My SIL Said She’d Be Back in an Hour—She Returned the Next Morning in a Bridesmaid Dress
My SIL Asked Me to Watch Her Kids for an Hour—Then Came Back the Next Morning Wearing a Bridesmaid Dress
When I was asked to keep my sister-in-law’s children for “just an hour,” I had to cancel my dinner reservation with a friend.
As if nothing had happened, she only appeared the following morning wearing a bridesmaid dress. I showed her something else after realising that unrestrained charity taught entitled people the wrong lessons.
I occasionally ponder whether getting the word “doormat” permanently inked on my forehead might save time for everyone. People like my sister-in-law, who are desperate for favours they don’t intend to return, would at least know exactly what they’re getting when they text me at the last minute.
At the worst possible time, my phone was illuminated by a text message from my SIL Brianna. My college roommate, Kate, who had been in town for precisely twenty-four hours, was getting ready for supper.
“Hi, Mia! A quick favour? I have a small errand to run. Can you spend an hour watching the children? Pretty urgent, pls.
I sighed as I looked at my partially applied mascara in the bathroom mirror. Kate and I made reservations months in advance at Harvest Table, the new farm-to-table restaurant downtown. However, it was only one hour, correct?
“What time do you need to drop them off?” I typed after lingering my fingers over the keyboard.
The answer came right away: “You’re an angel! Arrive in fifteen minutes!”
I told Kate via text that I would make it to dinner even though I would be a bit late. After that, I swapped my dress and high heels for jeans and a t-shirt. There is no reason to expose silk to spaghetti stains.
After precisely ten minutes, the doorbell rang. Brianna was standing there with flawless hair, dressed in pants and a casual top that looked expensive. Her three children, Zoe, 2, Liam, 4, and Emma, 6, were restless on my porch steps behind her.
Brianna cried out, kissing each child on the forehead and virtually leaping towards her SUV. “You are literally saving my life,” she said. “I’ll be back before you know it!”
I yelled after her, “Wait,” “Where are you…?”
However, she had already backed out of my driveway, locked the door, and waved. I saw that it was 3:45 p.m.
Emma chirped, “Aunt Mia,” and pulled at my shirt. “Mom said you have cookies.”
I mustered a smile as I gazed down at their eager faces. “Well, let’s see what we can find.”
My living room looked like a toy store following a cyclone by 5:30 p.m. I sent Brianna two texts, but she didn’t reply. Kate had texted earlier to ask if we could move dinner to 8:00.
“When’s Mommy coming back?” Liam enquired, his bottom lip quivering a little.
“Soon,” I said, but I was starting to have my doubts. “Hey, who wants to help me make spaghetti?”
Emma’s eyes glowed. “With the twirly noodles?”
“Is there any other kind?” Thankful for the diversion, I winked.
I tried phoning Brianna as I warmed sauce and boiled water. Directly to voicemail. “Hey, just checking when you might be back,” I wrote in my message. I had plans for evening, but the kids are all right.”
By 6:45 p.m., Zoe was screaming at an orange vegetable while I was cleaning tomato sauce off the kitchen floor.
She cried out, pointing to a young carrot on her plate, “It’s looking at me!” “The carrot is scary!”
Emma remarked, “Carrots don’t have eyes, silly,” with all the arrogance a six-year-old could exert.
“THIS ONE DOES!” Tears were running down Zoe’s cheeks as her face collapsed.
I grabbed the offending carrot and proceeded to bite off its head. “You see? Everything is gone. No more frightful carrots.
Zoe sniffed, wondering if this was a good enough remedy. Kate texted me, “Should I just get takeaway and come to you?” as my phone buzzed in the meantime.
“I’m really sorry,” I responded back. Is there a rain check? a family emergency.
Something heavy and icy settled in my gut as I pushed submit. There was no emergency here. Once more, Brianna was using this situation.
I had given up on ever hearing from my sister-in-law by 8:30 p.m. The children required baths. Zoe smelt like she had been rolling in a hamster cage, and Liam had somehow gotten spaghetti sauce in his hair.
I said, “Okay, bath time troops,” while attempting to sound upbeat.
“But Mom always lets us stay up late!” Emma objected.
I arched an eyebrow. “Interesting, but you’ve never stayed overnight here before.”
Emma’s culpable expression validated my suspicion. “All right. However, Bubbles Bear is necessary during bath time.
“Who’s Bubbles Bear?”
I was met with the stares of three terrified faces.
Liam carefully said, “He’s… he’s for the bath,” as though I were the youngster. “Mom always brings him.”
Fantastic. No peace during bath time, no Bubbles Bear. I discovered an old rubber duck after scurrying through my linen closet. “Look who I’ve located! Ducky desires a bath.
The rubber duck was considered a suitable alternative. I was completely saturated by the time all three were cleaned, and my bathroom appeared to have been struck by a tsunami.
Emma gave me a stern look as I tucked them into my guest room bed.
“Is Mommy coming back tonight?”
My heart twisted. “She is, of course, my dear. She is simply running late.
