When my father-in-law moved into our home, I thought we were doing him a favor. But soon, his presence turned into something I never could’ve anticipated — something that tested my patience, my marriage, and my limits.
When my mother-in-law ended up in the hospital unexpectedly, my father-in-law, Frank seemed utterly lost. He’d always depended on her for everything — cooking, cleaning, even remembering to take his medication. Without her, he was like a rudderless ship.
“I don’t know what to do with myself,” he admitted when my husband, Brian, and I visited him a few days after the incident. His cheerful voice was low, and his shoulders drooped.
Brian squeezed my hand, giving me the look — the one that said he was about to make an impulsive decision I’d have to clean up later. Sure enough, he turned to his dad and said, “Why don’t you come stay with us for a bit? It’ll be better than being alone.”
Son talking to his depressed dad | Source: Midjourney
Frank’s eyes lit up, and before I could process what just happened, he was moving into our guest room with an alarming amount of suitcases for someone who claimed it was “temporary.”
At first, it was fine. He seemed grateful, even a bit shy about imposing. But then little things started to change.
“Hey, dear,” he called out one afternoon while I was on a Zoom call for work. “Can you grab me some coffee? I can’t find the pods.”
“They’re right on the counter,” I replied.
“Yeah, but you know how to work the machine better,” he said, chuckling as though I’d find this endearing.
Senior man seated next to a coffee making machine | Source: Midjourney
Then it was, “Can you fix me a sandwich?” and “Don’t forget my toast in the mornings, I like it just golden.” One day, he even handed me a basket of his clothes, saying, “I’ll need these for golf tomorrow. Thanks, daughter.”
Each time, Brian was “too busy” to notice. But my patience? That was wearing dangerously thin. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could play along.
The breaking point came on a Thursday evening — a night I’ll never forget. My father-in-law decided to host poker night at our house, apparently without feeling the need to ask me first.
“Just a couple of guys, nothing big,” he’d said that morning, flashing a grin as he searched through the fridge. “We’ll keep it clean. You’ll barely notice we’re here.”
Senior man standing next to the fridge talking to his daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney
Barely notice? By 8 p.m. the living room was transformed into a smoky den of laughter, chips clinking, and loud chatter. And me? I was in the kitchen, balancing trays of snacks and refilling drinks like an unpaid server.
“Hey, we’re out of beer!” one of his friends yelled. “Sweetheart,” Frank called to me, not even bothering to stand, “Can you grab some from the garage?” I clenched my jaw, my blood boiling, but I grabbed the beer.
When another one of his friends tapped his glass and said, “A little more ice,” I nearly lost it.
Senior men hanging out | Source: Midjourney
After the game, as Frank walked his buddies to the door, I overheard him chuckling and saying to Brian, “See? That’s how you should treat a woman.”
The words hit me like a slap. I felt my stomach twist as the realization sunk in. This wasn’t just about poker night — it was about a pattern. I’d seen it for years in the way Frank treated my MIL like she was there solely to cater to him. Now he was training my husband to do the same.
Father and son having a conversation | Source: Midjourney
It started small, almost unnoticeable. “Hey, can you grab me a drink while you’re up?” Brian would ask, even when I wasn’t already standing. At first, I didn’t think much of it — he’d always been good about splitting chores and being considerate. But then, those small favors turned into expectations.
One evening, as I was folding laundry, Brian walked past with a plate from his dinner. Instead of putting it in the sink like he always did, he left it on the coffee table. “Can you take care of that?” he asked, not even breaking stride.
Another time, I was in the middle of preparing dinner when he strolled into the kitchen. “Don’t forget I need my blue shirt ironed for tomorrow,” he said, planting a kiss on my cheek like it would soften the demand.
Couple in the kitchen preparing dinner | Source: Midjourney
That was it. “No, Brian,” I said, my voice firm. “I’ve taken it seriously enough. You both need to understand—this stops now. I am not your maid, and I am not his either.”
The tension in the room was thick, and I could see Brian’s stunned face as I walked out, determined that things were about to change—for good.
