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 sister ruined my birthday because of her fixation on diet culture — I didn’t let it go unnoticed

Madeleine’s birthday takes an unexpected turn when her sister’s diet obsession turns the celebration upside down. Determined not to ruin her special day, Madeleine plans a bold move and gives Fiona a taste of her own medicine. Will Madeleine’s daring response save the day or create even more chaos?

“Fiona, can you come over to help with the birthday party?” I asked, sitting comfortably on my plush sofa, my phone pressed to my ear.

“Sure, Madeleine,” Fiona replied cheerfully. “What do you need me to do?”

“Decorations and food,” I said, relief washing over me. “I could really use an extra pair of hands!”

“No problem,” she said. “I’ll take care of it.”

I smiled, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. “Thanks, Fiona! What would I do without you? I’ll send you some money for the decorations, drinks, and a simple BBQ.”

“Got it. I’ll make sure everything looks perfect,” Fiona assured me.

After hanging up, I quickly transferred the money to her account.

I trusted Fiona with the decorations; she had an eye for detail and always made everything look beautiful. I texted her the list of things we needed and told her I’d leave the keys under the doormat.

“Hey, sweetheart, are we all set for the party?” my fiancé, Albert, asked as I sent my last text to Fiona.

“Almost,” I said, standing up and giving him a reassuring smile. “Fiona’s handling the decorations and food. We just need to pick up some cups and plates from the supermarket.”

“Didn’t we already have enough?” he asked, a little puzzled.

“I thought so, too,” I admitted, shaking my head. “But it turns out we’re short. I don’t want to risk running out during the party.”

“Good call,” Albert said, grabbing the car keys. “Let’s go then. Better to get this done early.”

As we drove to the supermarket, I felt both excited and nervous. Hosting a party always brought these feelings, but having Fiona and Albert helping made everything easier.

I thought about the backyard and how I wanted it to look festive and welcoming. Fiona’s decorations would be perfect, and the BBQ would keep everyone happy and full.

“Are you okay?” Albert asked, glancing at me as he drove.

“Yeah,” I replied, smiling. “Just thinking about how everything will turn out.”

“It’ll be great, Madeleine,” he said, squeezing my hand. “We’ve got this.”

We arrived at the supermarket and quickly gathered the cups and plates we needed. As we loaded them into the car, I felt a sense of accomplishment.

Everything was coming together.

“And we’re back!” I called out as Albert and I walked into the backyard, carrying the cups and plates. But my smile quickly turned to shock as I took in the scene before me.

The table was filled with an array of vegetables, rice cakes, and several containers of 0% yogurt, which was essentially yogurt with no fat or sugar.

And instead of a proper cake, there was half a watermelon with candles stuck into it.

My heart sank. This wasn’t what I had in mind at all.

I turned to Albert, whose eyes widened in disbelief. “What’s going on here?” he asked, clearly puzzled.

“I don’t know,” I said, confused.

I spotted Fiona arranging the table and quickly walked over to her, pulling her aside. “Fiona, what happened to the BBQ??” I asked, trying to keep my frustration in check.

“Well, it wasn’t a good idea considering your size, so I chose better options!” she said matter-of-factly.

I was shocked.

I come from a “bigger” family and have learned to love myself as I am. However, Fiona has always struggled with her self-image, trying hundreds of diets but never sticking to any of them.

I felt my cheeks flush with anger, knowing she’d done it because of her diet obsession! But I swallowed my anger as causing a scene wouldn’t help anything. The guests were starting to arrive, and I didn’t want to ruin the evening for everyone.

“So yeah, what was I saying? Yep, I just thought healthier options would be better for you, Madeliene,” she said, looking at me as if she had done me a favor.

“Fiona, this is a party! People expect to have fun and enjoy good food!” I almost snapped.

“I just thought this would be better,” she shrugged as if it was no big deal.

Taking a deep breath, I decided I had to fix this. I walked over to Albert, who was also puzzled by the spread.

“Albert, we need to order some normal food. The guests will be here any minute,” I said.

“Alright, I’ll call the pizza place and get some burgers delivered, too. We can’t let this ruin the evening.”

“Thank you,” I said, grateful for his quick thinking.

