My MIL Asked to Have Our Kids for a Week over the Holidays – When I Went to Pick Them Up, My Heart Shattered

When my mother-in-law insisted on hosting my kids for a holiday break, I thought it was harmless—grandma bonding time and a little breather for me. What I didn’t expect was the gut-wrenching discovery that would change everything about how I saw her.

I’m Abby, 34, and I’ve been married to my husband, Brad, for seven years. We have two kids: Lucas, 8, and Sophie, 6. My mother-in-law, Jean, is in her late 60s. We’ve always had what I’d call a cordial relationship—polite smiles, small talk, the occasional dinner invite.

Woman and her mother in law preparing dinner | Source: Midjourney

Woman and her mother in law preparing dinner | Source: Midjourney

But Jean has always been… intense. There’s this energy about her, you know? Like she’s trying to prove she’s the perfect grandmother, but she can be controlling.

“She’s just old-fashioned,” Brad would say with a shrug whenever I mentioned it. “She means well.”

I tried to believe that. For years, I brushed off the little things. Her insistence on calling Lucas her boy or the time she scolded Sophie for eating with her hands, saying, “Not under my roof, young lady!”

Senior woman having dinner with her grandchild | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman having dinner with her grandchild | Source: Midjourney

But when Jean called me last month, her voice cheerful, and asked, “Abby, how would you feel about me taking Lucas and Sophie for a whole week during their holiday break?” my stomach did a tiny flip.

“A week?” I repeated, caught off guard.

“Yes! I’d love to have them all to myself—just spoil them rotten. You and Brad could use the time, couldn’t you? A little break?”

I glanced at Brad, who gave me a thumbs up. “They’ll have fun,” he added.

“Okay,” I agreed hesitantly.

Woman on phone | Source: Midjourney

Woman on phone | Source: Midjourney

She practically squealed with excitement. “Oh, don’t you worry about a thing, dear. They’ll be in good hands.”

Before sending them off, I gave Jean $1,000 for their expenses.

“Jean,” I said as I handed her the envelope, “this is just to make sure you don’t have to dip into your savings for food or anything they might need this week.”

She looked surprised at first but then beamed. “Oh, Abby, that’s so thoughtful of you! Don’t worry, I’ll put it to good use. These kids are going to have the best week ever.”

Woman handing an envelope to her mother in law | Source: Midjourney

Woman handing an envelope to her mother in law | Source: Midjourney

The week crawled by, slower than I expected. I thought I’d enjoy the quiet, but I found myself reaching for my phone to call Lucas and Sophie more often than I should have.

When the day finally came to pick them up, I was practically vibrating with excitement. I couldn’t wait to see their little faces and hear about their week. But as I pulled up to Jean’s house, I felt uneasy.

The house looked the same as always, but something felt… wrong. Maybe it was just me being silly. Or maybe it was the way Jean opened the door.

“Abby! You’re here!” she greeted me with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Senior woman opening her door | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman opening her door | Source: Midjourney

“Hi, Jean! How were they?” I asked, stepping inside.

“Oh, wonderful,” she replied, her voice shaky. But something about her demeanor felt… off. She was too cheerful, too composed like she was holding onto a script.

I glanced around the house, expecting to hear the usual chaos of toys clattering or kids yelling. But the house was silent. Dead silent.

“Where are the kids?” I asked again, glancing around the empty living room. Normally, by now, they’d be running to me with hugs and excited stories.

Anxious woman in a large living room | Source: Midjourney

Anxious woman in a large living room | Source: Midjourney

Jean’s smile didn’t waver, but something was unsettling about the way she clasped her hands together. “Oh, they’re inside,” she said breezily, gesturing toward the house. “They’ve been so busy today—lots of work.”

I frowned. “Work? What kind of work?”

Jean chuckled nervously and waved her hand like I was being silly. “Oh, just little things. Helping out their grandma. You know how kids are, always eager to lend a hand!”

Senior woman smirking | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman smirking | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t know what she meant by “work,” but her tone was off—too sweet, too dismissive. My motherly instincts kicked in, and I felt uneasy.

“Where exactly are they, Jean” I asked, my voice firm now.

Her eyes darted toward the hallway, then back at me. “In the backyard,” she said finally. “They’ve been helping me with the garden. They’re such little troopers!”

