Busy Dad Ignores Us & Treats Mom Like a Servant — Until My Brother and I Gave Him a Wake-Up Call

Our mom was the servant to our workaholic dad, who was the ruler of our household. We children felt like ghosts. Up until the day we made the dangerous decision to open Dad’s eyes, not realizing how it would ultimately change everything.

Have you ever felt unseen in your own home? As if the person you’re supposed to admire doesn’t even acknowledge your presence? That’s been my experience for as long as I can remember. This is the story of how my brother and I taught our father a lesson he would never forget. My name is Irene.

It was a typical Tuesday evening. My younger brother, Josh, was sprawled on the living room floor, lost in a comic book, while I sat at the kitchen table, surrounded by my math homework. The clock on the wall inched closer to six o’clock.

The front door opened as planned. Dad plodded in with his tie already undone and a briefcase bag in hand. He gave us a fleeting glance before yelling, “Hey.”

With hope, I glanced up at something. A grin? A “How was your day?” But no, no. Nothing.

Rather, he roared, “Mariam! “Where’s my dinner, please?”

Mom emerged from the washing room, appearing stressed out. “I’m on my way, Carl. Just putting the wash away.”

Dad let out a growl and removed his shoes. “Well, move quickly. I’m going hungry.”

He quickly went to the PlayStation and sat down on the couch without even saying “How are you?” to either of us. All other sounds in the room were overpowered by the ones he was accustomed with from his racing game.

I glanced across the room at Josh. I nodded silently in agreement as he rolled his eyes. It stung even more because this was our normal.

Mom ran by with a load of laundry in her arms. “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, Carl.”

Not a reply. Just the occasional mumbled curse from Dad and the simulated tires’ shrieking.

With a groan, I returned to my homework. Another evening in the Thompson home, where Mom was the maid, Dad was the king, and Josh and I were, well, pretty much just furniture.

Josh said, “Earth to Irene,” and his voice startled me out of my reverie. “You gonna help me with my English homework or what?”

I feigned a laugh. Yes, without a doubt. Allow me to resolve this issue first.”

I couldn’t help but think as I leaned over my textbook: How long could we continue in this manner?

Things came to a head the following evening. I heard my father’s voice coming from the living room as I was laying the table for dinner.

“Mariam! How come these publications are so stale? Do you never clean this place?

Glancing around the corner, I saw Dad with a frown on his face, holding up one of his automobile magazines. Mom was standing close by, looking discouraged and worn out.

“Carl, I apologize. I’ve had my hands full at work and—”

“Busy?” Dad rubbed his chin and scoffed. “You know, I work too. However, I anticipate returning home to a tidy home. Is asking for too much?”

My heart raced. Mom put in just as much, if not more, work as Dad did. She took care of all the cooking, cleaning, and childcare in addition to her full-time job. What action did Dad take? Play video games, work, eat, and sleep. Repeat after rinsing.

“That’s it,” I whispered to myself. Josh was getting a snack in the kitchen when I barged in.

I added in a quiet voice, “We need to do something.”

Josh cocked an eyebrow. “About what?”

“Regarding Dad. This cannot continue. He treats us like we’re nonexistent and Mom like dirt. We must demonstrate to him how it feels.”

Josh’s expression softened and became smiley. “I’m listening.”

We gathered close, discussing our strategy in hushed tones. Give Dad a taste of his own medicine, it was time.

“You really think this’ll work?” As we were finalizing the plans, Josh asked.

I gave a shrug. “I’m not sure. But we ought to give it a shot. If nothing else, only for Mom’s sake.”

Josh gave a serious nod. “Alright, let’s do this.”

I couldn’t help but feel both nervous and excited as we parted ways. Could this possibly work? Or would it only exacerbate the situation?

Josh and I carried out our strategy the following day. We promised Mom we’d take care of things at home, so we talked her into taking a spa day. She was apprehensive at first but eventually consented, obviously in need of a vacation.

Josh and I dressed as 6 p.m. drew near. We took two of Dad’s shirts and ties out of his wardrobe in a raid. Our tiny frames made the garments hang off us, but that was part of the look we wanted.

“Ready?” As we heard Dad’s car arrive into the driveway, I asked Josh.