The very next morning, after a sleepless night of seething and strategizing, I sat down at the dining table with my laptop and began typing out a “rental agreement.” I wasn’t going to charge Frank rent, but I wanted clear, no-nonsense rules. If he was going to stay under our roof, things were going to change.
Woman using her laptop | Source: Pexels
The rules were simple but non-negotiable:
- I cook one meal for everyone each day. If someone wants something else, they can cook it themselves.
- If you’re physically capable of doing something, you do it yourself—this includes fetching drinks, laundry, and cleaning up after meals.
- Everyone cleans up after themselves. Dishes go in the dishwasher, not the sink. The laundry will be folded and put away by the person who wore it.
- If you invite guests over, you’re responsible for hosting them, including food, drinks, and cleanup.
- No sexist comments or behavior — this house operates on mutual respect, period.
- Contributions to household chores are expected, not optional. You live here; you pitch in.
Identical cubes with RULES inscription | Source: Pexels
I printed it out, stapled the pages together, and waited until Frank came into the kitchen. He looked startled to see me sitting there, sipping my coffee with a hard copy of the rules in front of me.
“Morning,” he said cautiously, sensing the shift in my demeanor.
“Morning,” I replied, pushing the document toward him. “We need to talk.”
“What’s this?” he asked, frowning as he scanned the first page.
“It’s a rental agreement for staying in this house,” I said evenly. “These are the rules moving forward.”
Frank blinked at me, his face turning red. “Rules? What is this, the army? I’m your guest!”
Annoyed senior man | Source: Midjourney
“No,” I said sharply. “You’re not a guest anymore. You’ve been here for weeks. You’re family, which means you’re not entitled to sit back while everyone else waits on you. This is how it’s going to work if you’re staying here.”
Brian walked in midway through the exchange, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “What’s going on?” he asked, glancing between us.
“Your wife is trying to turn this house into a dictatorship,” Frank said, slapping the paper onto the table.
Brian picked up the agreement and skimmed it. “Uh, isn’t this a bit… much?” he said, hesitating.
Young man in deep thoughts reading a document | Source: Pexels
“No, Brian,” I said, meeting his eyes. “What’s much is your father treating me like I’m his maid? And lately, you’ve started doing the same. That stops today.”
The room fell silent. Frank looked like he was ready to explode, and Brian seemed torn. But I held my ground, unflinching.
“You can either follow the rules,” I said, standing up, “or find somewhere else to stay.”
Frank opened his mouth to argue but closed it again, realizing I wasn’t bluffing. For the first time in weeks, I felt in control — and I wasn’t about to let that go.
Young woman and a senior man having a conversation | Source: Midjourney
When my mother-in-law, Sarah, finally came home from the hospital, I was both nervous and relieved. Nervous because I had no idea how she’d react to what I’d done, and relieved because, frankly, Frank had been a handful.
As she settled on the couch, sipping the tea I’d made her, I slid the “rental agreement” across the table. “Sarah,” I began, choosing my words carefully, “I need you to see this. It’s something I worked on while Frank was staying here.”
Her brows furrowed as she read, her lips tightening at first. By the time she got to Rule 5, she glanced up at me with a knowing smile. “Oh, I like this one,” she said. “Mutual respect. Novel concept for him.”
Senior woman smiling while reading a document | Source: Midjourney
I exhaled, grateful she didn’t seem offended. “I know you care deeply about him,” I said, sitting beside her. “But Sarah, he’s been relying on you for far too long. It’s not fair to you. And while he was here… well, let’s just say I realized how much you’ve been carrying all these years.”
Her eyes softened, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of exhaustion. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “It’s been like this since the day we got married. I just… I thought it was my job.”
“No,” I said firmly, taking her hand. “It’s time for him to step up. Not just for your sake, but for his.
Sarah chuckled, shaking her head. “I wish I’d done this years ago.”
Senior woman and her daughter in law reading a document | Source: Midjourney
When Frank came into the room, Sarah waved the paper in the air. “You’ve got work to do, mister,” she said, her voice playful but firm.