I didn’t wait for more excuses. I followed the faint sounds of voices to the sliding glass door. As I stepped outside, the cool air hit me, but it did nothing to stop the wave of dread washing over me.

Anxious woman in the backyard. | Source: Midjourney

Anxious woman in the backyard. | Source: Midjourney

“Lucas? Sophie?” I called out.

Then I saw them. My heart sank.

Lucas and Sophie stood there, their small faces smeared with dirt, their eyes filled with exhaustion and relief as they clung to me. Lucas’ clothes were worn and covered in stains, and Sophie’s shirt had a tear on the shoulder. Neither outfit looked familiar—certainly not what I had packed for them.

Boy and girl digging in the garden | Source: Midjourney

Boy and girl digging in the garden | Source: Midjourney

“Mom!” Lucas gasped, throwing his arms around me. Sophie followed, her tiny frame trembling as she buried her face into my side.

“What is going on here?” I demanded, turning to Jean, my voice shaking with anger. “Why are they out here like this? They were supposed to be having fun, not working!”

Lucas looked up at me, his voice quivering. “Grandma said we had to help. She told us if we worked hard, we’d go to the park… but we never went, Mom.”

Sophie added, “She made us dig all day, Mommy. I wanted to stop, but she said we had to finish first.”

Exhausted little girl standing in the garden | Source: Midjourney

Exhausted little girl standing in the garden | Source: Midjourney

I turned to Jean, who was now standing a few feet away, her arms crossed defensively.

“Jean!” I shouted, my voice breaking. “You promised me you’d spoil them this week, not turn them into laborers! What is this?!”

Jean’s face flushed, and she shifted awkwardly on her feet. “Oh, don’t exaggerate, Abby,” she said, her tone dismissive. “They were eager to help. And why not? A little hard work never hurt anyone. They’ve learned valuable lessons about responsibility and discipline.”

Senior woman arguing with her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman arguing with her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

“Responsibility? Discipline?” My voice rose, trembling with rage. “They’re children, Jean! They’re supposed to be playing, laughing, being kids—not breaking their backs in your garden! How could you think this was okay?”

Jean threw up her hands, her voice defensive now. “They need to learn that life isn’t all fun and games! You’re raising them to be spoiled, Abby. I was just trying to help!”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm of emotions swirling inside me. I couldn’t let my anger consume me, not in front of the kids. But I needed answers.

Disappointed woman | Source: Midjourney

Disappointed woman | Source: Midjourney

“Jean,” I said, my voice low and controlled, “where’s the $1,000 I gave you for groceries and activities?”

She hesitated, her gaze darting toward the ground. “Oh, I didn’t need to use it for groceries,” she said, forcing a casual shrug. “The kids didn’t need all that food. And I thought… I thought I could use the money for… other things.”

My stomach churned. “Other things? What do you mean by that?”

Jean’s face turned red as she mumbled, “I… I didn’t use the money for the kids. I’ve been struggling with my bills, and I thought if I could get some help with the house and the garden, I could save some money.”

Senior woman arguing with her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman arguing with her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. The betrayal hit me like a punch to the gut. “So, you used my children as free labor?” I said, my voice trembling.

She flinched but didn’t deny it. “It wasn’t like that, Abby,” she insisted, her voice defensive. “I thought it would be good for them—teach them hard work.”

“Hard work?” I repeated, my voice rising. “They’re kids, Jean! I gave you that money so you could give them a week of fun and memories. Not… this.” I gestured toward the backyard, where Lucas and Sophie sat on the porch, their small faces pale and weary.

Tired boy and girl sitting on the porch | Source: Midjourney

Tired boy and girl sitting on the porch | Source: Midjourney

It hit me then—this wasn’t just about the garden. Jean had always tried to exert control, to show she knew best, and now she’d dragged my kids into her twisted sense of right and wrong.

I knelt in front of Lucas and Sophie, pulling them into my arms. “I’m so sorry, babies,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “This isn’t what I wanted for you.”

I stood, turning back to Jean, whose head hung low in shame. “Jean,” I said, my voice steady but sharp, “we’re leaving. My kids deserve to be kids—not workers in your garden.”

Guilty senior woman talking to her daughter in law | Source: Midjourney

Guilty senior woman talking to her daughter in law | Source: Midjourney

Her lips trembled as she stammered, “I… I thought I was doing the right thing.”

I shook my head. “No, Jean. You didn’t.”

