A wealthy young woman makes fun of the janitor at her father’s company, and he decides to teach her a lesson she will never forget.
Danielle Grobber had always gotten what she wanted. She was pretty, smart, talented, and very, very rich. At least, her father was very rich, and she always thought his money belonged to her.
Danielle, or Danie, as her friends called her, was a bit spoiled, but she usually used her charm and bright smile to get out of trouble. Then she crossed a line, and her father gave her a lesson she would never forget.
Danielle was excited to go on a two-week vacation to the Caribbean. She had convinced her father to take her shopping, even though she didn’t really need anything; she just loved spending time with him.
Unfortunately, her dad had to skip their lunch to handle some urgent matters. So, Danielle wandered around until she found a famous fast food restaurant. She ordered a burger, fries, a large soda, and an apple pie.
After getting her food, she walked back to her dad’s building, which had a nice lawn with trees, benches, and fountains. She sat down to eat while texting her friends on her phone.
When she finished, she wiped her mouth, crumpled the napkin, and put on her lipstick. Then she got up and walked away, leaving the trash on the bench.
A voice suddenly stopped her. “Excuse me, miss!” it said. “Please pick up your trash and throw it in the bin.”
Danie turned around and saw a thin old man in a janitor’s uniform who was sweeping the path. “Excuse me?” she asked. “Are you talking to ME?”
“Yes, young lady,” he replied. “This park is for everyone who works here, and it’s not fair to leave trash behind.”
“I don’t clean up!” Danie said proudly. “People clean up for me. People like you—the servant class. Isn’t that your job? So just do it!”
The elderly man turned red. “Young lady,” he said. “My job is to keep this building and garden clean, but what you did is rude…”
Danie interrupted him. “You work for my father, so you work for me! If I tell you to clean up, you clean up. If I tell you to lick my shoes, you do that too, or I’ll get you fired!”
Just then, Danie heard a loud voice: “DANIELLE!” She turned to see her father looking very angry. “Who do you think you are?” Jack Grobber asked. “How dare you treat this man poorly? He has worked for me for over 20 years, and he has a family!”
“Daddy?” Danie said in her sweetest voice. “Please don’t be mad! I’m so sorry!” But her father saw a hint of mockery in her smile. Danie thought she would get away with it, just like always.
“Apologize to Mr. Terence, Danielle,” Jack ordered. He watched as she turned to the janitor, trying to act charming, but he knew it was fake.
Jack thought, “It’s my fault. I have to fix this!” But how could he change a lifetime of being spoiled and teach her about respect and responsibility?
Then he had a great idea. “Mr. Terence, you look tired!” he said. “I think you need a vacation!”
Mr. Terence smiled and shook his head. “My wife says the same, Mr. Grobber, but I’m saving my vacation days for Christmas with the grandkids!”
“That’s okay, Mr. Terence,” Jack said. “I’m giving you two weeks off and an all-expenses-paid trip to the Bahamas for you and your wife!”
Mr. Terence was shocked. “Sir? The Bahamas? But who will do my job?”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Terence,” Jack said with a smile. “My daughter Danielle will be happy to do your job while you’re away to make up for how she treated you.”
“WHAT?” screamed Danie. “Are you crazy, Dad? I’m going on vacation!”
“Not anymore,” Jack said. “Mr. and Mrs. Terence will go instead, and you will take his place while he is away.”
“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!” Danie yelled. “I’m not a janitor! Cleaning toilets? Sweeping? Picking up trash? I won’t do it!”
“Yes, you will,” her father said coldly. “If you don’t, I’ll cut off your allowance and take away your convertible…”
“It’s MY car!” Danie cried.
“No, Danielle,” Jack said softly. “It’s MY car. I pay for it all. Everything you have is because of me. It’s time you learn how hard people work for every dollar.”
Danie knew her father well, and she could see in his eyes that she had crossed a line. He would not change his mind!
“You start on Monday,” Jack told her. Then he turned to Mr. Terence. “You should go home and pack! Enjoy your trip!”
On Monday morning, Danie showed up in her uniform, ready to clean and sweep. By the end of the day, she was exhausted, her pretty nails were ruined, and her soft hands were sore.
When Mr. Terence returned from the Bahamas with a nice tan, he told Mr. Grobber that Danielle had done a great job keeping everything clean—no trash in the garden!
From then on, Danie never disrespected anyone who worked hard because she understood how tough that job really was!
Danielle was excited to go on a two-week vacation to the Caribbean. She had convinced her father to take her shopping, even though she didn’t really need anything; she just loved spending time with him.
Unfortunately, her dad had to skip their lunch to handle some urgent matters. So, Danielle wandered around until she found a famous fast food restaurant. She ordered a burger, fries, a large soda, and an apple pie.
