My Husband Insisted on Homeschooling Our Daughter — I Gasped When I Found Out Why

When Mia’s husband, Ben, suddenly starts talking about homeschooling their six-year-old daughter, Lily, she’s surprised. Months earlier, they had been talking about sending the little girl to private school. So, what changed? Mia finds out when she overhears a conversation between Ben and Lily…

This all started a few months ago at a dinner party. My husband, Ben, and I were sitting with a few friends when, out of the blue, he brought up the idea of homeschooling our daughter, Lily.

An aerial view of people at a dinner party | Source: Midjourney

An aerial view of people at a dinner party | Source: Midjourney

“It’s the system, you know? It’s too rigid, too focused on tests,” Ben said, leaning forward in his seat like he had discovered the secret to the universe.

“Kids need to be free to explore their creativity. I don’t want Lily’s imagination boxed in. She needs to feel things between her fingers and experience life,” he continued.

Ben reached forward to help himself to the bowl of mashed potatoes.

A casserole of mashed potatoes | Source: Midjourney

A casserole of mashed potatoes | Source: Midjourney

Everyone at the table nodded, murmuring in agreement.

“Honestly, that’s so true,” our friend Sarah chimed in as she sipped her wine. “Schools just kill creativity. I wish I had done something different with my kids. Last year, Jasmine wanted to show off her creativity through her uniform, but they didn’t accept it at school. She got a suspension warning.”

I remember glancing at Ben, completely surprised at how passionately he was speaking. He had never once mentioned anything about homeschooling before. In fact, he had been talking about us getting our six-year-old into private school.

A little girl in her school uniform | Source: Midjourney

A little girl in her school uniform | Source: Midjourney

But here he was, talking about homeschooling like he’d been thinking about it for years.

“We could teach her ourselves, Mia,” Ben continued, glancing over at me with a smile. “Think about it, love. No strict schedules, no standardized tests. She could learn at her own pace.”

I nodded, trying to process everything.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah, I mean, it does sound good,” I agreed. “But we need to explore all options about it first.”

I was hesitant. But I was also unsure of why I felt a slight unease creep up on me. Although when Ben spoke so passionately, it was hard not to get swept up in the dream of it all.

After that night, Ben kept bringing it up. At home, over dinner, in passing conversations, he’d make little comments all the time.

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

“Lily would be so much happier if she wasn’t stuck in a classroom all day.”

“We could help her learn things that matter, Mia, not just what’s on some test.”

Eventually, I started to believe that he might be right.

Before I knew it, we had decided to pull Lily out of her school and start with the new routine of homeschooling. Ben took charge of everything.

A little girl using a computer | Source: Midjourney

A little girl using a computer | Source: Midjourney

“Like the gifts we talked about? You’ll deliver them, right?”

He had always been more involved with her school meetings, so I trusted him completely. And look, at first, everything seemed to be working. Ben would sit with Lily during “school hours,” and he’d proudly show me the projects they’d worked on when I got home from work.

“I’m glad she’s happy,” I told Ben one evening when I was loading the dishwasher.

A woman loading a dishwasher | Source: Midjourney

A woman loading a dishwasher | Source: Midjourney

“She’s more than happy, Mia,” he said with a smile. “She’s thriving. Look at this! She made a solar system model all on her own.”

But then one day, I came home early from work, eager to show Lily the new set of watercolor paint I had gotten for her. I walked in quietly, not wanting to disturb whatever lesson she and Ben were doing.

And that’s when I heard Lily crying.

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

“But Dad, I miss my friends!” Lily sobbed. “They probably think I don’t like them anymore. I’m sure they think we’re fighting! They’ll be so mad at me for not going to school…”

I crept closer to the dining room, which had become the classroom. And I heard Ben’s voice, low and soothing.

“Lily-girl,” he said. “I told you, we can send them little gifts, okay? They won’t be mad at you.”

An upset little man | Source: Midjourney

An upset little man | Source: Midjourney

Lily sniffled, but her tone lifted a little.