Without another word, I picked up Sophie, took Lucas by the hand, and led them into the house to gather their things. We were done here.

As we stepped outside, the crisp evening air hit my face, a stark contrast to the suffocating tension inside Jean’s house.

Woman walking away from her mother-in-law's house | Source: Midjourney

Woman walking away from her mother-in-law’s house | Source: Midjourney

Lucas clung tightly to my hand, and Sophie nestled into my arms, her head resting on my shoulder. Their silence was heavier than words, their little bodies weighed down by exhaustion.

“Please, Abby,” Jean called after us, her voice cracking. “Don’t be angry. They’ve learned so much. It was just… it was just a mistake.”

I stopped and slowly, I turned to face her. She stood in the doorway, her expression a mix of desperation and guilt. For a moment, I considered responding, but what could I say that would change anything? The damage was already done.

Guilty senior woman standing in her doorway | Source: Midjourney

Guilty senior woman standing in her doorway | Source: Midjourney

“No, Jean,” I said finally, my voice firm but calm. “This wasn’t a mistake. This was a choice—a choice you made without thinking about what they needed. They’re children, not tools to fix your problems or lessons to prove your point.”

Jean opened her mouth to reply, but I shook my head, cutting her off. “I trusted you. And you broke that trust—not just with me, but with them. I won’t let this happen again.”

She looked down, her face crumpling, but I had no room for her regret at that moment. My kids needed me.

Woman walking away with her children | Source: Midjourney

Woman walking away with her children | Source: Midjourney

As I walked to the car, Lucas finally broke the silence. “Mom?”

I looked down at him, my heart aching at the uncertainty in his voice. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Are we ever coming back here?” he asked softly.

I tightened my grip on his hand and said, “No, buddy. Not until Grandma learns how to treat you the way you deserve.”

Sophie stirred in my arms, whispering, “Good.”

And with that, I buckled them into the car and drove away, leaving behind the house, the garden, and a part of my trust I’d never get back.

Children inside a car | Source: Midjourney

Children inside a car | Source: Midjourney

If you liked this story, here’s another you’ll enjoy: “My MIL asked me to help cover her debt—What I discovered left me horrified.”

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.

Linda received her grandmother’s antique clocks while her covetous brother inherited the house, only to find out her share was worth nearly $200K

A greedy brother inherits a house and mocks his younger sister, who only gets five rusty old clocks from their late grandmother. Little did they know about what was hidden in those timepieces.

“Oh, so grandma called you as well?! I thought you’d be busy in the library…like a good little bookworm!” 26-year-old Brian scoffed at his younger sister Linda, 19.

She had just stepped down from the taxi. Fear filled her eyes as her heart told her: “Nothing will happen to grandma. She’ll be fine. She’ll live for a hundred years more.”

Brian and Linda had come to visit their 90-year-old granny Marlene. She had requested them to see her urgently.

“Sweethearts, I wish to see you one last time. I might not get another chance again,” Marlene had painfully told them on the call two days ago…

As Linda entered her grandma’s bedroom, she coughed, noticing that it was pretty dusty. Marlene was too old and sick to do things on her own. She hadn’t swept the floor, and Linda saw the ceiling was moldy due to leakage.

Linda opened the clock, and what she found inside would go on to change her life.
“Grandma!!” she ran and hugged Marlene, who was in bed. “Nothing will happen to you, grandma. Please don’t worry. God will not take you away from us because you are all that we have.”

Until a year ago, Linda lived with Marlene. She took good care of her and helped her a lot. She was even ready to turn down a life-changing scholarship but moved to the city to pursue her degree upon Marlene’s insistence.

Brian entered the room, coughing and grinning. “Damn…I’m allergic to dust! Grandma, didn’t you sweep and dust your room?”

He came closer and saw his grandma was sick and skinny. But he was least bothered and stood there, waiting to know why she had called them.

Marlene stared into Brian’s eyes as she clasped Linda’s shivering hands. The girl was pained to see her grandma so pale and her eyes lacking that once beautiful spark. They looked lifeless.

Marlene smiled, getting up gently, and took two envelopes from under her pillow. “Sweethearts, this is for you,” she said. “Please use it wisely. I called to give it to you.”

Brian and Linda opened the envelopes and found a wad of $5,000 in each.

Linda could not hold back her tears and ran out crying.

