When Tom’s eyes locked onto the empty space in our living room, a look of pure panic spread across his face. “Please tell me you didn’t…” he started, but it was already too late.
I’d been asking Tom to get rid of that old couch for months. “Tom,” I’d say, “when are you taking the couch out? It’s practically falling apart!”
“Tomorrow,” he’d mumble without looking up from his phone. Or sometimes, “Next weekend. I swear, this time for real.”
Spoiler alert: tomorrow never came.
Old worn out couch | Source: Midjourney
So, last Saturday, after watching that moldy piece of furniture use up half of our living room for another week, I finally snapped. I rented a truck, wrangled the thing out by myself, and took it straight to the dump. By the time I got back, I was pretty proud of myself.
When Tom got home later, he barely got past the entryway before his eyes went wide at the sight of the brand-new couch I’d bought. For a second, I thought he’d thank me, or at least smile.
But instead, he looked around, stunned. “Wait… what’s this?”
Man standing in his living room | Source: Midjourney
I smiled, gesturing at the couch. “Surprise! Finally got rid of that eyesore. It looks great, right?”
His face went pale, and he stared at me like I’d committed a crime. “You took the old couch… to the dump?”
“Well, yeah,” I said, taken aback. “You said you’d do it for months, Tom. It was disgusting!”
He gaped at me, panic flashing across his face. “Are you serious? You threw away the plan?!“
“What plan?” I asked.
He took a shaky breath, muttering to himself. “No, no, no… This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.“
Disappointed man in his living room | Source: Midjourney
“Tom!” I interrupted, starting to feel a little panicked myself. “What are you talking about?”
He looked up at me, eyes wide with fear. “I… I don’t have time to explain. Get your shoes. We have to go. Now.”
My stomach twisted as I stood there, trying to understand. “Go? Where are we going?”
“To the dump!” he snapped, heading for the door. “We have to get it back before it’s too late.”
Couple heading out | Source: Midjourney
“Too late for what?” I followed him, bewildered. “Tom, it’s a couch. A couch with, like, mold and broken springs! What could be so important?”
He paused at the door, turning back, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me,” I challenged, crossing my arms. “I’d like to know why you’re so desperate to dig through a pile of garbage for a couch.”
“I’ll explain on the way. Just trust me,” he said, gripping the doorknob and glancing back over his shoulder. “You have to trust me, okay?”
The way he looked at me — it sent a chill down my spine.
A couple leaving their house | Source: Midjourney
The drive to the dump was dead silent. I kept glancing at Tom, but he was laser-focused on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight. I’d never seen him like this, so completely panicked, and his silence was only making it worse.
“Tom,” I finally broke the silence, but he didn’t even flinch. “Can you just… tell me what’s going on?”
He shook his head, barely looking at me. “You’ll see when we get there.”
“See what?” I pressed, the frustration creeping into my voice. “Do you have any idea how insane this sounds? You dragged me out here for a couch. A couch, Tom!”
Couple in their car | Source: Midjourney
“I know, he muttered, eyes flicking over to me for a split second before returning to the road. “I know it sounds crazy, but you’ll understand when we find it.”
I crossed my arms, stewing in silence until we pulled up to the dump. Tom leaped out before I could say another word, sprinting toward the gate like his life depended on it.
He waved down one of the workers and, with a pleading edge in his voice, asked, “Please. My wife brought something here earlier. I need to get it back. It’s really important.”
The worker raised an eyebrow, glancing between us with a skeptical look, but something in Tom’s face must have convinced him. With a sigh, he let in. “All right, buddy. But you better move quick.”
Dumpsite | Source: Pexels
Tom darted ahead, searching the mountain of trash like a man possessed, his eyes scanning every heap as if they held priceless treasures. I felt ridiculous standing there, ankle-deep in the garbage, watching my husband dig through piles of discarded junk.
After what felt like ages, Tom’s head jerked up, eyes wide. “There!” he shouted, pointing. He scrambled over, practically throwing himself onto our old couch, which was lying sideways on the edge of a heap. Without missing a beat, he flipped it over, his hands diving into a small gap in the torn lining.
Man in a dumpsite standing next to an old couch | Source: Midjourney
“Tom, what—” I began, but then I saw him pull out a crumpled, yellowed piece of paper, delicate and worn with age. It looked like nothing—just a flimsy old paper with faded, uneven handwriting. I stared at it, completely baffled.
“This?” I asked, incredulous. “All this… for that?”