He groaned, muttering something about a conspiracy, but Sarah stood her ground.
As they walked into the kitchen together, I couldn’t help but smile. For the first time, it felt like Sarah wasn’t carrying the entire load alone.
“Hey,” Brian said, coming up behind me. “You really think he’ll stick to it?”
I turned, watching Sarah guide Frank to the sink where she handed him a dish towel. For the first time, he didn’t argue — he just started drying.
I smiled, my voice steady. “He doesn’t have a choice. Because this time, we’re all playing by the rules.”
Family setting dinner on the table | Source: Midjourney
Love this story? You won’t want to miss the next one: My FIL threatened me after I caught him with his mistress in a café—But karma stepped in at just the right moment. You won’t believe how it all unfolds! Click here to dive in.
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 Ex Demanded I Pay Him Back Every Penny He Spent on Me — I Made Him Wish He Never Asked
As if being cheated on wasn’t enough, my ex-boyfriend texted me out of the blue, making monetary demands! After I got over the shock, I devised a cunning plan that would be replicated down the line. I made him regret ever making the request!
A woman reacting in shock while looking at her phone | Source: Pexels
So, here’s the deal. My ex, Dan Brown, and I had been together for five years. Things were great until they weren’t. When we broke up because of his cheating, I thought that was the end of it. Boy, was I wrong!
What made me think we were all done was that we had no contact for a while. I believed he’d moved on with the woman he cheated on me with, but that wasn’t the case. A month after our breakup, Dan suddenly reappeared last week, daring to text me with a ludicrous demand!
A serious-looking man texting | Source: Pexels
When you hear what it was, you’ll also agree that his request was the pettiest, leading it to be almost comical! His message was him asking me to pay him back for every penny he ever spent on me. Seriously!?
Dan was asking for money for all the gifts he’d bought me for special days like my birthdays, Christmas, and New Year’s! That man had LITERALLY calculated every penny he’d spent, leading to a large sum!
A confused-looking woman looking at her phone | Source: Pexels
“You need to pay me back EACH and EVERY penny!” he demanded. He didn’t even bother greeting me before making demands! The nerve of this guy! At first, I was stunned! Who does that? But then, the more I thought about it, the more it made me laugh!
Instead of texting him and telling him how pathetic he was for making such a request, I chose to hold my tongue. I didn’t even brag to Dan about how the amount he wanted wasn’t more than what I had spent on HIM for those same days. After all, we had been together for long enough.
A woman giving a man a wrapped gift | Source: Pixabay
Initially, I asked him, “But throughout our relationship, you said I didn’t have to pay you back?” I was shocked when he replied, “It doesn’t matter. I need that money now, so hurry up.” I thought about ignoring him, but then a brilliantly mischievous plan started to form in my head.
I came up with a better plan to exact my revenge and decided to play along but with a twist! “Sure thing, Dan,” I texted back, “I’ll pay you back.” His response came within seconds, filled with self-righteous triumph:
“Good. I knew you’d come to your senses.”
A man texting | Source: Pexels
Little did he know, I had something else in mind. I set up a direct debit to send him ONE penny a day. One single, solitary penny. I remember the exact moment I hit the final confirmation button on my bank’s app.
My best friend, Emily, was sitting across from me at our favorite café. She was watching my every move with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “What are you doing?” she asked, leaning over the table. “I’m paying Dan back,” I said with a grin.
Two friends having beverages at a café | Source: Pixabay
Emily’s eyebrows shot up. “How?”
“One penny a day.” Her eyes widened, and then she burst out laughing. “No way! That’s genius!” We both laughed until tears streamed down our faces! Our laughter attracted a few curious glances from other patrons. But I didn’t care.
The most exciting part about this whole thing was that I had added the reference “cheating [expletive].” It showed up with each payment made daily. This was the best plan I’d ever come up with!
Two friends laughing at a café | Source: Pexels
A week later, Dan texted me again. “What the hell, Stacy? Why am I getting pennies from you?” I couldn’t help but laugh as I read his message. “I told you I’d pay you back,” I replied. “It’ll take a while, but you’ll get your money.”
