Jane’s employers plan a luxurious holiday away, tagging her along to look after their children. While they promised that they would take care of all the expenses, it is only when they return home that they demand that Jane play her part and pay for her plane tickets. But Jane won’t give up that easily.“Jane, can you come into the living room?” Mrs. Smith called out, her teaspoon clinking as she stirred sugar into the cup of tea Melanie, the helper, had just given her. I was tidying up the playroom. “Now, please,” she added. Her tone was sweet, but something felt off. I walked into the living room, trying to keep my nerves at bay. “Sure, Mrs. Smith. What’s up?” I replied, wiping the disinfectant onto my jeans. She was sitting on the couch, perfectly poised as always. Not even a strand of hair out of place. Mr. Smith was seated beside her, his phone in his hand. He gave me a tight smile.“
Jane, we need to talk about the vacation.” I nodded, curious. We had been home for two days now. Back from our trip to the seaside, staying in a luxurious resort. It was almost the break I needed, minus the fact that I had the Smiths’ three children, and their friends, the Johnsons’ two sons to care for as well. I was just doing my job in a fancier location. “Of course,” I said. “It was a lovely trip. Thank you again for inviting me.” “Yes, well,” Mrs. Smith started. “We need to discuss the plane tickets. When will you be able to return the $1000?”I blinked. I was sure that I had misheard her. “Sorry, $1000? For the tickets? What?” “Yes, for the tickets, Jane,” she spoke slowly as if I was stupid. “We spent a lot on them, and we thought you’d be grateful enough to pay us back.” My heart raced. I didn’t have that kind of money to spare. I was their full-time nanny, with a mother to care for at home. “ But you told me that everything was sorted. You said, ‘Don’t worry about it, Jane. We’ve got it all covered.’” Mrs. Smith’s expression hardened. Mr. Smith gazed at me.“That was before the Johnsons refused to sign a business deal with Craig. That was the entire purpose of the holiday. Mr. Smith and I needed to woo them. So, there’s no need to seem generous now, Jane. You have exactly one week to return the money, or it will be taken from your pay.” I was stunned. The room felt like it was spinning. “But… I can’t afford that, Mrs. Smith,” I admitted. “Most of my salary goes to the rent at home and my mother’s medication. I can’t take that away from her. And you didn’t mention anything about paying you back!” “That’s not our problem, Jane. One week,” Mr. Smith reiterated, reaching for a croissant from the tea tray left for Mrs. Smith. With a wave of his hand, he signaled the end of the discussion. That night, I sat in my tiny room a few feet away from the Smiths’ house. I was seething. How could they do this? I needed a plan, and I needed it fast.Then it hit me: the Smiths cared deeply about their social standing and their reputation. “Of course, that’s all they care about,” I muttered to myself as I brushed my teeth before bed. “But I can use that to my advantage.” The next day, after I dropped the kids off at school, I created a fake email account. I drafted a polite but detailed message about my experience, making sure to be clear without naming any names. But there were enough telltale signs pointing to the Smiths, from their cars to the kids, to the gold facial appointments that Mrs. Smith bragged about. Thereafter, I sent it to the key people in their social circle, including the other influential families that the Smiths wanted to be in league with.“I just don’t understand what they want from us,” I overheard Mrs. Smith say into the phone later that day. “Eva asked me if everything is true, but I don’t know what she’s talking about.” A few days later, the gossip started spreading. The Smiths’ dirty little secret on how they treated “their staff” was out, and naturally, their reputation took a hit. Mrs. Smith called in a masseuse to soothe her muscles. “Just let them into the spa when they arrive, Jane,” she said. “I need all the help I can get.” Later that day, when I went to pick the kids up from school, the other nannies were hanging about, waiting for the bell to ring.“Did you read the email about the Smiths?” one of the nannies said. “Jane, are they really like that?” I nodded. “They’re good parents, but they’re horrible people,” I admitted, not wanting to give away that I was the person who sent out the email. “How long will you work for them?” another asked me. “I couldn’t live or work under those circumstances. Rich people need to learn that respect for them is earned, too.” I smiled. The nannies went back and forth as we waited. And through their chatter, I discovered something interesting about Mrs. Smith.Turns out that my employer had a habit of “borrowing” items from her friends and never returning them. “An entire Gucci handbag, Jane,” Mina said. “Mrs. Smith asked my ma’am if she could borrow it for a fundraising gala two months ago.” “That’s ridiculous!” I said, shocked. “I didn’t know that she was capable of that sort of thing. But she doesn’t like me getting too close to her things anyway.” A few days later, Mrs. Smith held one of her ladies’ luncheons. It was a monthly event that she loved hosting, but this time it was only two weeks into the month. “I need this to go well, Jane,” she said as I cut fruit up for the kids. “So, you need to attend it. The kids will be at