But then I looked at his face. He was staring at that paper like it was the answer to everything.
Tom’s hands were shaking, his eyes red and brimming with tears. I was frozen, unsure of what to do or say. In the five years we’d been together, I’d never seen him like this — so utterly broken, clutching that crumpled piece of paper like it was the most precious thing he’d ever held.
Man seated on an old couch reading a paper | Source: Midjourney
He took a deep breath, staring at the paper with an expression that was equal parts relief and sorrow. “This… this is the plan my brother and I made,” he finally said, his voice raw. “It’s our map of the house. Our… hideouts.”
I blinked, glancing at the paper he was holding so carefully. From here, it just looked like a scrap of faded, childlike scrawls. But when he held it out to me, his face crumbling as he handed it over, I took it and looked closer.
Woman standing next to an old couch in a dumpsite | Source: Midjourney
It was drawn in colored pencils, with wobbly handwriting and a little cartoonish map of rooms and spaces, was a layout of the house we lived in now. Labels dotted the rooms: “Tom’s Hideout” under the stairs, “Jason’s Castle” in the attic, and “Spy Base” by a bush in the backyard.
“Jason was my younger brother,” he murmured, barely able to get the words out. “We used to hide this map in the couch, like… it was our ‘safe spot.'” His voice was almost inaudible, lost in a memory that seemed to consume him.
I stared at him, struggling to piece together this revelation. Tom had never mentioned a brother before — not once.
Emotional woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney
He swallowed hard, his gaze somewhere far away. “When Jason was eight… there was an accident in the backyard. We were playing a game we made up.” He choked back a sob, and I could see how much it was costing him to go on. “I was supposed to be watching him, but I got distracted.”
My hand flew to my mouth, the weight of his words crashing down on me.
“He was climbing a tree… the one next to our Spy Base,” he said, a faint, bitter smile tugging at his lips. “He… he slipped. Fell from the top.”
“Oh, Tom…” I whispered, my own voice breaking. I reached out to him, but he seemed lost in the past.
Man and wife in a dumpsite | Source: Midjourney
“I blamed myself,” he continued, his voice breaking. “I still do, every day. That map… it’s all I have left of him. All the little hideouts we made together. It’s… it’s the last piece of him.” He wiped his face with his sleeve, but the tears kept coming.
I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close, feeling his pain in every sob that shook his body. It wasn’t just a couch. It was his link to a childhood he’d lost—and to a brother he could never bring back.
“Tom, I had no idea. I’m so sorry,” I said, hugging him tight.
Couple hugging in a dumpsite | Source: Midjourney
He took a shaky breath, wiping at his face. “It’s not your fault. I should have told you… but I didn’t want to remember how I messed up. Losing him… it felt like something I couldn’t ever put right.” His voice caught, and he closed his eyes for a long, silent moment.
Finally, he let out a long, steadying breath and gave a weak, almost embarrassed smile. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
The drive back was quiet, but a different kind of quiet. There was a lightness between us, as though we’d managed to bring something precious back with us, even if it was only a scrap of paper. For the first time, I felt like I understood this hidden part of him, the one he’d kept buried under years of silence.
Couple in a car | Source: Midjourney
That night, we took that yellowed, wrinkled map and placed it in a small frame, hanging it in the living room where we could both see it. Tom stood back, looking at it with something that wasn’t quite sorrowful anymore.
The shadow was still there, but softer somehow. I watched him, noticing for the first time in years that he seemed at peace.
Time passed, and the house was filled with new memories and little echoes of laughter that seemed to bring warmth to every corner.
Young family having breakfast | Source: Midjourney
A few years later, when our kids were old enough to understand, Tom sat them down, holding the framed map as he shared the story of the hideouts and “safe spots” he and Jason had created. I stood in the doorway, watching the kids’ eyes widen with wonder, drawn into this secret part of their father’s life.
One afternoon, I found the kids sprawled on the living room floor, crayons and pencils scattered around as they drew their own “map.” They looked up when they saw me, grinning with excitement.
Kids playing with crayons | Source: Midjourney
“Look, Mom! We have our own house map!” my son shouted, holding up their masterpiece. It was labeled with their own hideouts — Secret Lair in the closet, Dragon’s Lair in the basement.
Tom came over, his eyes shining as he looked at their creation. He knelt beside them, tracing the lines with a soft smile, as if they’d unknowingly given him back another small piece of what he’d lost.