After getting her food, she walked back to her dad’s building, which had a nice lawn with trees, benches, and fountains. She sat down to eat while texting her friends on her phone.
When she finished, she wiped her mouth, crumpled the napkin, and put on her lipstick. Then she got up and walked away, leaving the trash on the bench.
A voice suddenly stopped her. “Excuse me, miss!” it said. “Please pick up your trash and throw it in the bin.”
Danie turned around and saw a thin old man in a janitor’s uniform who was sweeping the path. “Excuse me?” she asked. “Are you talking to ME?”
“Yes, young lady,” he replied. “This park is for everyone who works here, and it’s not fair to leave trash behind.”
“I don’t clean up!” Danie said proudly. “People clean up for me. People like you—the servant class. Isn’t that your job? So just do it!”
The elderly man turned red. “Young lady,” he said. “My job is to keep this building and garden clean, but what you did is rude…”
Danie interrupted him. “You work for my father, so you work for me! If I tell you to clean up, you clean up. If I tell you to lick my shoes, you do that too, or I’ll get you fired!”
Just then, Danie heard a loud voice: “DANIELLE!” She turned to see her father looking very angry. “Who do you think you are?” Jack Grobber asked. “How dare you treat this man poorly? He has worked for me for over 20 years, and he has a family!”
“Daddy?” Danie said in her sweetest voice. “Please don’t be mad! I’m so sorry!” But her father saw a hint of mockery in her smile. Danie thought she would get away with it, just like always.
“Apologize to Mr. Terence, Danielle,” Jack ordered. He watched as she turned to the janitor, trying to act charming, but he knew it was fake.
Jack thought, “It’s my fault. I have to fix this!” But how could he change a lifetime of being spoiled and teach her about respect and responsibility?
Then he had a great idea. “Mr. Terence, you look tired!” he said. “I think you need a vacation!”
Mr. Terence smiled and shook his head. “My wife says the same, Mr. Grobber, but I’m saving my vacation days for Christmas with the grandkids!”
“That’s okay, Mr. Terence,” Jack said. “I’m giving you two weeks off and an all-expenses-paid trip to the Bahamas for you and your wife!”
Mr. Terence was shocked. “Sir? The Bahamas? But who will do my job?”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Terence,” Jack said with a smile. “My daughter Danielle will be happy to do your job while you’re away to make up for how she treated you.”
“WHAT?” screamed Danie. “Are you crazy, Dad? I’m going on vacation!”
“Not anymore,” Jack said. “Mr. and Mrs. Terence will go instead, and you will take his place while he is away.”
“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!” Danie yelled. “I’m not a janitor! Cleaning toilets? Sweeping? Picking up trash? I won’t do it!”
“Yes, you will,” her father said coldly. “If you don’t, I’ll cut off your allowance and take away your convertible…”
“It’s MY car!” Danie cried.
“No, Danielle,” Jack said softly. “It’s MY car. I pay for it all. Everything you have is because of me. It’s time you learn how hard people work for every dollar.”
Danie knew her father well, and she could see in his eyes that she had crossed a line. He would not change his mind!
“You start on Monday,” Jack told her. Then he turned to Mr. Terence. “You should go home and pack! Enjoy your trip!”
On Monday morning, Danie showed up in her uniform, ready to clean and sweep. By the end of the day, she was exhausted, her pretty nails were ruined, and her soft hands were sore.
When Mr. Terence returned from the Bahamas with a nice tan, he told Mr. Grobber that Danielle had done a great job keeping everything clean—no trash in the garden!
From then on, Danie never disrespected anyone who worked hard because she understood how tough that job really was!
My Sister Asked Me to Babysit Her Daughter, but Hours before She Returned, I Realized the Child Was Missing – Story of the Day
Every man reaches a moment when he wants to settle down and have a loving family. But not Henry—he was convinced he would stay single forever, believing it was the better life for him. However, a day with his nine-year-old niece makes him realize the true reason behind his choices.
The morning light filtered through unfamiliar curtains, and I woke up to the sensation of something warm and wet on my face.
It was a dog—not mine—a small, fluffy creature with wide, eager eyes that seemed to say, You’re mine now.
It licked my cheek persistently, wagging its tail with determination. Did it want food? A walk? Who knew?
As I rubbed my eyes, the events of the previous night slowly returned. I turned my head and saw her—a girl I’d met at the club.
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She was asleep, her hair sprawled across the pillow.
This wasn’t my place. If I was here, that meant I’d accomplished what I’d set out for.
And now it was time to do what I always did: gather my things and make a quiet exit.
I slipped out of bed carefully, scanning the room. There were my pants, crumpled on the floor. My shirt hung awkwardly off a chair.
One sock sat beside my shoe, but the other… where was it? My search led me to the dog’s mat.
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There it was, claimed by the little fluffball now wagging its tail with pride.