“Like the gifts we talked about? You’ll deliver them, right?” she said.

Deliver gifts? What on earth was my child talking about?

“Yes, darling,” he said.

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

“Like when you let me come with you when Mommy had to work? You’re going to deliver my friends’ gifts just like when you bring packages to people, right?”

I froze. I tried to piece the information together before storming in and demanding answers.

Ben wasn’t homeschooling Lily out of some grand educational philosophy that he had been talking about endlessly.

An upset little girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset little girl | Source: Midjourney

Instead, my husband was delivering packages. All those days that I thought they were doing lessons… what had really been happening under my roof?

“Get your answers, Mia,” I muttered as I walked into the dining room.

Ben’s face turned white when he saw me.

A close up of a shocked man | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a shocked man | Source: Midjourney

“Care to explain what on earth Lily is talking about?” I asked.

My chest felt tight, like I was just holding it all together before some horrible news came out.

Ben let out a long breath, running his hands through his hair.

“Honey, why don’t you go play on the swing or watch some TV?” Ben told her.

We waited until Lily was happily running outside to the swing before Ben said another word.

A little girl sitting on a swing | Source: Midjourney

A little girl sitting on a swing | Source: Midjourney

“I… I lost my job, okay? Months ago. I didn’t know how to tell you, Mia.”

I blinked, trying to process his words.

“I didn’t want you to think I was a failure.”

“You lost your job? Then what on earth have you been doing all day?”

“The homeschooling. It wasn’t about Lily’s education. It was because we couldn’t afford the tuition anymore. And I know that a few months ago I wanted her to go to private school, but I couldn’t even afford her public school fees.”

A close up of an upset man | Source: Midjourney

A close up of an upset man | Source: Midjourney

Ben paused, holding his head.

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to retaliate.

“I’ve been delivering packages. It’s not stable, but it’s for a few hours a day. I take Lily with me in between her homeschooling. I know you think that I’ve been working in the study and then teaching Lily, too…”

A man holding two boxes | Source: Midjourney

A man holding two boxes | Source: Midjourney

“You’ve been delivering packages? Really? This whole time?” I asked, stunned. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to think that I was a failure,” Ben said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know how to fix this situation. But you know how stressful my job was toward the end. Those hours killed me. I thought that maybe if I could just keep things together for a little while longer…”

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around everything. I wanted to be angry.

I wanted to shout at my husband, not because he lost his job, but because he didn’t want to tell me about it. I understood the pressure of losing your job suddenly and then having to put yourself back together.

When I was pregnant with Lily, I lost my job because they couldn’t afford to keep paying me while I was on maternity leave.

A pregnant woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A pregnant woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

But Ben carried us right up until Lily was three years old.

I shook my head now, trying to shake some of my thoughts. I felt… sad. Sad that Ben had felt like he had to hide this from me.

“Ben, you didn’t have to do this alone,” I said, reaching toward him.

He smiled at me sadly.

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

We put Lily back into school the next week using our savings. She was overjoyed to see her friends, and the guilt Ben had been carrying around began to lift when he saw her running toward them at the school gate.

As for Ben, he found another job as a grocery store manager. It wasn’t his dream job, but it was honest work that came with medical benefits. And honestly, I think it was just the fact that he was earning properly again that made the biggest difference to him.

A man standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

There was a lightness back in our home that hadn’t been there in a long time. A sense that we were moving forward, together.

What would you have done?

A smiling couple with their daughter | Source: Midjourney

A smiling couple with their daughter | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

Am I Wrong for “Hiding” My MIL’s Birthday Present to My Husband after Finding Out What Was Inside?

Tired of allowing her cold and callous mother-in-law to ruin her husband’s birthday, Lila hides Carol’s birthday present from Bill to save him the hurt and disappointment that usually came with his mother’s gifts. But when Lila’s secret comes out, a series of events unfolds.

I could tell my husband, Bill, was nervous. His birthday was coming up, and every year, his mom’s gift felt like a slap in the face.

