When my brother asked me to watch his kids while he went to the Maldives, I had a bad feeling—but agreed out of obligation. Tyler and Jaden showed up acting like spoiled celebrities, sneering at our home, food, and even my son Adrian’s kindness.
They mocked everything—our dinner, Adrian’s old laptop, even our furniture—treating us like second-class citizens. Adrian tried to include them, but they made him feel small. I stayed quiet and counted the days.
On the last morning, they refused to wear seatbelts. I pulled over and refused to drive. Even after their dad yelled at them over the phone, they pouted until they gave in—too late to catch their flight.
When my brother blamed me, I finally told him off. Later, Tyler texted Adrian: “Your mom’s insane.” I just smiled. “No, sweetheart,” I said. “I’m just not their maid.”
