boy is not my son’s blood! He looks nothing like my son!” she lied, screaming at the top of her lungs.
“Susan!” Abbie yelled back, teary-eyed. “How could you say such a thing? He’s your grandson…Jonathan,” she said, turning to her husband. “Why aren’t you saying anything? You know he’s—”
Before Abbie could finish, Susan cut her off. “Stop bewitching my son with those crocodile tears of yours! You’ve already wrecked his life. Pack your things and get lost!” she repeated and grabbed Jonathan’s arm, pulling him to her side.
Mrs. Norris ordered Abbie to leave the house. | Source: Pexels
“Jonathan….” Abbie looked at him with hopeful eyes, but he didn’t utter a word. Instead, he stood by his mother’s side and lowered his head in shame.
Abbie couldn’t believe Jonathan didn’t say anything to his mother, even if it meant losing his son! She realized whatever was happening to her was probably the worst thing she’d ever faced, but she reasoned it was probably for the best if she moved away from the toxicity. So she packed her belongings and left Susan’s home to live with her parents.
Several years went by and Abbie had raised Timothy on her own, giving him the finest of everything. Fortunately, she also healed from the pain of her toxic marriage with Jonathan and took the first step towards divorce and a happy life with her son as a single mother.
A few years after the divorce, she found love again when she crossed paths with a man named Edward at Timothy’s school. He was a widower with a daughter, Caroline. He and Abbie fell in love and got married.
Abbie felt her life was complete after marrying Edward. She had a wonderful family, an excellent job, two beautiful children, and a devoted husband. She never thought about the horrific past again until something unexpected happened one day…
Abbie took a drastic step and became a single mom. | Source: Pexels
After dropping Caroline and Timothy off at school, Abbie was on her way to work when she noticed an elderly woman dumpster diving for food.
“Good Lord!” she sighed as she came to a halt and glanced at the woman. “What misery did she go through to have to eat from a dumpster?”
Abbie reached into her handbag for cash and got out of the car to offer it to the woman. But as she got closer, something about the woman’s filthy clothes made her stop.
She recognized the woman’s coat and immediately came to a halt in the middle of the street until a car blew its horn, interrupting her thoughts. When the homeless woman turned around to face her, Abbie’s suspicions were confirmed.
“Good Lord! Susan?” she whispered in disbelief on seeing her mother-in-law in such a terrible condition. “Susan, what happened to you? What are you doing here?” she asked worriedly as she dashed over to her.
Mrs. Norris was looking through trash for food. | Source: Shutterstock
With tears in her eyes, the older woman stared at her. “Abbie? Forgive me for what I did, sweetheart,” she pleaded, bursting into tears. “Please forgive me! I’m starving! I haven’t eaten in days….” She fell at Abbie’s feet and wouldn’t stop crying.
Abbie never liked Susan, but she wasn’t so heartless that she would leave her like that on the streets. So she took a day off from work and accompanied the older woman to a restaurant.
As Susan finished eating, Abbie gently asked, “Susan, how did you end up like this? Where’s Jonathan?”
“All I can say is I paid for my sins, sweetheart,” she sighed, teary-eyed. “I lost everything I had. My Jonathan is no longer with me. He left me alone, and I was so miserable after that….”
Susan wouldn’t stop crying as she revealed that Jonathan was returning home from work one day when he was attacked and robbed by some hooligans. He tried to fight back, but he eventually succumbed to the injuries and died before reaching the hospital.
Jonathan’s death left Mrs. Norris miserable. | Source: Pexels
After the terrible accident, Susan almost lost her mind. Every night, she would sit for hours on her son’s bed, clutching his things and crying. She didn’t want to do anything or interact with anyone. She eventually gave up on life and began roaming the streets.
“I still have the house, but it’s so empty without him. It comes back to bite me when I go back there. I don’t want to be there. I want to run away from all the bad memories…All the bad things I did to you, oh, I regret them so much. Will you please forgive me? I beg of you!” she pleaded, trembling.
Seeing Susan’s dreadful situation, Abbie knew she had already had her fair share of suffering for her wrongdoings, so softening her heart for the older woman, she decided to let go of the past and forgive her.
“It’s all right, Susan,” she said. “I don’t have anything against you or Jonathan. In fact, I’m happy I went on with my life because I now have a beautiful husband and two wonderful children.”
Susan was surprised. “You remarried?”
Abbie was happy with her married life. | Source: Pexels
“Yes! And I am very happy with my life now,” Abbie replied, smiling.
Susan felt a tinge of jealousy, and she dropped her head in shame. But Abbie forgave her and decided to help her out, so Abbie started visiting her home and helping her around the house once in a while.
She also told Edward everything, and he was very sympathetic and supportive. Leaving the horrific past behind them, they now often invite Susan to their home and spend time with her so that she does not feel alone.
What can we learn from this story?
- One day, everyone pays the price for their wrongdoings. Susan ruined Abbie and Jonathan’s relationship and paid the price for it when she found herself all alone.
- Good things always happen to good people. Though Abbie’s divorce from Jonathan was devastating, it ultimately resulted in a much happier life for her and Timothy.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a mom who asks her old neighbor to babysit her children only to return home and find them missing.
This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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