Bill sat on our worn-out couch, his shoulders tense.

A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“Do you think she’ll actually care this time?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

I sighed, placing my hand on his. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. I knew that I needed to reassure him, but my husband’s relationship with his mother was complicated.

“Maybe,” I said. “But remember, we’re celebrating your birthday, not hers. We’ll have a great time, no matter what, darling.”

A couple holding hands | Source: Midjourney

A couple holding hands | Source: Midjourney

Bill smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I knew how much he wanted to feel loved and appreciated by Carol, but she always failed to show him that. It wasn’t just about the gifts. It was about the feeling.

Bill had told me the story a long time ago. He was his mother’s son from her first marriage, and their relationship was strong, but things took a turn when Carol met her second husband, Adam.

It became even worse when Bill’s younger brothers were born. Suddenly, Carol only had eyes for Adam and their sons, making it clear to Bill that he was no longer a priority in her life.

A mother and her sons | Source: Midjourney

A mother and her sons | Source: Midjourney

“Okay,” he said. “This year will be different.”

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My MIL Kicked Me Out of Thanksgiving Dinner for Bringing a Store-Bought Pie — Karma Didn’t Let It Slide

Overwhelmed by new motherhood at forty, all Clem could manage for her mother-in-law Brenda’s perfect Thanksgiving dinner was a store-bought pie. Unimpressed, Brenda humiliated her in front of the guests and sent her packing. But when James, Clem’s husband, returned unexpectedly, karma stepped in. What began as a Thanksgiving disaster evolved into a reckoning for Brenda and the surprising start of a stronger family bond.

Motherhood at forty is no joke. People love to romanticize the late-in-life baby glow, but the reality? My glow was mostly sweat from trying to survive on three hours of sleep and caffeine I barely had time to finish.

Between the midnight cries, endless diaper changes, and the mental gymnastics of keeping another human alive, I’d lost all sense of time.

A woman holding a baby | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a baby | Source: Midjourney

I hadn’t felt like myself in weeks. So, when Thanksgiving rolled around, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to tackle my mother-in-law Brenda’s Martha Stewart-level expectations.

Brenda’s Thanksgiving wasn’t just a dinner; it was a performance. She’s the kind of woman who obsesses over place settings, insists on family members contributing elaborate dishes, and still finds time to “graciously” host.

Normally, I’d step up and make something. Pies, casseroles, tarts, cheesecakes, you name it. But this year?

A cheesecake on a stand | Source: Midjourney

A cheesecake on a stand | Source: Midjourney

This year, I grabbed a store-bought pumpkin pie on the way to her house and called it a win.

Look, I knew that it wasn’t going to go down well. But I didn’t really care. After a year of IVF treatments, a pregnancy that was high-risk, and a baby who zapped my energy instantaneously, I was exhausted. Brenda would be fine.

Right?

A pumpkin pie in a box | Source: Midjourney

A pumpkin pie in a box | Source: Midjourney

I arrived balancing the baby strapped to my chest, a diaper bag slung over one shoulder, and the pie in one precarious hand. I felt like a walking circus act. Brenda opened the door, her smile tight, as it usually was when I showed up solo.

But it wasn’t my fault that James had been called onto a last-minute business trip.

Brenda’s eyes roamed me from head to toe. And when they finally landed on the pie, that smile fell faster than my self-esteem on a bad day.

“Clem, what’s this?” she asked, her voice clipped.

A baby strapped to her mom | Source: Midjourney

A baby strapped to her mom | Source: Midjourney

“Pumpkin pie, Brenda,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. “I bought it from the artisanal bakery. I didn’t have time to bake anything…”

She cut me off with a sharp sigh.

“You couldn’t even make a simple dessert, Clem? Everyone else managed, and they all have jobs and children.”

The interior of a bakery | Source: Midjourney

The interior of a bakery | Source: Midjourney

I swallowed hard, trying to explain how hard things had been with James out of town for work. And the fact that everyone else had kids above five years old. Eve, my daughter, was the youngest, at four months old.