school. Everything will be catered for. Just walk around and talk to the women. Make us seem human.”I knew that she was puzzling. She must have heard more than enough through the grapevine. During the event, I walked around as requested of me. But I wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip. And I had nothing to lose. The Smiths were probably going to fire me at the end of the week when I couldn’t make the $1000. “We’ll deal with it, darling,” my mother coughed into the phone when I told her the truth of the matter. At the luncheon, I walked around, casually mentioning to the ladies how much I admired Mrs. Smith’s collection, making sure that I spoke to Eva, Mina’s employer. “Mrs. Smith has a stunning handbag similar to yours,” I said. “Gucci. Did she lend you this one? She’s always telling me that she lends her things out because she has so much.”Eva looked at me over the top of her champagne glass. “Is that so, Jane?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. Whispers started circulating. By the end of the luncheon, Mrs. Smith’s reputation for borrowing without returning was the hot topic. The next morning, her friends began asking for their things back. Mrs. Smith was mortified. During dinner the next night, Mr. Smith called me to the table, asking me to join them. “Thank you, but I usually wait for Ivy and Melanie to eat,” I said politely, mentioning the chef and her helper. “No, sit with us,” he insisted. I obliged. Despite his tone, I hoped that maybe he was going to tell me that the money could be forgotten. And that everything would return as normal. “It has come to my attention that an anonymous email has gone out,” he said, cutting into his steak. “A disgusting email,” Mrs. Smith added, taking a long sip of her wine. “Did you have anything to do with it?” he asked me, his eyes trying to coax a confession out of me. I shook my head, looking down at my plate. “Then that settles it,” he said, knowingly. “You’re dismissed. You can pack up and get out tomorrow.” I did exactly as I was told and moved back home. A week later, Mrs. Johnson called me. “Jane, can you come over for tea?” she asked warmly. “Of course, Mrs. Johnson,” I replied, curious about the nature of the invitation. As we sat in her luxurious living room, she looked at me with genuine concern. “I heard about what the Smiths did to you. It’s disgraceful.” I nodded, trying to keep my composure. “Well,” she continued. “We’ve decided to cut ties with the Smiths entirely. And we’d like to offer you a job. Better pay, better working conditions. We could use someone like you for our kids.” I was stunned. “Of course!” I exclaimed. I needed the job desperately. “You’ve earned it,” she smiled. “The boys loved having you watch them during the holiday. And somehow, you got Jonathan to eat his peas!” I don’t know how the Smiths reacted to me working for the Johnsons, but I hoped that they felt betrayed. What would you have done?
Mom Leaves Note On “Disrespectful” Son’s Door, And Now It’s Going Viral
Being a parent to a cocky, disrespectful teenager is far from easy, and different parents have different approaches to get their children to behave.
One mom, Heidi Johnson, wrote a handwritten letter to her son, Aaron, and shared it on Facebook. She didn’t intend for the post to go viral. She didn’t even intend to make the post public. It was supposed to just be for friends to see, but she does not regret her post or the fact that it’s public.
In the letter to her 13-year-old son, Johnson reprimanded her son treating her like a “roommate.” She went on to give him an itemized bill for rent, food, etc that totaled over $700. If he was going to treat her like a roommate instead of his mom, she would do the same.
Johnson signed the note, “Love Mom,” and she truly does love her son. She followed up the post with another post explaining some backstory to the situation. She also reassured parents who were criticizing her that “I am not going to put my 13 year old on the street if he can’t pay his half of the rent. I am not wanting him to pay anything. I want him to take pride in his home, his space, and appreciate the gifts and blessings we have.”
She added that she never intended for Aaron to pay the bill. Instead, she wanted him to “gain an appreciation of what things cost.” The reason Johnson wrote the note was to make sure her son understood “what life would look like if I was not his ‘parent,’ but rather a ‘roommate.’ It was a lesson about gratitude and respect from the very beginning.”
Johnson also explained that before she wrote the note, her son had lied about doing his homework, and when she told him she was going to restrict his internet access, he responded, “Well, I am making money now.” She explained that the money he was referring to was a little bit of income he was making from his YouTube channel, but not nearly enough to pay for food and rent.
The public note has not hurt Johnson’s relationship with her son. She explained, “He and I still talk as openly as ever. He has apologized multiple times.”
Johnson has also had parents turning to her for advice since she posted the note to her son. She explains, “My post seems to have opened a door, and people feel safe coming to me and asking for advice, venting, or even just have someone bear witness to their experience by listening and opening up and sharing a piece of myself in return.”
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