“All right. Good night, Aunt Mia.
Before midnight, I made four more attempts to phone Brianna. Straight to voicemail every time. “Hey, do you know where Brianna is?” I texted my brother Danny as well. Hours ago, she left the children with me.
He didn’t respond either. which implied that wherever they were, they were together.
Knowing that I wouldn’t actually sleep, I made a bed on the couch. I kept checking on every little noise coming from the kids’ room and every creak in the house. Can you imagine if Zoe slipped out of bed? What if Liam has a bad dream? What if Emma had to drink some water?
My concerns came true at 2:13 a.m. when tiny footsteps padded into the living room.
“Aunt Mia?” The darkness made Liam’s voice tremble. “I threw up.”
Clean linens, ginger ale, and assurances filled the following hour. I was fully awake by the time Liam went back to sleep, a knot of rage growing in my chest with every hour that went by.
Cartoons and cheerios greeted the morning, but Brianna had not responded.
The children demonstrated remarkable resilience, establishing a play rhythm that required little assistance from their aunt, who resembled a zombie.
Just at 9:03 a.m., I heard someone knock.
The door opened to reveal my sister-in-law wearing a dusty pink bridesmaid dress, with her full makeup still in place and her expertly styled hair slightly mussed. She was holding a tiny gift bag in one hand and a Starbucks cup in the other.
The woman exclaimed, “Oh my god, you are a literal saint,” as though she had simply stepped out for milk. “The wedding went so late… then we all stayed at the hotel, and my phone died completely.”
I gaped in shock as I looked at her. The children gathered around their mother, talking about Ducky, the bear substitute, and terrifying carrots.
After putting down her coffee, Brianna opened the present bag. “I got you something for being such a lifesaver.” She produced a glittering bath bomb and displayed it as though it were a priceless jewel. It’s eucalyptus lavender! For the sake of stress!”
With computations running through my head, I took it automatically. 18 hours. Not a warning. No exchange of messages. And I got a bath bomb as payment?
“The wedding?” At last, I succeeded. “What wedding?”
Brianna responded, “Oh, Melissa’s cousin’s wedding,” as though that clarified everything. “Bridesmaid replacement at the last minute. I believed I had already mentioned that.
“You didn’t. You mentioned “just an hour” and “quick errand.”
Brianna was gracious enough to appear a little ashamed. “Well, you know how these things go, but it was meant to be brief. In any case, you’re the greatest.
With unexpected efficiency, she collected the possessions of her children. “I think we ought to start. You have stuff to do, I’m sure.
“Yes. I did have tasks to complete. Last night.
However, Brianna was already skilfully avoiding my remark by guiding her kids towards the door. “Say thank you to Aunt Mia!”
They all said, “Thank you, Aunt Mia,” together.
I glanced down at the bath bomb in my hand as the door shut behind them. It seemed to be a thousand pounds in weight.
I sat down at my computer that afternoon and made an invoice. I meticulously listed every meal, every hour, and every annoyance. When I was done, I immediately pushed submit and attached it to an email that was sent to Danny and Brianna.
My phone exploded with Brianna’s ringtone five minutes later.
“Have you lost your mind?” She screamed. “$620? for keeping an eye on your nieces and nephews.”
I clarified, “For watching them overnight with no notice,” “For putting my plans on hold. for waking up at two in the morning with a sick child. for not being regarded as family but as free labour.
“But we’re related! Family members support one another.
“They do, really. Additionally, family members respect one another’s time and don’t pretend to be running “quick errands” when they’re actually at weddings outside of town.
“I told the truth! Simply put, I didn’t tell you all.”
“That’s the definition of a lie of omission, Brianna.”
“You’ve always had a lot of drama. Danny agrees.
“Really? But why didn’t Danny offer to watch the kids for free?
It was quite satisfying to hear the quiet on the other end.
When Brianna finally answered, “This isn’t over,” her voice was icy. “You’ve made things really awkward.”
“No, Brianna. When you dropped off three kids without a car seat, an overnight bag, or the grace to call, you did that.
Before she could answer, I hung up. My phone rang with a payment notification twenty minutes later. Danny had sent the entire sum, plus a tip of $30.
I ran into Brianna at a family get-together a few weeks later. By expressing niceties without engaging in genuine discussion, we had mastered the art of polite distancing.
During Thanksgiving dinner with my parents, my cousin Tyler grinned and lifted his glass. “Hey, who is keeping an eye on the youngsters while the football game is going on? You should first check Mia’s pricing.
Uncomfortable laughing broke out at the table. Danny appeared uneasy. Mom gave Tyler a stern look. Brianna, too? As she pushed the turkey about with her fork, she gazed at her dish.
I simply took a drink of wine and grinned. Like a glittering memento of that fatal night, the bath bomb remains unused on my bathroom shelf. I prefer to have it there as a little remembrance of the day I finally stood up for myself, but occasionally I consider using it.
That day, I learnt a great lesson from life: People who treat their families like free labour shouldn’t be shocked when they get the bill. And occasionally, you should respect yourself more than any other family member.