“It’s been a little chaotic, Brenda. Between the night feeds and just… surviving, I didn’t have the bandwidth to make anything.”

She raised a hand, silencing me mid-sentence.

An annoyed older woman | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed older woman | Source: Midjourney

“This is just lazy, Clementine,” she declared, loud enough for the entire house to hear. “You’re a mother now. You need to learn how to handle your responsibilities. James deserves so much better. Honestly. This baby deserves so much better.”

I felt my face flush with anger and humiliation. Where was the doting grandmother who ignored everyone else except the new baby? Where was the supportive mother-in-law who wanted to make sure that I was okay and managing?

An upset woman holding a baby | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman holding a baby | Source: Midjourney

The guests around us stopped their casual conversations and went eerily silent. Brenda’s best friend coughed awkwardly, while James’ sister, Sarah, shot me a wide-eyed look as if to say, What is she doing?

But still, no one stepped in. Not even to come and take my baby from me. Instead, I was holding Eve and the pumpkin pie, while the diaper bag lay at my feet.

A baby bag | Source: Midjourney

A baby bag | Source: Midjourney

Then Brenda delivered her final blow.

“Maybe you should go home and think about your priorities, Clem. And there’s really no point to you being here. James isn’t here anyway.”

She was kicking me out. Over a pie. What was wrong with this woman?

The baby, as if on cue, let out a sharp cry. My hands shook as I tried to adjust the straps on the carrier, fumbling to grab my things. Eve was hungry. I told myself that I didn’t need this.

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t need Brenda’s approval. But tears blurred my vision as I headed for the door, cradling my baby and piecing together what shred of dignity I had left.

Before I could leave, the door swung open.

Standing there was James, suitcase in hand, and his dad, Frank, carrying a bag of last-minute groceries that Brenda must have needed.

An open front door | Source: Midjourney

An open front door | Source: Midjourney

Apparently, my husband had cut his trip short to surprise me for Thanksgiving, and Frank had gone to pick him up.

“I couldn’t miss Thanksgiving with my two favorite girls,” James said, setting his suitcase and the diaper bag to the side. “Especially with it being Eve’s first Thanksgiving.”

I sighed, which forced James to look at me. Like, truly look at me.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

“What’s going on?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked from my tear-streaked face to Brenda’s defiant posture.

Brenda straightened, clearly caught off guard.

“Your wife brought a store-bought pie,” she started, her voice tinged with indignation. “It’s disrespectful.”

Frank let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

A man standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

“Disrespectful? Brenda, half the dishes on this table were ordered because you didn’t know how to cook vegetarian dishes for Sarah.”

He gestured toward Sarah, who had suddenly become very interested in her wine glass.

Brenda’s face turned bright red.

Vegetarian meals on a counter | Source: Midjourney

Vegetarian meals on a counter | Source: Midjourney

“That’s… different,” she stammered.

“No, it’s not,” James said, stepping closer to me. “Mom, you kicked my wife out over a pie? She’s been handling everything on her own while I’ve been gone, and this is how you treat her? Unbelievable. Disappointing. Have you even held Eve since Clem brought her over?”

The baby let out another small whimper as if punctuating James’ words. Brenda opened her mouth, but for once, no words came out.

Finally, she muttered something.

A woman holding a crying baby | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a crying baby | Source: Midjourney

“I didn’t hear that,” James said.

“I said I’m sorry,” she snapped.

Then she turned to me, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Please stay, Clem,” she said.

I glanced at James, who gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

A woman cuddling her baby | Source: Midjourney

A woman cuddling her baby | Source: Midjourney

“Let me just feed Eve upstairs and I’ll leave,” I said.

“Honey, stay,” he whispered. “For me, please.”

His eyes softened as he bent to kiss Eve’s head.

So I stayed.

