My Boyfriend Brought His Dirty Shirt to My Job—His Reason Left Me Speechless

Katie believed she had seen it all when Liam, her boyfriend, stormed into her office with a blouse smeared with ketchup and demanded that she wash it. However, what began as a bold request evolved into a well-thought-out lesson in accountability.

I’m a nurse named Katie. Even though working long, busy shifts is taxing, I have loved my job for years.

Being a nurse entails providing patient care, maintaining composure under duress, and quickly resolving issues. All of that didn’t, however, prepare me for the mayhem that my boyfriend Liam brought into my life.

Before we moved in together, we had been dating for around a year. I didn’t give it much thought, even though I knew Liam and his mother were close.

When he needed help with small things, like how to properly cook chicken or what brand of detergent to buy, he called her. It struck me as charming, even charming. Until we moved in together, that is.

I went to work my regular 12-hour shift at the hospital on the first day of our new apartment. Liam barged into the lobby at midday, right as I was taking a breather in the break room. Holding a white button-down shirt with a huge crimson stain across the front, he appeared agitated.

He yelled, “Katie!” loudly enough to fill the room. Everyone’s heads turned, including patients and coworkers.

“Liam?” I walked out to meet him and asked. “What are you doing here?”

He displayed the garment as though it were proof in a legal proceeding. “I need you to wash this. It’s necessary for tonight.”

I blinked. “Pardon me? I’m working.

Indeed, but don’t hospitals have washing machines? You could simply throw it in a scrub washer or something. Or you can quickly return home. When I had something significant, my mom always took care of these things for me.

“Liam,” I whispered softly, “you want me to leave work, go home, and wash your shirt… because you spilled ketchup on it?”

His expression softened as though this were the most sensible thing he could ask for. It’s for dinner at that upscale restaurant on Sam’s birthday. This is not how I can go. It will just take a few minutes, darling, so hurry up.”

The receptionist tried and failed to conceal her laughter with a snort. I looked around, my cheeks flushed. Despite their smirks, some of my coworkers were acting as though they weren’t watching.

I managed a tight smile as I responded, “I’ll take care of it,” “Give me the shirt, and after it’s dry and clean, I’ll take it to the restaurant. There, you can change in the restroom.

His expression brightened. “You see? I knew you would comprehend. Thank you, sweetie. You are the greatest. After giving me the clothing, he left without acknowledging the irony in my statements.

For a while, I stood there looking at the soiled clothing I was holding. Cheryl, my manager, came over and smiled knowingly while shaking her head.

Cheryl let out a loud, uncontrollable chuckle. “You’re dealing with a mama’s boy, honey. Will you allow him to get away with it?”

“No way,” I replied, a faint smile beginning to appear on my face. “I have an idea, though.”

Cheryl laughed. “Relax for the remainder of the day. You deserve it. However, only if you intend to discipline this boy.

I said, “Thanks,” and reached for my backpack. I felt a surge of resolve as I walked away. I was eager to watch Liam’s reaction, but he had no idea what was about to happen.

I was already calling Liam’s mother as I was driving home from the hospital. Her upbeat voice answered the phone after it rang twice.

“Hey, Katie! What’s up with my fave nurse? “Brightly,” she said.

Hello, Mrs. Harper. I am… Okay, but I need to discuss Liam with you.

Her voice changed instantly. “Oh no, what’s he done?”

I inhaled deeply. “He insisted that I wash his ketchup-stained shirt when he arrived at work today. at the medical facility. while I was working.”

A pause was followed by a gulp. “What did he do? That boy’s behavior is inappropriate for his age. Katie, I’m very sorry. This will be handled by me. How may I be of assistance?

I smiled, glad that she was on board. “I have an idea, actually. Tonight, dad expects me to bring the cleaned clothing to the eatery. Would you mind coming in place of that? Perhaps give it a little something extra special for him.”

I got to the restaurant that night around twenty minutes after Liam and his pals were supposed to show up. The sound of glasses and silverware clinking blended with laughter and discussion.

In order to watch covertly, I located a table hidden away in a corner. Excellent.

Mrs. Harper entered a few minutes later with a garment bag containing the recently laundered and ironed shirt. She appeared calm and self-assured, but I could tell she was prepared to put on a show by the sparkle in her eye.

She waved briefly as soon as she saw me. I pointed to Liam’s table, where he and his pals had just taken a seat.

With her heels clicking on the floor, Mrs. Harper strode straight up to the table. She was noisy enough to get other diners’ attention.

“Hey Liam! She exclaimed, “Sweetheart!” while holding the clothing bag up like a valuable item.

When Liam noticed her, his head jerked up and his smile vanished. His friends halted, their startled eyes darting between him and Mrs. Harper.

“Mom?” With his face already flushed, Liam croaked.

“I washed your shirt for you!” she exclaimed cheerfully as she removed the garment bag with a flourish. She displayed the immaculate white garment to the world. “I couldn’t allow you to appear disorganized. Additionally, I have stain remover wipes on hand in case you need them, so don’t worry.”

At first, his friends snickered quietly, but after a few seconds, one of them gave a loud clap. “Aw, look at Mommy taking care of her little boy!”

“Yeah, Liam,” someone else added. “Next time, just have her pack your lunch too!”

Liam got to his feet, almost ripping the shirt out of his mother’s hands, his ears burning red. “Thanks, Mom,” he said, his teeth clenched.

Mrs. Harper, however, was not finished. She patted his cheek just to be safe, then reached up and fixed his collar. “Honey, you’re welcome. Now keep in mind what I always say: use sauces with caution and keep napkins in your lap.

There was laughter around the table. Liam made an effort to chuckle along, but it sounded strained and feeble. Even a server who was walking by grinned, and his pals were practically crying.

I was laughing uncontrollably from where I was sitting in the corner. It was all and more to watch Liam writhe beneath his mother’s fretting.

And then he saw me.

His mouth fell open as our gazes locked across the room. In an instant his embarrassment gave way to insight. You didn’t, he said with a little shake of his head.

I simply smiled nicely and lifted my glass.

Liam rushed to my table, holding on to the garment as if it were his lifeline. His expression was one of humiliation and irritation, and he came in close and yelled in a whisper, “What the hell, Katie? You involved my mother?”

I cocked my head, a grin barely concealed. “You mentioned that your mother always took care of you in this way. I hoped the nostalgia would be appreciated by you.

With a moan, he ran a palm across his face. “All right, I understand. I was acting rudely. Especially when you were at work, I shouldn’t have thrown my filth on you in that manner. I apologize.

I remarked, “Good start,” and raised an eyebrow.

He let out a sigh. “And I promise I’ll stop relying on you or my mom for stuff I should handle myself.”

I leaned forward a little and grinned. “I only wanted to hear that. Just make sure you never do this again.

He said, “Deal,” turning back to his table. One of his friends was pretending to kiss his cheek while they continued to giggle. Liam moaned once more. “I’m never going to live this down.”

I watched with a sense of satisfaction as Liam padded back to his seat. Establishing limits and training him to accept responsibility were more important than simply avoiding embarrassment.

Liam made his first attempt at doing laundry by himself later that week. Three times he phoned me from the laundry room. He ended up unintentionally shrinking one of his favorite sweaters.

I quipped, “You’re lucky you’re cute,” as he displayed the toddler-sized sweater.

Liam gave a sheepish smile. “I’m trying.”

I shook my head and laughed. At least he was learning, but he still had a long way to go.

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