My MIL Demanded $600 for Walking & Feeding Our Dog While I Was in Labor – I Agreed, but Only on One Condition

The arrival of my son was a whirlwind of emotions. The overwhelming joy of holding him in my arms was quickly followed by a less pleasant surprise: an unexpected invoice from my mother-in-law, Abigail.

Let me rewind. A few days before my due date, I was experiencing the familiar discomfort of late pregnancy. My golden retriever, Rich, sensing my unease, rested his head on my lap, offering a comforting presence.

“Jake,” I called out to my husband, “we need to figure out what to do with Richa while we’re at the hospital.”

Jake, ever the easygoing one, dismissed my concerns. “Don’t stress. Mom loves Rich. She’ll handle it.” His casual reassurance, while endearing, sometimes left me wanting more.

Later that evening, Jake called Abigail, and she readily agreed to watch Rich, expressing her eagerness to support us. “Don’t worry,” she assured us, “I’ll take great care of him. Go have my grandchild!”

Despite her kind words, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was slightly disappointed about not being allowed in the hospital. Nevertheless, I was grateful for her assistance.

The next morning, with our bags packed, we bid farewell to Rich at Abigail’s house. Labor progressed rapidly, and soon, I was navigating the intense experience of childbirth. Hours of enduring contractions, with Jake by my side offering unwavering support, culminated in the magical moment of holding my son for the first time.

Three days later, we were discharged from the hospital. As we prepared to return home, I anticipated a warm welcome and the joyful reunion of Rich and his new little brother.

However, upon entering the kitchen, I discovered a note on the table. Expecting a heartwarming message from Abigail, I eagerly opened it. Instead, I was met with a stark reality:

“You owe me $600 for feeding and walking Rich. My time costs money. You have my bank details.”

I initially thought I had misread it. But no, it was a legitimate invoice. My mother-in-law, without any prior discussion, was charging us for caring for our own dog.

Jake, understandably, was taken aback. “I’ll talk to her,” he offered, but I decided to take the reins. “No, I’ll handle this,” I declared, a plan already brewing in my mind.

A week later, Abigail arrived for a visit to meet our son. After spending some time with the baby, she shifted the conversation. “So, when can I expect my money?” she inquired with a forced smile.

I smiled back, maintaining my composure. “Of course, Abigail. I’ll pay you—on one condition.”

I proceeded to present her with a folder containing a detailed invoice. “Since you’re charging us for services,” I explained, “it’s only fair we do the same.”

The folder outlined various favors Jake and I had rendered to her over the years: assisting her with a house move ($800), covering an unexpected car repair ($1,200), and babysitting her neighbor’s children ($600).

Her face turned a shade of crimson. “This is ridiculous!” she exclaimed. “You can’t charge family for things like this!”

I raised an eyebrow. “Exactly. Family doesn’t charge family. Or at least, that’s what I thought.”

Abigail, visibly flustered, attempted to argue her point but ultimately stormed out of the house in a fit of anger.

Jake, who had been observing the exchange with amusement, pulled me into a warm embrace. “No one should mess with my wife,” he chuckled.

I settled onto the couch, cradling my son, while Rich, ever the loyal companion, curled up at my feet.

I knew Abigail might not have learned her lesson, but one thing was certain: she wouldn’t be receiving that $600 anytime soon. And if she dared to bring it up again, I had the folder ready. Let her try me.