A couple holding their baby | Source: Midjourney

A couple holding their baby | Source: Midjourney

The rest of the dinner was painfully awkward. Brenda avoided me, sticking to the far side of the table like I might infect her with store-bought shame. Sarah quietly refilled my glass of grape juice when she thought no one was looking, and Frank made a point of chatting with me about anything other than pies.

James continued to pile my plate with turkey and roast potatoes, and a cheesy broccoli casserole that I loved, too.

Finally, I felt seen.

A glass of juice on a table | Source: Midjourney

A glass of juice on a table | Source: Midjourney

After everyone left, Brenda found me in the kitchen. Eve was asleep and James and I didn’t want to wake her up, so, I was clearing out the kitchen. Brenda’s demeanor was softer now, almost hesitant as she walked in.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. It wasn’t fair,” she glanced down, fidgeting with the hem of her apron. “I’ve just been stressed out about hosting, and I took it out on you. That was wrong.”

A woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

The apology surprised me.

I wanted to lash out, to tell her how humiliating everything had been. But something about her expression stopped me. She wasn’t just embarrassed; she looked genuinely remorseful.

“And especially after everything you’ve been through to get Eve, I should have known better. You’ve made James so happy, Clem. First by being his wife, and then giving him a baby.”

I nodded, accepting her apology more for James’ sake than my own. I didn’t expect much to change.

An older woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

An older woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A few days later, Frank showed up at my house unannounced. He said he wanted to check in on the baby, and me. I appreciated the gesture, especially when he started coming by regularly to help out.

A week after that, Brenda tagged along.

She was holding two cups of takeaway coffee, a bag of cookies, and a box of donuts. She looked nervous, but determined to make things right.

A box of donuts | Source: Midjourney

A box of donuts | Source: Midjourney

“I thought you might need a break,” she said, stepping inside. “Here’s some treats, and point me to Eve. It’s grandma duty now.”

We sat in the living room, Brenda holding Eve, and we chatted like old friends.

It was surreal.

Brenda wasn’t just apologizing anymore. She was trying to make amends. Frank even winked at me as if to say, I told her to do this.

A woman holding a baby girl | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a baby girl | Source: Midjourney

Since then, Brenda has shown up almost weekly, sometimes with coffee, sometimes with groceries. She’s offered to babysit so James and I could have a date night and even texted me a recipe for homemade pie.

We can bake one together next time.

Karma didn’t just humble her; it changed our relationship for the better. And now, whenever I see a store-bought pie, I can’t help but smile.

Pies on a counter | Source: Midjourney

Pies on a counter | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

My Mother-in-Law Claims I Ruined Thanksgiving Dinner

When Scarlet arrives at her first Thanksgiving dinner as Shaun’s wife, she finds herself looking at a dinner table with no empty seats for her. Instead, she sees a smirking mother-in-law and her husband’s ex-girlfriend sitting next to Shaun, giggling away at his jokes… What will Scarlet do?

Thanksgiving was supposed to be one of those easy family get-togethers, where I could just relax, catch up with everyone, and enjoy some delicious food.

At least, that was what I’d hoped for.

A Thanksgiving dinner spread on a table | Source: Midjourney

A Thanksgiving dinner spread on a table | Source: Midjourney

But things get tricky when your mother-in-law is involved, especially one who still insists on inviting your husband’s ex-girlfriend to every single holiday meal. I’d had a few years of dealing with Angela’s snarky, passive-aggressive remarks, but this year, she really outdid herself.

I’ll never forget how that dinner crashed and burned on Thanksgiving, and somehow, I’m the one who got blamed for it all.

Shaun, my husband, had gone to Angela’s place a bit earlier that day. He wanted to help her set up while I made the pies.

A woman making a pie crust | Source: Midjourney

A woman making a pie crust | Source: Midjourney

“I’ll go ahead and you take your time and make the pumpkin pie, honey,” he said. “And make the pecan pie extra sweet.”

He gave me a kiss on the head and bolted out the door. I wasn’t worried that he left early because Shaun was a menace when I was in the kitchen, always wanting my attention, causing a few burnt meals in the past.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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