“Looks like you’re carrying on the tradition,” he said, his voice full of warmth.
Our son looked up at him, his eyes bright. “Yeah, Dad. It’s our plan… just like yours.”
Man looking at his son | Source: Midjourney
17 Nannies Whose Adventures Could Fill a Best-Selling Novel
Some people view nannying as a simple job. Tasks like feeding children, reading them stories, and putting them to bed seem routine. However, that’s not always true. The people featured in our article shared their experiences caring for other people’s children, and now we wouldn’t dream of calling this profession dull.
I was 13 and was babysitting my neighbors’ kids. It was my first time, so the parents walked me through all the rules about the bathroom, TV, food, bedtime, etc. Just as the parents were taking off for the night, the mom came back in and whispered to me, “Don’t go into the basement.” As a teenager in the 80s, my mind went to all of the scariest movies that had basements. I avoided the door to the basement all night until I had put the kids to bed.
Then I walked slowly to the door and put my ear against it. I heard what sounded like whimpering. And then it sounded like sad laughing. I ran to the couch and started watching TV to get my mind off of it, but then I heard something fall in the basement and knew someone was down there. I really don’t know how I got the courage/stupidity to do it, but I went over and opened the door. The whining instantly got louder.
I went down just 3 or 4 stairs, so I could peek down… and I saw… a goat. Not a ghost. A goat. As soon as the goat saw me, he started bleating loudly. It scared me. I went upstairs, and the goat was still bleating loudly, so much that it woke up the kids.
The oldest girl came out and said, “Did you open the door to the basement?” I said, “Yeah, why?” She said, “When you do that, Carlos thinks you’re going to feed him, and he starts yelling.” Thank god I knew it was a goat first, because if she had said that before I went down, I would’ve thought Carlos was some kidnapped person in the basement who would yell for food.
It was very funny to me. The mom came home and I told her what happened, and she almost died laughing. They were repairing the goat pen and had to keep him in the basement for a few days. I still remember every moment of that night vividly. © Unknown author / RedditIn my early twenties, I would babysit a set of twins on the weekend once in a while. Their mom was super beautiful, and she was always going on dates.
One night, she told me she met a guy and was going on a date with him. She left at 6 and said she’d be back around midnight. Well, pushing 1 a.m., I’m thinking maybe she’s running late. 2 a.m., 3 a.m… I’m calling and calling her and finally her phone just goes to voice mail. I wake up, and it’s 7 a.m. and she still isn’t back.
I finally found the grandparent’s number in an address book. I call her parents, and they don’t even seem phased. They just seem annoyed like this is business as usual but tell me they’ll be over to sit with the twins, so I can leave. I call the non-emergency police number and explain what’s going on and that the grandparents are on their way.
I stick around for another hour, and then she pulls up wearing a men’s t-shirt, and heels, and she’s laughing. She says jokingly, “Oh my god! Call the police!” I never sat for her again. She just ended up staying with the guy all night and turned her phone off so she couldn’t be bothered. She truly thought I’d dismiss it like it was no big deal. © Kikabennet / Reddit
- The dad of the kids I watched liked me on Tinder. Then, when I told his wife, and she didn’t believe me, he convinced her that “his Facebook was hacked.” The kids were almost always wonderful. © marymoon77 / Reddit
- I work as a nanny in the family of a big businessman. At first, I worked several times a week, then I started living in their house. The head of the family works almost round the clock, his wife doesn’t notice anything but clothes, spas, and fitness.
Yesterday, their 5-year-old son stole money from his father’s safe, came to me, and said we should run away together. I returned the money immediately, but how to explain to a child why I love him more than his mother, I don’t know… © Overheard / Ideer - I’m a nanny, and I heard her first word (it was hippo). But the family won’t ever know that. Some secrets are better to keep. © positivityfox / Reddit
- First babysitting job at 13. Four kids. My parents gave me a whole fresh salmon to COOK and serve the kids. I learned that day that salmon has pin bones when I had to pull some out of the 3-year-old’s throat while simultaneously calling my parents down the road because I didn’t know what to do, as he was coughing and gasping for air. He was fine, but I think I lost 10 years of my life that day. © nah2daysun / Reddit
- A lady tried to dump 2 extra kids on me without paying when she realized I was babysitting her neighbor’s kids. Her rationale was that I was already babysitting 2 kids and 2 more wasn’t that much, so I should watch her kids for free and let them eat her neighbor’s food. © CaptDeliciousPants / Reddit
- I’m not a nanny, but I’ve been babysitting a girl on and off from when she was 5 to 7 now.
