Emma, a committed nanny, finally hit her limit when her sister-in-law, Karen, constantly mocked her career and exploited her generosity. In a smart move to help Karen see the worth of her work, Emma planned a lesson they’d both remember.
I’ve always loved looking after kids. From a young age, I knew I wanted to support children, helping them grow and discover. So, it was no shock when I became a professional nanny. I’m proud of my role, and the families I work with value my effort.
My sister-in-law, Karen, knew about my job from the start. Karen and I had an okay relationship, though we were never very close. She had two sweet kids, Lily and Jack, whom I adore.
However, Karen’s pushy attitude often bothered me. She had a habit of expecting people to go all out for her, without thinking about their own needs.
It began simply enough. Karen would sometimes ask if I could watch Lily and Jack for an hour or two. I was fine helping now and then, especially for family. But soon, her requests grew more frequent and bold.
“Hey, Emma, can you take the kids tomorrow from 9 to 5? I’ve got a spa day planned,” she asked one evening.
“Karen, that’s a full workday. I have other duties,” I replied.
“Oh, come on! You’re a nanny. It’s not like you’re doing anything new,” she shot back, ignoring my concerns.
That hurt. My job was being downplayed, and Karen acted like my time wasn’t valuable just because I was a nanny. She never offered money or recognized the trouble she caused.
The tipping point came when Karen called one Friday evening.
“Hey, I need you to watch the kids tomorrow from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. Mike and I are going to a friend’s wedding,” she said, her tone firm.
“I’m sorry, Karen, but I have plans. I can’t cancel on my clients,” I responded, keeping my anger in check.
“You’re always with kids anyway. Why can’t you just bring Lily and Jack along?” she snapped.
“Karen, this is my work. I can’t just take other kids without the parents’ permission,” I explained, worn out.
“You know what? Forget it! I thought family was supposed to back each other. Clearly, I was wrong,” she huffed and hung up.
The next morning, my phone buzzed with a text from Karen: “I’m dropping the kids off at 8. We really need you. Thanks.”
I sighed, knowing I had to stay strong. I called her back and waited for her to answer.
“Hello?” Karen said, sounding rushed.
“Karen, I saw your text, but I already said I have plans. I can’t watch Lily and Jack today,” I said clearly.
“Emma, please! We don’t have anyone else. Just this once,” she begged.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. I have tasks for my clients. They count on me too,” I replied, staying calm.
“Fine. I guess I’ll just cancel everything then. Thanks for nothing,” she snapped and hung up.
I felt upset and mad. It wasn’t fair that Karen expected me to drop everything for her, especially without any respect for my time or job.
I knew I had to make Karen see how unfair her demands were. That Saturday, while I was at home, an idea popped up.
Karen, a professional cook, often hosted big dinner parties. I decided to use her own reasoning against her. I called my brother to confirm Karen was hosting a dinner party that evening. Perfect timing.
I drove to Karen’s house around 4 p.m. I knew she wouldn’t be home, as she’d mentioned running errands before the party.
Using the spare key they’d given me for emergencies, I let myself in. The kitchen was filled with yummy dishes she’d spent the day making.
I started packing the food into containers I’d brought. I took everything I could: appetizers, main courses, desserts. When I finished, I left a note on the counter: “Since you’re a cook, I figured you wouldn’t mind sharing some of your food for free. After all, it’s just what you do, right?”
I drove home, unpacked the food, and waited. Soon, my phone rang. It was Karen, her voice frantic and angry.
“What’s going on? All the food I made is gone! Did you take it?” she shouted.
“Yes, Karen, I did,” I replied calmly.
“Why would you do that? I have guests coming in an hour!” she yelled.
“Well, since you’re a cook, I figured you wouldn’t mind giving away some food for free. After all, it’s just what you do, right?” I said, repeating my note.
There was a stunned silence on the other end.
Finally, she spoke, her voice softer. “I can’t believe you did this, Emma. I’ve been cooking all day.”
“And I can’t believe you keep expecting me to drop everything for you. I have a job too,” I said, keeping my cool.
“You know I’m a cook. It’s not the same as what you do,” she snapped.
“Maybe not, but my time is valuable. Just because I’m a nanny doesn’t mean my work isn’t worthy,” I said firmly.
She sighed. “I get it, okay? I get it now. But what am I supposed to do about tonight?”
“You can order takeout or ask your guests to bring something. Just like I have to shuffle things when you ask me to watch Lily and Jack last minute,” I suggested.
“Fine. You made your point. I’ll figure it out,” she grumbled and hung up.
From that day on, Karen never made unfair demands of me.
I don’t think she fully valued my work, but she always offered to pay when she needed help with Lily and Jack. It was a tough lesson, but it taught her to respect others’ efforts.
As for me, I gained fresh confidence in standing up for myself and the career I love.
