When my sister-in-law invited my kids to stay at her fancy house with a pool, games, and tons of treats, I thought it was the perfect opportunity. Days passed without a word from them, and then I got a strange text from my daughter — so I decided to check in without warning. What I found in her backyard completely shocked me.
Candace, my sister-in-law, lives in a huge house with six bedrooms and a big yard. I imagined my ten-year-old daughter and eight-year-old son having fun — swimming, jumping on the trampoline, and playing video games with their cousin.
Her twelve-year-old daughter had everything but seemed bored all summer, so I thought this would be good for all of them.
“That sounds great,” I said, already planning what to pack. “Are you sure it’s okay?”
“Of course! Mikayla needs company. You’d be helping us out.”
I felt so happy. My kids deserved a fun summer like this.
So on Friday, I packed their swimsuits and favorite snacks, gave them each $150 to spend, and even gave Mikayla the same amount to be fair. When I dropped them off, my daughter gave me a big hug and said, “Thanks, Mom. This is going to be the best week ever.”
My son was already looking at the pool through the glass doors. “Can we swim now?” he asked.
“Unpack first!” Candace laughed. She smiled at me and said, “Looks like they’re excited! Mikayla, can you show your cousins to their rooms?”
Mikayla nodded and led Annie and Dean inside.
“Text me everything!” I called after them as they rushed in.
Annie turned around, smiled, and gave me a thumbs-up before disappearing inside. I said goodbye to Candace and drove off, happy and excited for the fun week they’d have together.
I had no idea I was leaving my kids in a nightmare.
For the next three days, I didn’t hear a single thing from Annie or Dean. No messages, no calls, not even a blurry photo from the pool.
Kids are usually glued to their phones—especially Annie, who’s normally pretty responsible. So the silence made me uneasy.
On the third day, I texted my sister-in-law. She replied right away: “They’re having SUCH a good time! Pool, candy, cartoons—it’s like a kid’s dream!”
I imagined them jumping into the pool, staying up late, laughing under fairy lights. Maybe they were just having too much fun to check their phones. So I tried not to worry.
Then day four came.
I was wiping crumbs off the kitchen counter when my phone buzzed. I saw Annie’s name and felt a spark of relief.
But the message hit me hard:
“Mom, come save us. Aunt took away our phones. It’s my only chance.”
I didn’t call Annie, Candace, or even my husband. I just jumped into my car and sped off, tires screeching as I left the driveway. My hands were shaking the whole 25-minute drive.
Save them? From what? My mind kept imagining the worst, but nothing could’ve prepared me for what I saw when I got there.
I didn’t even park properly—I just pulled in and rushed straight to the backyard.
Then I stopped in my tracks.
My son was on his knees scrubbing the pool tiles with a brush way too big for him.
My daughter was dragging a huge black trash bag across the lawn, like she was part of the cleaning crew.
And there was Mikayla, relaxing on a lounge chair, sipping juice from a fancy jar and playing on her phone like a queen at the pool.
But what hit me hardest was the clipboard sitting on the patio table.
I walked over and stared at the list clipped to it in shock.
Annie and Dean’s Daily Chores (To Use the Pool + Watch 30 Minutes of Cartoons):
- Sweep and mop all bedrooms
- Wash and dry the dishes
- Fold laundry (for all 3 rooms)
- Clean the bathroom sink and toilet
- Wipe kitchen counters
- Take out the trash and sort bottles
- Clean the pool
- Make lemonade for outdoor guests
- Help with the evening BBQ (if Mikayla has friends over)
And at the bottom, Candace had drawn two cheerful smiley faces—like it was all just fun and games.
I felt like ice ran through my body, and my hands curled into fists. This wasn’t a fun visit — this was child labor.
“Oh! You’re early! Everything alright?” Candace came out smiling like nothing was wrong, acting cheerful even though she’d just completely betrayed my trust. “You look… upset?”
She saw me looking at the clipboard and laughed.
“Oh, the chores? Your kids volunteered to help! Isn’t that sweet? They wanted to earn their pool time.”
Then Annie came up behind her, and the look in her eyes broke me — she looked defeated.
“We didn’t volunteer, Mom,” she said quietly. “Aunt Candace said if we didn’t do the work, she’d take the money you gave us and make us sleep in the garage.”
The garage? She threatened my children with that?
I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t even look at Candace, not when we were standing near things I was tempted to throw at her — like the deck chair, the umbrella shading Mikayla, or anything else nearby.
Instead, I turned to my kids and said calmly, “Go inside and pack your things. We’re leaving.”
They didn’t hesitate. They quickly stuffed their clothes into bags like they’d been ready to go all along.
“Where are your phones?” I asked.
“She locked them in her bedroom safe,” my son answered. “She said we were too distracted to work.”
Distracted from work. They were just eight and ten, and she treated them like unpaid workers.
I handed the car keys to Annie. “Put your bags in the car and wait for me. I’ll get your phones.”
Candace was in the kitchen when I walked in, and she immediately started making excuses like a dam had burst.
“It was just for fun! They liked helping! It builds character! Kids need rules and structure these days!”
“Don’t say another word,” I snapped. “Candace, I’m this close to doing something I’ll regret—so don’t push me. Just give me their phones. Now.”
She actually backed off. I don’t know what expression I had on my face, but she must’ve known I wasn’t kidding. She handed me the phones without saying anything and just stood there as I walked out.
I didn’t even glance back. I got in the car and drove away with my kids, who sat quietly in the backseat, like they were trying to make sense of everything that had happened.
But I wasn’t finished—not even close.
The next morning, I sent her a bill.
Labor Charges: 2 kids x 3 days = $600
I listed everything: washing dishes, cleaning bathrooms, maintaining the pool, taking out the trash, and helping with guests.
At the bottom, I added a note:
“If you don’t pay, I’ll send pictures of your daughter relaxing while my kids cleaned up after her. I’ll start with your book club group chat.”
Guess who sent me the full payment on Venmo just an hour later?
I used every bit of that money to treat my kids to two full days at the amusement park.
They had cotton candy for breakfast, rode roller coasters until they were dizzy, ate funnel cake for lunch, and didn’t lift a finger to do any chores.
“Mom, this is way better than that pool,” my daughter said, chocolate ice cream smeared on her chin.
“Yeah, and we don’t have to clean anything!” my son laughed, spinning on the grass.
That night, we crashed on the couch with pizza and movies. That’s when they told me the worst part.
Mikayla had friends over every day for pool parties, sleepovers, and barbecues—and my kids were made to clean up after everyone.
“Aunt Candace kept saying we should be thankful,” my daughter said softly. “That it was teaching us responsibility.”
As if being forced to work for pool access was some kind of important lesson.
Candace tried to reach out three times that week. I ignored every call.
She texted excuses and apologies. I deleted them. She even messaged me on Facebook, saying I was overreacting, that chores are good for kids, and she was just trying to help.
Help? She called using my kids as unpaid cleaners “help.”
She stole their summer break and treated them like servants. She thought I wouldn’t find out—or that I’d be too polite to do anything about it.
She was wrong.
My kids did learn something that summer—but not what Candace intended.
They learned that their mom will always show up when they need her. That fairness matters. That hard work should be respected and paid for. And that while some adults lie or take advantage, the right ones will always protect them.