My MIL Charged $600 for Watching Our Dog While I Was in Labor — I Had the Perfect Response

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

I thought the note on the table was a nice note from my mother-in-law when I got home from the hospital with my baby. Rather, it stated that she was billing us $600 for watching our dog while I was giving birth. I had a better suggestion, but my husband said he would speak with her.

A nagging discomfort in my lower back that kept getting worse by the minute had me stretched out on the couch a few days before I went into labor.

Rich, my golden retriever, put his head on my lap and watched me with wide brown eyes as if he sensed something was wrong. Appreciating his quiet presence, I scratched behind his ears.

“Jake!” With a strained voice and another wave of anguish rolling through me, I contacted my spouse.

Jake’s eyebrows crunched as he stacked cheese and turkey on a sandwich in the kitchen.

“Yeah, babe?” he said without raising his gaze.

I let out a sigh. While we’re at the hospital, we need to decide what to do about Rich. Could we ask your mother to assist us?

My baby was a week overdue, and I was ready to be done with this mess, so we had an induction set for the next day.

With his sandwich in hand, Jake approached me and kissed my forehead. “Doris, don’t worry. Mom adores Rich. She’ll take care of it.”

My husband was that person. He dismissed nearly everything with a simple fix. One of the reasons I adored him was his optimism, but I’ll be honest: it was also one of the things that frequently annoyed me.

However, that could simply be the result of my discomfort and the hormones. I responded, “Alright,” and leaned back on the cushions. “Just make sure she knows it’s only for a couple of days.”

Jake conveyed the scenario to his mother, Abigail, over the phone later that evening. Without hesitation, she consented. He smiled as he hung up. “She expressed her happiness to assist. The issue has been resolved.

That must be good enough for me, I thought.

That night, Jake and I prepared our hospital bag, and we bid Rich farewell the following morning. I got down on my knees to scratch his fluffy head by the door.

“Be a good boy for Grandma, okay?” He appeared to understand as he wagged his tail.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” Abigail said as she smiled and waved me away. “I just wish I could be at the hospital.”

That had been a minor problem. We had requested that our relatives not come to the hospital with us or visit us. I needed my spouse during childbirth because my pregnancy had been difficult enough.

I also didn’t want anyone else there in case something went wrong.

Perhaps she was still a little sour about it, but Abigail claimed to understand.

Jake stepped in and said, “Mom, you know our wishes,” grinning to soften the blow of his statement.

She uttered, “I know, I know,” “You kids of the present age! Go have my grandchild now.

After I said, “Thank you, Abigail,” we left the room.

Induction was never an option for me. As we were about to enter the hospital, my water broke. And to be honest, this was torture. As women, we need to discuss labor with our daughters and with one other more.

For hours, I held on to the hospital bed bars as if they were the only thing keeping me grounded. I felt I may go crazy from the contractions and the nurses’ constant pushing and prodding.

Even though he appeared to be one contraction away from fainting himself, Jake stood by my side the entire time, holding my hand and doing his best to keep me calm.

But as soon as they put my son in my arms, all of the suffering and fatigue vanished. He was small, wrinkled, and flawless.

Jake and I both sobbed foolishly. The fact that we had brought this tiny person into the world was a wonder. The hospital was our happy place for three days.

I was relieved when we were eventually permitted to return home. We carried our baby gingerly through the hospital’s doors and into the parking lot.

When Jake called Abigail to let her know we were being released, she said she would give us a few days to settle in before we met the baby. She was so nice to do that!

I considered sitting down on our couch and introducing Rich to his new little sibling as we arrived into our driveway. Yes, it was going to be flawless.

A folded piece of paper on the table caught my attention as soon as we entered the kitchen. Thinking that Abigail had sent us a lovely “Welcome Home” note made my heart skip a beat.

“Congratulations on your new bundle of joy!” was already in my mind as I gingerly moved the baby in my arms and opened it.

Rather, the memo said:

For feeding and walking Rich, you owe me $600. I have to pay for my time. You have my bank account information.

I stared at it for a time, certain that I was misreading it. However, no. It was authentic. In exchange for watching our dog, my mother-in-law was requesting payment.

Not because I didn’t want to pay for such services, but because she was family, she never brought up the subject of charging us.

“Jake,” I called in a piercing tone. He was putting the car seat down in the living room. “You might want to come see this.”

He entered, glanced at the note, and moaned. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” I responded, gesturing to him with the paper. “Your mom’s demanding money for taking care of Rich while I was pushing your child out of my body.”

With a disappointed expression, Jake combed his hair. He said, “I’ll talk to her,”

“No,” I said, halting his progress. “I’ll handle this.” I had an idea already, and it had nothing to do with paying up in secret.

Abigail visited to see the baby a week later. Like the most devoted grandma, she walked in grinning broadly, gave Jake a cheek kiss, and started gushing about my son.

Her words, “Oh, he’s precious,” came as she held him close to her. “He has Jake’s nose.”

I thought for a second that she was only here to see her grandson. However, she stopped the act as she returned the infant to me.

She said, “So,” as she rubbed her hands together. “When will I get my money back? I’ve had enough waiting.

I held my kid close while I gazed at her. My smile remained unwavering. Naturally, Abigail. I’ll give you money, but with a catch.

She squinted. “State? What state is it?

I went to the computer desk that we kept between the living room and the kitchen and took out a folder that I had made earlier. I had been thinking over all the times Jake and I had helped her over the last few days.

All of the favors and money we ever spent on her, excluding presents, were documented in black and white.

I opened it and said, “Well, since you’re charging us for your services, I thought it only was fair that we do the same.”

I slid the folder in her direction after placing it on the table. With a suspicious expression on her face, Abigail leaned over. With a question, “What is this?”

I added, “You can think of it as an itemized invoice,” in a light tone. “You know, like professionals do.”

She took the paper and looked at what I had written, her face turning pale.

I started by tapping the paper. “Let’s see,” I said. “Last year, I helped you move? That’s eight hundred dollars. You can think of it as a family discount because it’s less expensive than hiring a conventional mover. Then there was the time your transmission failed and we had to pay for your car’s repairs. It came to $1,200. And the time I volunteered to watch your neighbor’s children for free at your request? That amounts to almost $600.

Like a fish, Abigail’s mouth opened and closed. She sputtered, “This is ridiculous!” at last. “You can’t charge me for things family does for each other!”

I arched an eyebrow and crossed my arms. “Exactly,” I answered in a stern voice. “Families support one another without anticipating reimbursement. That’s what I believed, anyway.”

Her words came out muddled as she attempted to argue. “But… but this isn’t the same! I had to change my plans in order to care for Rich.

I laughed and shrugged. “And I had to rearrange my entire life to have your grandchild,” I said. “So if you want to talk about fair compensation, I think we’re more than even.”

Abigail’s cheeks flushed. For a time, she stood there, looking at me as if she was in shock at what was occurring. Without saying another word, she turned and raced out of the house, slamming the door so forcefully that the infant began to squirm.

Jake, who had been quietly observing from the kitchen, approached and shook his head while a tiny smile tugged at his mouth. “No one should mess with my wife,” he whispered, caressing my cheek and encircling me in his arms.

As we parted, I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You got that right,” I teased, settling down with the infant on the couch.

Rich put his head on my leg and trotted over, wagging his tail. I looked down at the tiny bundle in my arms as I rubbed his ears.

I felt calm at that moment. At least Abigail wouldn’t be pestering us about that $600 again, even if she didn’t learn her lesson. And, well, if she ever did The folder was still with me.

Let her give me a try.