When Brittany, my daughter-in-law, asked me to babysit my grandson Noah for the weekend,
I envisioned a delightful time filled with cuddles, cartoons, and cookies. What I got instead was a handwritten invoice for eggs, water, and toilet paper. Despite our sometimes-strained relationship and her well-known obsession with “boundaries,” I agreed without a second thought. My love for Noah was paramount, and I eagerly anticipated our uninterrupted time together.
Upon arrival, I was met with disarray: a sink full of dirty dishes, an empty fridge, no wipes or baby food in sight, and a critically low diaper supply. As any grandmother would, I rolled up my sleeves and got to work. I cleaned the kitchen, restocked the pantry, washed Noah’s tiny clothes, and prepared homemade meals. I gave him bubble baths, read him stories, and made him giggle until bedtime. By Sunday night, I was utterly exhausted but deeply content. I had poured my heart into every task.
Then came Monday morning. As I was packing to leave, I discovered a folded note on the counter. “Thanks again! Please Venmo $40 by Friday to cover food, water, and paper goods. -Brittany.” I blinked, rereading the note in disbelief. Had I really just dedicated my entire weekend, replenished her home, and lovingly cared for her child, only to be billed for basic groceries?
The initial shock quickly gave way to inspiration. Back home, I drafted my own invoice on formal letterhead: “Grandmother Services, Est. 1993.” It meticulously detailed 18 years of unpaid labor spent raising her husband. Diapers totaled $3,000, school supplies $8,000, and with food, clothes, orthodontics, and emotional support, the grand total easily surpassed $200,000. Then, with a flourish, I applied a “family discount” of 99.98%, leaving a remaining balance of exactly $40. I sealed the invoice in a gold-trimmed envelope and delivered it with a smile.
Shortly after, my son Ethan called, a mix of laughter and apologies in his voice. He was unaware of Brittany’s initial invoice and assured me he was completely on my side. A week later, Brittany Venmoed me the $40 with a simple note: “To settle my debt. ;)” I chuckled, then promptly donated the money to a local children’s hospital in Noah’s name. After all, the best revenge isn’t petty; it’s clever, classy, and comes with itemized receipts.