My neighbor frequently asked me to babysit her child, but when I asked her to watch mine just once, she declined — so I came up with a creative solution

My entitled neighbor expected free babysitting for months, but the one time I needed her? Radio silence. That’s when I realized kindness has limits. So, I got a little too creative and drew the line with a twist she never saw coming.

Motherhood is a beautiful journey, filled with ups and downs, laughter and tears. But what happens when someone sees your maternal instincts as an opportunity to exploit? When they assume that just because you’re a stay-at-home mom, you’re available 24/7 to be their personal, unpaid nanny? Hi there, I’m Annie, and boy, do I have a story for you…

Picture this: a quaint suburban neighborhood where tranquility reigns supreme. You know the kind? Pristine lawns, friendly waves from passing cars, and block parties that wrap up by 9 p.m. sharp.

That was my slice of paradise, quiet and drama-free. Until Hurricane Megan blew in next door.

From day one, Megan strutted around like she owned the place. Head held high, designer purse swinging, she was the walking definition of “extra.”

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve got nothing but respect for single moms. It’s a tough gig. But Megan? She wore her single mom status like a badge that entitled her to everyone’s time and energy. Especially mine.

Apparently, I was Megan’s personal target for FREE childcare.

“Hi there! I’m Megan,” she chirped, flashing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “And this is my daughter, Lily.”

I bounced my son Tommy perched on my shoulder. “Nice to meet you! I’m Annie, and this little guy is Tommy.”

Megan’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you’re home during the day? That’s fantastic! I’ve been looking for someone reliable to watch Lily. My work schedule is just crazy, you know!”

I felt a twinge of unease but pushed it aside. “Well, I’m usually pretty busy with Tommy, but if you need help in an emergency, I can try.”

Megan’s smile widened. “That’s so sweet of you! I’m sure we’ll be great friends.”

As she left little Lily with me and walked away, I turned to Tommy. “Well, buddy, looks like we’ve got new neighbors. What do you think?”

Tommy gurgled and reached for my hair. If only I’d known what I was getting myself into.

Weeks rolled by and I was at my wit’s end. Megan’s “emergencies” had become a near-daily occurrence.

Despite my growing unease, I brushed it off. We moms gotta stick together, right? But one favor turned into two, then ten, and then I lost count.

The doorbell rang, and I groaned. “Tommy, want to bet who that is?”

I opened the door to find Megan, perfectly coiffed, with Lily in tow. “Annie, you’re a lifesaver! I’ve got this important meeting. You can watch Lily, right?”

I hesitated. “Megan, I’ve got a lot on my plate today and I can’t—”

“It’ll just be a few hours,” she interrupted, already ushering Lily inside. “You’re the best!”

Before I could protest, she was gone, leaving me with two kids and a growing sense of frustration.

Lily looked up at me with big eyes, holding a drawing of red and pink hearts. “Can we play dress-up, Annie?”

I sighed, forcing a smile. “Sure, sweetie. Let’s go find some costumes.”

As I watched the kids play, I couldn’t help but wonder how long I could keep this up.

Picture this: You’re knee-deep in diapers and alphabet songs, cherishing every moment with your little one. Then your neighbor knocks on the door again, flashing a smile and making the same monotonous request.

“Oh, Annie, would you be a sweetheart and babysit Lily for a few hours? I’m sure you wouldn’t mind watching her while I get my nails done.”

Spa days, shopping sprees, hair appointments… you name it, I was babysitting through it all. FOR FREE.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love kids. But there’s a fine line between being neighborly and being a doormat. And folks, I was starting to feel like I had “Welcome” printed on my forehead.

The last straw came on a Tuesday. I was in the middle of a virtual doctor’s appointment when Megan burst in, Lily trailing behind her.

“Annie, emergency! I’ve got to run to the salon. Watch Lily, okay?”

I gaped at her, my doctor’s voice still coming through my earbuds. “Megan, I’m in the middle of—”

“Thanks, you’re a doll!” And just like that, she was gone.

I turned back to my screen, where my doctor looked confused. “Everything okay, Annie?”

I laughed humorlessly. “Just peachy. Now, where were we?”

That night, I vented to my husband, Dan. “I can’t believe her! She just assumes I’m always available.”

Dan frowned. “Honey, you need to set some boundaries. This isn’t fair to you or Tommy.”

“You’re right. Next time she asks, I’m putting my foot down.”

Little did I know, my chance would come sooner than expected.

The following week, Dan and I had a doctor’s appointment. I figured it was the perfect opportunity to ask Megan for a favor.

I knocked on her door, my hopes soaring. Megan answered, looking annoyed at the interruption.

“Hey, Megan. I hate to ask, but Dan and I have a doctor’s appointment. Could you watch Tommy for an hour? I’d really appreciate it.”

Megan’s face twisted. “Oh, Annie. I’m really not comfortable watching other people’s kids. It’s just… stressful, you know? And I need my ‘me time.’ You understand, right?”

I stood there, STUNNED. After everything I’d done for her, she couldn’t spare ONE HOUR?

“Sure! I understand completely.”

As I walked away, something inside me snapped. It was time for a little creative problem-solving.

My opportunity came a few days later when Megan knocked on my door, Lily in tow.

“Annie, I’ve got a hair appointment. You can watch Lily, right?”

I smiled sweetly. “Actually, Megan, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been meaning to tell you about my new babysitting business.”

Her eyes lit up. “Babysitting business?”

“Yep! I figured since I’m home anyway, why not make some extra money? And since we’re neighbors, I’d be happy to give you a discounted rate.”

Megan leaned in, intrigued. “That’s amazing! How much?”

My husband threw all my paintings away. I decided to give him a real lesson now

When I discovered Tim had thrown away my paintings, it felt like a piece of my soul had been ripped away. Each stroke of paint, each color combination, each image on the canvas represented hours of joy, frustration, and fulfillment. But to him, they were nothing but “junk.”

A Moment of Realization

That evening, exhausted from work, I decided to revisit an old painting that I believed had more potential. The idea of reworking it filled me with a rare excitement. However, my anticipation turned to horror when I descended into the basement, only to find it empty. The walls were bare, the shelves clean, and my paintings—gone. I stood there in shock, a cold sense of loss washing over me. How could he do this? How could he erase a part of my life so carelessly?

Confrontation and Anger

I stormed upstairs, fury bubbling inside me. There he was, lounging on the couch, engrossed in a football game, a bag of chips in hand. “Tim! Where are my f***ing paintings?” I demanded, my voice shaking with rage.

He glanced at me nonchalantly and said, “Oh, honey, relax. You should be thanking me for taking out that junk.”

For Illustrative purpose only

His dismissive attitude was the final straw. I exploded in anger, yelling at him, but he remained unbothered, barely acknowledging my distress. It was clear he didn’t understand or care about the pain he’d caused.

The Plan for Revenge

As I stood there, seething, a plan began to form in my mind. If he could so casually discard something that meant so much to me, then he deserved a taste of his own medicine. I decided to retaliate in a way that would hit him where it hurt the most.

For Illustrative purpose only

The next day, I waited until Tim left for work. Fueled by a sense of righteous indignation, I methodically gathered all his cherished belongings—his prized football memorabilia, his vintage record collection, even his favorite recliner. I loaded everything into the back of my car and drove to the nearest charity shop. Watching the workers unload his precious items, I felt a twisted sense of satisfaction. Let’s see how he likes it, I thought.

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