I crouched down, whispering,
“Hey, buddy, that’s mine.” I reached for the sock, but the dog grabbed it with its teeth, growling playfully.
Just as we began our tug-of-war, a groggy voice broke the silence.“Henry? Are you up already?”
I froze. She was awake. Turning, I saw her smiling at me with sleepy eyes.
“Uh, yeah,” I stammered, “I’ve got work. Running late for a meeting.”She frowned.
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“But it’s Saturday…”
“I work weekends sometimes. Important stuff, you know.”
Her smile faded, replaced by a curious tilt of her head.
“So… will I see you again?”
“Of course,” I lied smoothly. “I’ll call you.”Her brow furrowed.
“You’ll call me? Did I even give you my number?”
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Uh-oh. Panic swirled in my chest.
“I thought you did. Didn’t you?”
“And how did you save my name?” she pressed.
Caught, I stammered, “By your name, obviously.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“And what’s my name?”
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I swallowed hard. Two options: admit the truth or …
“Nancy?” I guessed weakly.
Her face darkened instantly.
“Get out of here! I knew it! You’re just like the rest—ugh!”
Slippers flew in my direction as I grabbed my jacket and shoes, dodging her fury all the way out the door.
Sitting in my car, I leaned back and sighed. The rearview mirror reflected a face that looked satisfied, smug even.
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This was my life: no strings, no responsibilities, just freedom. Who needed the hassle of a family? Not me.
While others tied themselves down, I lived for the thrill—parties, work, and the kind of independence most people only dreamed about.
A loud ringtone interrupted my thoughts. I glanced at the screen and blinked. Riley? My sister hardly ever called. I hesitated before answering.
“Hello, Riley?”
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“Henry,” she said, her voice tight, “I need to talk to you. Got a minute?”
I frowned. “Sure. What’s going on?”
“Come over as soon as you can. I can’t explain over the phone. When can you get here?”
“Fifteen minutes. Is everything okay?”
“Just come. I’ll explain.”
I stared at the phone for a moment, then started the car. Whatever this was, it had to be serious.
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Twenty minutes later, I pulled into her driveway and barely made it to the door before it swung open.
Riley stood there, arms crossed, her expression a mix of annoyance and urgency.
“You’re late!”
“By five minutes,” I retorted, stepping inside.
“Relax, Riley. You don’t have to be such a pain in the…”
“Don’t swear,” she hissed. “My daughter’s nearby.”
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I followed her gaze and saw Mira, her nine-year-old, curled up on the couch with an encyclopedia.
Her tiny face was scrunched up in concentration, her finger tracing the lines of text like a mini scholar.
“As expected, you’re my last option,” Riley said with a sigh. “I need you to watch Mira today.”
“Me? Are you serious?” I asked, glancing nervously at Mira, who hadn’t looked up from her book.
“I wouldn’t ask if I had another choice,” she said, exasperated.
“I have a business dinner tonight. Either I go and close this deal, or I cancel because I can’t leave her alone. Can you help me or not?”
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“Fine,” I muttered. “If it’s that important.”
“Great. Food’s in the kitchen. I left money in case you need to order something, but keep it healthy. No greasy junk. And she’s not allowed outside. Got it?”
“Got it.”
With a quick goodbye, Riley was out the door, leaving me and Mira alone. I looked at her. She looked at me.
Neither of us said a word. Let the longest day of my life begin.
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The day dragged on like an endless loop of boredom.
Mira sat on the couch, clutching her encyclopedia, and occasionally glanced at me with a look that made me feel like a failing science experiment.
Her small face was calm, but her raised eyebrows screamed judgment.
I cleared my throat.
“So, uh, you like reading?” I asked, trying to break the awkward silence.
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“Yes, I do. Mom says books are knowledge, and I want to know a lot,” she said, her voice cool and sharp, like a character straight out of a movie about child prodigies.
I nodded. “Cool, cool… What’s your favorite subject in school?”
Mira sighed, looking at me as if I’d just asked the world’s most boring question.
“That’s such an unoriginal question, but I’ll answer anyway. I like biology because it has lots of animals, and I love learning about them.”
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“Cool,” I mumbled, unsure what else to say. Conversations with kids were harder than I thought.
After a moment, she closed her book and tilted her head. “So, are you my uncle?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “You probably don’t remember me, though. We met when you were little.”
“Got it,” she said simply. Then she hit me with a curveball. “Are you married?”
“Uh, no. I’m not married.”
“Why not?” she asked, her curious tone sounding more like an interrogation.
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“I don’t want to get married. I like being on my own,” I said, hoping that would end the conversation.
“No one likes being alone,” she replied, crossing her arms.
“I do,” I insisted, though her words stung more than I cared to admit.
“Maybe you’re scared,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Scared? What would I be scared of?”