Her: What is that?
Me: Pineapple
Her: Oh, I’ve never had pineapple.
Me: Do you want to try it?
She does this about everything, too. I asked her mom if she had ever had pineapple, and she was like of course, she has! Then I realized she was just trying to eat my food. © Kacidillaa / Reddit - I nannied for a wealthy couple, and the husband had a study in the house that the wife joked about never being allowed in. Now, I’m nosy, and I was curious about why you wouldn’t let someone in a study, especially since it looked like a fairly normal room: big desk, walls covered in bookshelves, books of architecture everywhere.
So one day I just roamed around in there. I didn’t find anything, and I was kinda disappointed, but then I grabbed a book off one of the shelves. The thing had money pressed between its pages — about $500 if I had to guess. Picked up another book, and found the same thing.
I think I checked like ten different books, and every single one had money hidden in it. Still not sure if the dude was just paranoid about banks or if he was intentionally hiding money from his wife. © Unknown author / Reddit - I babysat two neighbor kids one time. I had a lot of experience babysitting, but it was my first time with this particular family. The little boy was about 5, and the little girl was maybe 7. Their parents left very specific instructions for bedtime, and they were kept on a very strict schedule. I thankfully had my best friend with me at the time, we were probably 15.
Bedtime came around, and after several warnings, we told them it was time to get upstairs, get into PJs, and carry on with their bedtime routine. They went ballistic. The little boy started tearing the cushions off their leather couch, tossing them everywhere, and biting a hole in the arm of the couch. While I was trying to deal with him, my best friend was trying to get the little girl upstairs when she ran into the kitchen, dumped their entire mop bucket of dirty water on the floor, and started sliding around in it. As soon as the couch-chewer saw the fun his sister was having, he joined in.
I ended up calling my mom for reinforcement, and never babysat for that family again. © soxxyrocks / Reddit
- So the father of the kid works for a major athletic apparel company, and every year they need to test the upcoming year’s potential pieces. To do that, the company sends one of every potential piece to all female employees and female spouses.
Well, the mother is pregnant right now and can’t fit into any of the items, so the father made me a cup of tea and asked me to sit down in the living room (what he does whenever he wants to talk to me about something) and says, “I know we’re not paying you to do this, but would you be willing to test all of the sample pieces my company sent me? You can keep them afterward.”
Yes! Y’all, no kidding, he just handed me 6 boxes of athletic clothing that have to total thousands of dollars. © pineappleprincesspie / Reddit - I was in the living room, watching Sister, Sister,when all of a sudden I heard a man say, “Hello.” I check the front door and look out the window at the driveway, the parents aren’t home. Go upstairs and check the kids, they’re both still in bed.
Go back downstairs, and hear it again, from the darkened dining room, “Hello, I am Armando.” They had a parrot. © Unknown author / Reddit - I only babysat once, and it was nothing horrible. These people had a huge rich house, and everything looked great, but when it was time for the kids’ bed, I figured I’d read them a bedtime story. I searched through that magnificent house and couldn’t find a single solitary book. © TRIGMILLION / Reddit
- So, it is that time of the month for me. I go into the bathroom, and while unwrapping a feminine hygiene product, the kid yells from outside the door, “I can hear you eating candy in there!” It made my day and made me wish that I was eating candy. © HalleysComet5 / Reddit
- I was working as a nanny, and the children’s mother once told me, “My husband doesn’t think we should pay you for when the girls are sleeping…” They were 4 months and 2 years old.
I was a junior in high school and responded, “Okay, so should I duck out once I tuck them in?” I wouldn’t have done that, but I think at that point she realized how ridiculous her request was. © reckate / Reddit - I had a phone interview with a mom that went well, so we met in person for a second interview with her husband and 4 children. It went well until she explained her nanny was fired for having an affair with her husband and how their new nanny needed better morals and to limit her interaction with her husband (who was sitting there the whole time with us).
I’ve never felt more awkward in my whole life as she told me that I’m pretty but thankfully not his type as he just nodded his head. I just find it irritating how it’s the nanny’s fault when her husband also had the affair, and how the nanny needs morals when her husband doesn’t. So yeah, definitely not accepting this job! © thisisdevon- / Reddit
Working as a regular nanny is challenging enough, so imagine being a nanny for a royal family. There are strict rules to follow, such as being allowed to wear only specific types of jewelry.
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