As Albert made the calls, I tried to mingle with the arriving guests, keeping a smile on my face despite my frustration. Everyone was polite, but I could see the confusion in their eyes as they looked at the food.

“What’s going on with the food?” one of our friends asked.

“Just a little mix-up,” I said with a forced laugh. “We’ve got some more food coming soon.”

Soon, Albert came back, giving me a reassuring nod. “Food’s on its way. Should be here in about thirty minutes,” he whispered to me.

“Perfect,” I sighed. “Thank you, Albert.”

“Don’t worry, Madeleine,” he said, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll turn this around.”

With Albert’s reassuring nod, I felt a bit more at ease, knowing that more food was on its way. But I was starting to place the order for the BBQ when Fiona snapped.

“SORRY FOR BEING SUCH A TERRIBLE SISTER AND TRYING TO HELP YOU LOSE ALL THIS FAT!” she screamed, her voice echoing across the backyard. “KEEP STUFFING YOURSELF WITH BBQ, BUT DON’T EXPECT ME TO CHEER YOU UP WHEN YOUR FIANCÉ KICKS YOU OUT!”

The sudden outburst left everyone stunned. The guests looked around awkwardly, not sure what to do or say. I felt my face flush with embarrassment and anger!

“Fiona, will you please stop it?!” I said, pulling her aside again.

She glared at me, her eyes filled with frustration. “I was only trying to help you, Madeleine. You never listen!”

“Look, this is not the time or place for this,” I said, my hands shaking slightly. “We have guests here. Can we please talk about this later?”

“Everyone, let’s enjoy the evening. The food will be here soon, and we can all have a good time,” Albert announced, facing the guests. I could only feel grateful he was there to handle the situation with me.

Fiona crossed her arms, fuming, but she didn’t say anything further. I could see the guests shifting uncomfortably. I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure.

“I’m sorry, everyone,” I said, addressing the crowd. “There was a bit of a misunderstanding, but it’s all sorted now. Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

With that, I turned and hurried inside to write a note for the delivery guy. “Please make sure to hand the order directly to me (Madeleine), not my sister,” I scribbled quickly, sticking the note on the front door.

The minutes dragged on as I anxiously awaited the arrival of the food. I kept glancing at the clock, hoping it would get there soon so we could move past the awkwardness. Finally, the doorbell rang.

I opened the door to greet the delivery guy, who handed me the bags filled with BBQ and other goodies.

“Thank you so much,” I said, taking the food from him.

“No problem,” he replied with a friendly smile.

Carrying the food back to the backyard, I took a deep breath. I was determined to salvage the evening, no matter what. But I was also going to teach Fiona a lesson about respecting boundaries and understanding what it means to truly help someone.

“Alright, everyone,” I announced, placing the BBQ and sides on the table. “The food is here! Let’s dig in and enjoy the evening!”

I began handing each guest a plate piled high with BBQ meat, salads, and sides. As I served, I made sure to keep my composure, smiling and chatting with everyone.

When I reached Fiona, I couldn’t help but feel a little mischievous. I stacked all the rice cakes and vegetables on a plate for her, making sure it was an impressive tower of the healthiest options available!

“Fiona,” I called out, drawing everyone’s attention. “I’ve got a special plate just for you!”

She looked up, surprised by the attention. As I handed her the plate, I couldn’t resist adding a little jab. “Here you go, Fiona. Make sure to stick with the healthy stuff. I wouldn’t want you to become unlovable by eating something unhealthy!”

Fiona’s face turned bright red. She stared at the plate, then looked at me with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “Thanks,” she mumbled, barely able to meet my eyes.

“Everyone, enjoy!” I said cheerfully as I moved on to serve the next guest.

I also kept an eye on Fiona. She stood off to the side, barely touching her plate. I could see the discomfort and humiliation on her face. Eventually, she put the plate down and made her way towards the exit.

“I’m leaving,” she said quietly as she passed by me, avoiding eye contact.

“Okay,” I replied, shrugging.

I watched her walk away, feeling a sense of relief.

The BBQ was a hit, and people came up to me, complimenting the food and the decorations. It was exactly the kind of evening I had hoped for despite the rocky start. Most importantly, my “sweet” sister received a taste of her own medicine.

What would you have done?

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*