Meanwhile, Brian frowned. “Only this much? I thought you had more to spare. Fine, I have to go now.” He turned his back on Marlene and walked away without even thanking her.

The next day, Marlene was in for a surprise.

“Good morning, grandma!” Marlene heard Linda in her bedroom. She didn’t expect her to return.

She awakened as the girl undrew the curtains, shafts of beams lighting up the dark, dusty bedroom.

She was surprised to see Linda. She had thought the girl had left for the city where she studied and was a part-time librarian.

Linda walked over to Marlene with the envelope she had given her the previous day.

“I added the $4,000 I’d saved over the year. Grandma, remember you told me about your poor vision? I now have $9,000. We can now pay for your eye surgery.”

Marlene rose from her bed. She hugged Linda, tears streaking her face. “I knew you better, darling! But it’s too late for the surgery. I can sense my death nearing. I don’t want to waste this money when it can be used for something better.”

Linda wiped away Marlene’s tears and said she would live with her.

“I’ve taken a month off. I’m not going anywhere until I see that golden smile on your face, grandma.”

And Linda knew what she had to do to restore Marlene’s smile.

Having Linda around was of great help to Marlene. She didn’t have to worry about cooking for herself.

There were days when Marlene would eat stale bread for dinner when she never felt like making herself a nice meal. But after Linda came, she started feeling on her feet again. Marlene had never felt so relaxed and happy before.

One day, she heard strangers’ voices outside her bedroom and went out to check. She was surprised. Linda had spent the $9,000 on renovating the house and fixing the leakage.

“I knew you wanted to repair grandpa’s treasured house for a long time. Are you happy now, grandma?! I renovated it so that you see the beautiful house you once lived in with grandpa. Do you like it?”

Marlene was speechless. She walked to Linda as fast as her fragile legs could carry her and hugged her. Marlene had never cried like she wept on Linda’s shoulders that day.

Marlene often made a wish. “I want to die when I’m the happiest on earth!” A week later, her wish was fulfilled. Marlene died in her sleep, leaving Linda with more than a broken heart.

A couple of days after the funeral, Linda and Brian were called to the lawyer’s office regarding the late Marlene’s will they never knew about.

When they got there, they were told about another surprise inheritance.

“Mr. White, according to your grandma’s will, you’ll be getting her house. Here are the papers. Please sign them.”

Linda was startled. She was not jealous of her older brother, but it worried her because she had renovated the house, and Brian got it when he least deserved it.

“And Miss Linda, this is yours,” the lawyer said, pushing forward a box toward Linda.

“What is this?” she exclaimed and opened the box. She found five old vintage clocks inside. Brian burst into laughter and began mocking her.

“That’s hella insane and cheap!! Grandma left her house to me. She knew who deserved the best. You can decorate your rented apartment with these rusty clocks and cry over it, sis. Luck does not favor everyone!”

Distraught, Linda left for the city, taking the clocks with her. She never bothered to check them thoroughly until one day when she noticed an engraving on one of them.

“OPEN IT!” was etched in a beautiful cursive font on the metal.

Curious, Linda opened the clock, and what she found inside would go on to change her life.

“A note?” she exclaimed and picked a little scroll from the clock’s interior. She unfolded it and sat back, stunned.

“Never underestimate these rusty, old watches! They are 100-year-old classic timepieces that belonged to my grandfather. And they are crafted from rare, exquisite metal! Each piece is worth $40,000, my dear!” began the note.

Linda’s eyes filled with tears of joy as she read further.

“Everyone gets what they truly deserve, Linda! I’m glad you got only the best. With Love, Granny Marlene.”

Linda burst into tears as she held the vintage clocks close to her heart. They still functioned, and she could hear them tick close to her heartbeat. It felt as though her granny had not gone anywhere.

Linda chose not to disclose this to her brother.

“He is blinded by greed and thinks he got the best from grandma. Let him live with that assumption. Granny knew who deserved the best and I needn’t prove it to him!” she thought and kept the rare timepieces locked in her drawer.

What can we learn from the story?

Everyone gets what they truly deserve. Brian mocked Linda when she inherited only five old clocks from their grandmother. Little did he know that she had actually gotten what she truly deserved because each piece was worth over $40,000.
Love and accept your elders for who they are. You will be loved back a hundredfold. Linda loved her grandma unconditionally and cared for her without expecting anything in return. Ultimately, she inherited a surprise $200K worth of legacy after her granny’s death.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

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