My FIL Moved Into Our House After My MIL Ended Up in the Hospital & He Tried to Make Me His Maid — He Didn’t Expect My Response

When my father-in-law moved into our home, I thought we were doing him a favor. But soon, his presence turned into something I never could’ve anticipated — something that tested my patience, my marriage, and my limits.

When my mother-in-law ended up in the hospital unexpectedly, my father-in-law, Frank seemed utterly lost. He’d always depended on her for everything — cooking, cleaning, even remembering to take his medication. Without her, he was like a rudderless ship.

“I don’t know what to do with myself,” he admitted when my husband, Brian, and I visited him a few days after the incident. His cheerful voice was low, and his shoulders drooped.

Brian squeezed my hand, giving me the look — the one that said he was about to make an impulsive decision I’d have to clean up later. Sure enough, he turned to his dad and said, “Why don’t you come stay with us for a bit? It’ll be better than being alone.”

Son talking to his depressed dad | Source: Midjourney

Son talking to his depressed dad | Source: Midjourney

Frank’s eyes lit up, and before I could process what just happened, he was moving into our guest room with an alarming amount of suitcases for someone who claimed it was “temporary.”

At first, it was fine. He seemed grateful, even a bit shy about imposing. But then little things started to change.

“Hey, dear,” he called out one afternoon while I was on a Zoom call for work. “Can you grab me some coffee? I can’t find the pods.”

“They’re right on the counter,” I replied.

“Yeah, but you know how to work the machine better,” he said, chuckling as though I’d find this endearing.

Senior man seated next to a coffee making machine | Source: Midjourney

Senior man seated next to a coffee making machine | Source: Midjourney

Then it was, “Can you fix me a sandwich?” and “Don’t forget my toast in the mornings, I like it just golden.” One day, he even handed me a basket of his clothes, saying, “I’ll need these for golf tomorrow. Thanks, daughter.”

Each time, Brian was “too busy” to notice. But my patience? That was wearing dangerously thin. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could play along.

The breaking point came on a Thursday evening — a night I’ll never forget. My father-in-law decided to host poker night at our house, apparently without feeling the need to ask me first.

“Just a couple of guys, nothing big,” he’d said that morning, flashing a grin as he searched through the fridge. “We’ll keep it clean. You’ll barely notice we’re here.”

Senior man standing next to the fridge talking to his daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

Senior man standing next to the fridge talking to his daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

Barely notice? By 8 p.m. the living room was transformed into a smoky den of laughter, chips clinking, and loud chatter. And me? I was in the kitchen, balancing trays of snacks and refilling drinks like an unpaid server.

“Hey, we’re out of beer!” one of his friends yelled. “Sweetheart,” Frank called to me, not even bothering to stand, “Can you grab some from the garage?” I clenched my jaw, my blood boiling, but I grabbed the beer.

When another one of his friends tapped his glass and said, “A little more ice,” I nearly lost it.

Senior men hanging out | Source: Midjourney

Senior men hanging out | Source: Midjourney

After the game, as Frank walked his buddies to the door, I overheard him chuckling and saying to Brian, “See? That’s how you should treat a woman.”

The words hit me like a slap. I felt my stomach twist as the realization sunk in. This wasn’t just about poker night — it was about a pattern. I’d seen it for years in the way Frank treated my MIL like she was there solely to cater to him. Now he was training my husband to do the same.

Father and son having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

Father and son having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

It started small, almost unnoticeable. “Hey, can you grab me a drink while you’re up?” Brian would ask, even when I wasn’t already standing. At first, I didn’t think much of it — he’d always been good about splitting chores and being considerate. But then, those small favors turned into expectations.

One evening, as I was folding laundry, Brian walked past with a plate from his dinner. Instead of putting it in the sink like he always did, he left it on the coffee table. “Can you take care of that?” he asked, not even breaking stride.

Another time, I was in the middle of preparing dinner when he strolled into the kitchen. “Don’t forget I need my blue shirt ironed for tomorrow,” he said, planting a kiss on my cheek like it would soften the demand.