“Mom says marriage is a lot of work. She also says you don’t like working. So maybe you’re scared of hard work.”
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I sat up straight.
“She told you that!? Well, just so you know, I’m not scared! Maybe it’s just… not for me. For now.”
“Got it. You’re scared,” Mira concluded, her lips curling into a tiny smirk. “Anyway, I’m hungry.”
“Then eat something,” I said, gesturing toward the kitchen.
“Mom said you’re taking care of me. So take care of me,” she shot back.
“Fine,” I muttered, opening the fridge. It was full of salads, juices, and not a single thing I wanted to eat. I sighed and pulled out my phone.
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“Pizza it is,” I declared.
Minutes later, we were sitting on the couch, devouring slices while watching TV. Mira was quiet for once, her face lit up by the screen.
Before I knew it, my head rested against the back of the couch, and the exhaustion of the day caught up with me. I didn’t even notice when I drifted off to sleep.
I woke up with a jolt, blinking against the light streaming into the room. Something felt off. The house was too quiet. I glanced around, and that’s when it hit me—Mira was nowhere to be seen.
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“Mira!” I called out, my voice echoing through the house. “Mira, where are you?”
No answer.
Panic surged through me. I started tearing through the house, opening doors, peeking under beds, and even checking the closets and cupboards.
Every empty space mocked me. My heart raced faster with each passing second.
I had one job. One simple job. Watch Mira for a day, and I couldn’t even manage that.
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I pulled out my phone, desperate for a clue, and saw a text from Riley:
“On my way home. I’ll be there in an hour. Everything okay?”
I froze for a moment, then typed back: “All good!” It was a lie, but I needed time to fix this.
Running downstairs, I scanned the living room again and noticed something I’d missed earlier: the window.
It was open, and a faint breeze fluttered the curtains. Mira had gone outside.
I crawled through the window and spotted a small shoe lying by the neighbor’s fence. My breath caught.
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Climbing over, I found myself in their backyard, where a tall tree stood with a sturdy wooden treehouse perched near the top.
“Mira!” I yelled, looking up.
“I’m here,” her calm voice replied from above.
I climbed the rickety ladder, my pulse still hammering. At the top, I found Mira sitting cross-legged with another boy.
They were playing with toy figures, completely unbothered.
“Mira! You scared me!” I said, still catching my breath. “Why did you run off like that?”
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“I got bored,” she said, shrugging. “And Sam was here. Sam, say hi to my uncle.”
“Hi, Mira’s uncle,” Sam said, not looking up.
“But your mom said you weren’t allowed outside!”
“She said you were supposed to make sure I didn’t go out,” Mira pointed out, her tone matter-of-fact. “But you were sleeping. Now I know what you’re scared of.”
“Of course I was scared!” I snapped, then softened. “Sorry. But why doesn’t your mom let you play with other kids?”
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“She says I’ll pick up bad habits,” Mira said.
“But I like playing with Sam.”
“There’s nothing wrong with playing with other kids,” I said gently.
“Your mom’s just… protective.”
“And you’re not protective enough,” she quipped with a smirk.
I sighed. “You’re right. From now on, I’ll be more careful.”
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In half an hour, the door creaked open, and Riley stepped into the house, her keys jingling as she set them on the counter. “Mira!? Henry!? Where are you two!?” she called out, her voice bouncing off the walls.
No answer.
The house was dark and eerily silent, with no sign of life. The faint glow of the streetlights seeped through the curtains, casting long shadows that made the empty space feel even more unsettling.
Riley’s heart raced as she scanned the room. “Where are they?” she muttered under her breath, her hands trembling slightly. Her eyes darted to an open window, the curtain flapping lazily in the breeze.
“Oh my god! I knew I shouldn’t have trusted my idiot brother!” she mumbled, panic setting in. She rushed toward the window, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios.
Suddenly—
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“Surprise!!” Mira and I popped up from outside, shouting in unison.
Riley jumped back, clutching her chest. “God! I thought you were both gone! What’s wrong with you two!?”
We burst out laughing, and Mira nearly doubled over with glee. Riley’s face softened as she watched her daughter giggling, her playful spirit infectious.
“Sorry, sis. You were asking for it,” I teased, grinning. “Don’t worry so much. Nothing could go wrong, you’ve got to trust Mira a lot more.”
“Yeah, Mom!” Mira chimed in, beaming.
Riley sighed, a reluctant smile creeping onto her face. “You two are impossible,” she said, pulling Mira into a hug. “But I guess I’ll let it slide this time.”
As I left, I realized something: sometimes, kids teach you things about yourself you didn’t even know you needed to learn.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Laura believed that her writing could change the world. But reality turned out differently, and her boss pushed her to dig up dirt on famous people. Desperate to save her job, she disguises herself as a cleaner compromising a millionaire. However, she uncovers a life-changing truth in the process.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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