With a nod, he adjusted the size of his tie. “Let’s do this.”

Josh and I took our places; Josh on the couch with a magazine and me beside the door. We heard Dad’s key in the lock, and my heart was racing.

Dad came in when the door opened. He froze, soaking in our appearance in our garments.

His tone betrayed his uncertainty as he questioned, “What’s going on here?” “Why are you guys wearing my shirt?”

I gave him a sharp glance. “I need my dinner,” I murmured, imitating his customary tone of urgency.

Josh stayed staring at his magazine. “And don’t forget to clean up the PlayStation when you’re done.”

Dad raised an eyebrow. “Hold on a second. What are the two of you doing?”

I dismissed him with a wave. “Hey, I have a lot going on. Please don’t ask me questions.”

Josh added, “Yes, go ask Mom.” Isn’t that how you typically operate?”

As we carried on with our act, Dad stood there with his mouth open. Josh was flipping through the magazine with a fake look of boredom, so I picked up the PlayStation controller and started playing.

“Seriously, what is this?” Dad sounded a mixture of perplexity and irritation.

I raised my head, cynicism seeping into my words. “I apologize. Were you speaking to me? I seem to be in the midst of a significant situation at this time.”

Josh said, “Just like you always are.”

A thick hush descended upon the space. As Dad watched us, I could almost see the cogs in his head working. His expression shifted slowly from bewilderment to dawning comprehension.

His voice was quieter, almost tender, as he spoke again. “Is this… is this how you see me?”

The time for honesty has come. I let go of the act and took a long breath.

“Yes, father. You’ve been treating us and Mom just like this. You treat your mother like she’s only here to serve you, and you’re always too busy for us.”

Josh spoke up, his voice steady despite the emotion I could see in his eyes. “She works just as hard as you do, but she also manages everything at home. Yet all you do is complain and make more demands of her.”

Dad’s shoulders sagged under the weight of our words. He began to respond, but before he could, the front door swung open once more.

Mom entered, appearing more at ease than I had seen her in a long time. Her eyes grew wide as she processed what she was seeing.

“What’s going on?” she inquired, casting a quick glance at Dad and us.

I was astonished to see tears welling up in Dad’s eyes as he turned to face her. His voice broke as he replied, “I think I’ve been a terrible father and husband.” “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize how bad it was until now.”

Without saying anything else, he entered the kitchen. He began removing pots and pans, and we were all left speechless.

“Carl?” Mom yelled, her confusion clearly audible. “What are you doing?”

“Preparing dinner! He said, “Flatbread, anyone?!” “Please have a seat. Everyone among you.”

After exchanging stunned looks, Josh and I sat down at the table with Mom. Amid the sounds and smells of cooking, we sat in awkward quiet.

At last, Dad came out of the kitchen with a boiling saucepan in his hand. Placing it on the table, he started bringing each of us a portion.

As he worked, he apologized. “For all of it. I realize now how neglected all of you have been. I swear, I’ll do better.”

I was struck by how different this seemed as we started to eat. In fact, Dad was there, asking us about our days and paying attention to our answers. It was pleasant. Strange, but pleasant.

“So,” Dad replied, wiping his mouth. Tell me what’s been overlooked. How are each of you doing in school?”

I turned to face Dad, then looked at Josh. Was this actually happening?

With caution, I said, “It’s… fine.” “I’ve got a big history test coming up next week.”

Dad seemed really interested as he nodded. “Maybe I could help you study?”

The offer caught me off guard. I replied with a slight smile, “Yeah.” “That’d be great.”

After supper, Dad gave us a genuine smile instead of the half-smiles we were accustomed to. With a quiet “thank you,” he spoke. “For pointing out my behavior to me. That was a wake-up call I needed.”

I had not felt that kind of warmth in my chest since a long time ago. “We’re just glad you listened, Dad.”

Josh gave me a cheeky smile. “And maybe now you’ll actually join us to play games?”

Dad laughed, loud and strong, a chuckle I had not noticed before. “Agree. Let’s clean up together first, though.

It was impossible for me not to feel positive as we all helped to clear the table and wash the dishes. I understood that things wouldn’t miraculously get better after just one night. However, it was a genuine beginning. And we felt like a family again for the first time in a long time.