My Daughter-in-Law Kept the Money I Sent My Grandson Each Month, I Gave Her a Memorable Lesson

Mary discovers that her grandson Timmy hasn’t received the $300 she sends each month through her daughter-in-law, Susan. Feeling suspicious, Mary decides to investigate the situation.

Mary had been sending money to Timmy to help him learn about financial responsibility, believing Susan would pass it on to him. However, when Timmy called asking for money for a toy, Mary became concerned. Timmy mentioned he hadn’t received any pocket money from Susan, despite asking multiple times. This revelation left Mary feeling that something was wrong.

Determined to get to the bottom of the issue, Mary devised a plan. She invited Susan for a friendly outing, suggesting they go to an antique store owned by an old friend, Helen. Unbeknownst to Susan, Mary had informed Helen about her suspicions, and they agreed to work together.

While browsing, Susan expressed interest in a beautiful necklace that was too expensive for her budget. Seizing the opportunity, Mary mentioned wanting to send Timmy more money to buy a toy. Susan’s excitement was evident as she eagerly agreed, revealing her intentions to use the money for herself.

That evening, Mary prepared an envelope with fake money, using realistic-looking bills from a board game. She sent it to Timmy with a note, knowing Susan would likely try to use it. Helen called Mary when Susan arrived at the store and attempted to buy the necklace with the counterfeit bills.

When Helen confronted Susan about the fake money, panic ensued. Mary stepped in, revealing the truth about the money and expressing her disappointment in Susan. As Susan begged for mercy, Mary stood firm, insisting that her daughter-in-law had crossed a line.

After a tense moment, Helen decided not to call the police but warned Susan of the seriousness of her actions. Mary then declared she would manage Timmy’s money directly from now on, requiring Susan to earn back her trust. In the end, Mary succeeded in teaching Susan a lesson about honesty and responsibility.

My Husband Refuses to Help with Our Crying Baby at Night, Puts on Headphones & Listens to Calming Music – I Taught Him a Lesson

Scarlett is at her wit’s end, balancing a demanding career and a teething baby while her husband, Dave, sleeps peacefully with noise-canceling headphones. When he dismisses her pleas for help, Scarlett hatches a cunning plan to make him experience her sleepless nights.

I need to vent about something.

My name’s Scarlett, and I’ve been married to Dave for 25 years. We’ve got three kids: a 12-year-old soccer fanatic, an 8-year-old aspiring astronaut, and our newest addition, Lily, who’s six months old.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my kids to bits, but balancing a demanding career and raising these little humans is no joke.

Dave and I used to be this power couple. But lately, he’s been avoiding his share of nighttime baby duty.

Picture this: I’m pacing the room with a screaming, teething baby at 2 a.m., while he’s blissfully asleep, noise-canceling headphones on, listening to some darn calming ocean waves or whatever. It’s infuriating!

So, here’s the setup. It was one of those nights. Lily was teething and inconsolable. I’d tried everything—rocking, feeding, singing lullabies. Nothing worked. Exhausted and at my wits’ end, I shook Dave awake.

“Dave, I need help. Lily’s been crying for hours,” I pleaded, my voice barely masking my frustration.

He groaned and pulled off his headphones. “Scarlett, I have to be up early. My job is demanding. Can’t you handle it?”

“Seriously, Dave?” I snapped, feeling the hot sting of tears in my eyes. “I’ve been handling it all night. I need some support here.”

He rolled his eyes and turned away. “I need my sleep. I can’t function at work if I’m exhausted.”

That was it. The tipping point. His words stung more than they should have. I felt like I was drowning, and he was just floating by, oblivious. Something had to change. I couldn’t keep feeling this undervalued and alone.

That’s when I hatched my plan.

I’m not proud of it, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I decided to modify his precious headphones, planting a hidden speaker controlled by my phone. Yeah, it was sneaky, but I was desperate for him to understand my struggle.

I activated the speaker. The sound of a baby crying filled his headphones. He shot up, confused and irritated.

“Scarlett, did you hear that?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Hear what?” I replied, feigning ignorance.

He shook his head and stumbled over to Lily’s crib.

“Dave, I think you’re just stressed,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “Maybe you should help with Lily more often. It might help you sleep better.”

He stared at me, and I could see the wheels turning in his head.

“Yeah, maybe,” he muttered, but the doubt was there.

By the end of the week, Dave was a wreck.

He was snapping at the kids, his patience worn thin.

“Scarlett, I don’t know what’s going on, but I can’t take this anymore. I’m hearing things, and I’m exhausted.”

I bit my lip, feeling a mix of guilt and satisfaction.

“Dave, we need to talk,” I said, my voice steady but filled with the weight of the past few nights.

He looked at me, his eyes bloodshot and weary. “What is it? Just tell me.”

One peaceful night, after a particularly calm evening with Lily finally asleep, we crawled into bed, both of us utterly exhausted. Dave pulled me close, his arm wrapped around me.

“Scarlett,” he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude, “thank you.”

I smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me. “Thank you, Dave,” I whispered back. “For being my partner.”

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