When my daughter-in-law asked me to babysit for the weekend, I expected cuddles, cookie crumbs, and maybe a thank-you. Instead, I found a handwritten bill on the counter—for items I used while staying there. I was shocked.
The request had come in a text from Lila while I was refilling the hummingbird feeder. She asked if I could watch Oliver while Lucas went on a work retreat and she went to the spa with her sister.
I agreed right away—I adore my grandson. But when I arrived, the house was messy, the fridge nearly empty, and there were only five diapers and no wipes. I cleaned, shopped, and made sure Oliver was happy and cared for.
We baked cookies, played at the park, watched movies, and laughed a lot. I even cooked a meal for Lila to have when she returned. Then Monday came, and instead of a thank-you, I found a note with a list: eggs \$8, water \$3, electricity \$12, and more—totaling \$40. It ended with “Please Venmo by Friday. Thanks!!” I couldn’t believe it.
Furious but calm, I chose not to argue. Instead, I went home and wrote my own invoice: a tongue-in-cheek breakdown of the cost of raising her husband—meals, laundry, advice, emotional support—totaling over \$200,000, then applied a family discount, leaving \$40. I mailed it in a gold-trimmed envelope. The next day, Lucas called. He was surprised, a little amused, and apologized, saying he had no idea she’d left me a bill. A week later, I received \$40 from Lila via Venmo with the caption: “To settle my debt. Please don’t charge me interest.” I smiled, then donated the money to a children’s hospital in Oliver’s name. Because in the end, love and respect matter more than petty bills—and a good spreadsheet speaks louder than words.