He called me immediately, his voice boiling with anger. “This isn’t funny, Stacy! I want my money NOW!”
“Well, Dan,” I said calmly, “you’re getting it. One penny at a time.”
“Stop this nonsense right now!”
“Or what? You’ll take me to court? Go ahead.”
A woman smiling while talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
I figured from now on, he’d think about me daily for the next SEVEN years since he decided to mess with me! He hung up, and I felt a surge of satisfaction. Dan had always been controlling, always needing to have the upper hand. This was the first time I felt like I had the power, and it felt AMAZING!
Months went by, and the daily penny transfers continued. Emily and I would joke about it often, wondering how long it would take before my ex finally snapped. Every time I saw that single penny deducted from my account, it felt like a small victory!
A woman smiling while looking at her phone | Source: Pexels
One day, I got another message from Dan. But this time, it wasn’t filled with anger. “Please, Stacy. Just stop this. I get it. You win.” I thought about it for a while. He had been a jerk, but did I really want to keep this up forever?
I decided it was time to end the penny payments, but not without one final touch. I withdrew the remaining amount I owed him in pennies and nickels and placed them in a small box. It was a hefty little package. I decorated it with a nice bow and included a handwritten note:
“Here’s the rest of what I owe you. Have a nice life, Dan.”
Lots of coins on a table | Source: Pixabay
I mailed it to his apartment. The thought of him opening the box, finding hundreds of pennies and nickels, and realizing he’d lost his battle filled me with immense satisfaction. A few days later, I got a message from Dan. It read, “You’re insane.”
I showed it to Emily, and we laughed until our stomachs hurt! “You know, I think he’s finally realized he messed with the wrong person,” she said, still chuckling.
Two friends laughing | Source: Pexels
In the end, this little revenge plan wasn’t just about getting back at Dan. It was about reclaiming my sense of control and humor after a relationship that had taken so much out of me. And it worked. I felt lighter, freer, and ready to move on!
Months passed, and my ex faded into a distant memory. Life was good. Emily and I graduated, and we both landed jobs in the city. One evening, while we were out celebrating a promotion, Emily raised her glass and said:
“To the best revenge plot ever executed.”
Two friends celebrating with a toast | Source: Pexels
I raised mine too, happy to be honored. “To the best friend who helped me through it,” I replied, clinking my glass against hers. And just like that, Dan and his ridiculous demands were behind me. I learned that sometimes, the best way to handle pettiness is with a little bit of creativity and a whole lot of humor!
Years after my little revenge plot, I found myself telling the story to a new friend, Jenny. She had been going through a rough breakup. But she was sharp and had a knack for turning the tables in ANY situation.
Two friends talking while working | Source: Pexels
After hearing my story, Jenny smiled and said, “You know, that gives me an idea.” I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yeah. My ex, Jake, just demanded I pay HIM back for a trip we took together. I think I can take a page out of your book.”
A few weeks later, I got a call from her. “Remember how I said I had an idea?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I told Jake I’d pay him back, too. But I set up a monthly payment of ten cents! I even made it a direct debit from my account!”
Someone using their banking details for a transaction | Source: Pexels
I laughed, remembering my own scheme. “How’s he taking it?”
“He’s FURIOUS! Keeps texting me to stop, but I remind him I’m paying him back, just like he asked.”
“Sounds like you’ve got this under control,” I replied, laughing at her ex’s misery.
“Thanks to you,” Jenny said. “I don’t feel powerless anymore.”
Two women hugging | Source: Pexels
We chatted for a while longer, sharing stories and laughing about our past relationships. Jenny’s plan wasn’t just about revenge; it was about regaining power like I had. As we ended the call, I felt a sense of pride.
Not only had I managed to turn a ridiculous demand into a source of empowerment for myself, but I’d also inspired someone else to do the same. And that felt EVEN better than the revenge itself!
A happy woman smiling | Source: Pexels
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