Couple in the kitchen preparing dinner | Source: Midjourney

Couple in the kitchen preparing dinner | Source: Midjourney

That was it. “No, Brian,” I said, my voice firm. “I’ve taken it seriously enough. You both need to understand—this stops now. I am not your maid, and I am not his either.”

The tension in the room was thick, and I could see Brian’s stunned face as I walked out, determined that things were about to change—for good.

The very next morning, after a sleepless night of seething and strategizing, I sat down at the dining table with my laptop and began typing out a “rental agreement.” I wasn’t going to charge Frank rent, but I wanted clear, no-nonsense rules. If he was going to stay under our roof, things were going to change.

Woman using her laptop | Source: Pexels

Woman using her laptop | Source: Pexels

The rules were simple but non-negotiable:

  1. I cook one meal for everyone each day. If someone wants something else, they can cook it themselves.
  2. If you’re physically capable of doing something, you do it yourself—this includes fetching drinks, laundry, and cleaning up after meals.
  3. Everyone cleans up after themselves. Dishes go in the dishwasher, not the sink. The laundry will be folded and put away by the person who wore it.
  4. If you invite guests over, you’re responsible for hosting them, including food, drinks, and cleanup.
  5. No sexist comments or behavior — this house operates on mutual respect, period.
  6. Contributions to household chores are expected, not optional. You live here; you pitch in.
Identical cubes with RULES inscription | Source: Pexels

Identical cubes with RULES inscription | Source: Pexels

I printed it out, stapled the pages together, and waited until Frank came into the kitchen. He looked startled to see me sitting there, sipping my coffee with a hard copy of the rules in front of me.

“Morning,” he said cautiously, sensing the shift in my demeanor.

“Morning,” I replied, pushing the document toward him. “We need to talk.”

“What’s this?” he asked, frowning as he scanned the first page.

“It’s a rental agreement for staying in this house,” I said evenly. “These are the rules moving forward.”

Frank blinked at me, his face turning red. “Rules? What is this, the army? I’m your guest!”

Annoyed senior man | Source: Midjourney

Annoyed senior man | Source: Midjourney

“No,” I said sharply. “You’re not a guest anymore. You’ve been here for weeks. You’re family, which means you’re not entitled to sit back while everyone else waits on you. This is how it’s going to work if you’re staying here.”

Brian walked in midway through the exchange, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “What’s going on?” he asked, glancing between us.

“Your wife is trying to turn this house into a dictatorship,” Frank said, slapping the paper onto the table.

Brian picked up the agreement and skimmed it. “Uh, isn’t this a bit… much?” he said, hesitating.

Young man in deep thoughts reading a document | Source: Pexels

Young man in deep thoughts reading a document | Source: Pexels

“No, Brian,” I said, meeting his eyes. “What’s much is your father treating me like I’m his maid? And lately, you’ve started doing the same. That stops today.”

The room fell silent. Frank looked like he was ready to explode, and Brian seemed torn. But I held my ground, unflinching.

“You can either follow the rules,” I said, standing up, “or find somewhere else to stay.”

Frank opened his mouth to argue but closed it again, realizing I wasn’t bluffing. For the first time in weeks, I felt in control — and I wasn’t about to let that go.

Young woman and a senior man having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

Young woman and a senior man having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

When my mother-in-law, Sarah, finally came home from the hospital, I was both nervous and relieved. Nervous because I had no idea how she’d react to what I’d done, and relieved because, frankly, Frank had been a handful.

As she settled on the couch, sipping the tea I’d made her, I slid the “rental agreement” across the table. “Sarah,” I began, choosing my words carefully, “I need you to see this. It’s something I worked on while Frank was staying here.”

Her brows furrowed as she read, her lips tightening at first. By the time she got to Rule 5, she glanced up at me with a knowing smile. “Oh, I like this one,” she said. “Mutual respect. Novel concept for him.”

Senior woman smiling while reading a document | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman smiling while reading a document | Source: Midjourney

I exhaled, grateful she didn’t seem offended. “I know you care deeply about him,” I said, sitting beside her. “But Sarah, he’s been relying on you for far too long. It’s not fair to you. And while he was here… well, let’s just say I realized how much you’ve been carrying all these years.”

Her eyes softened, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of exhaustion. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “It’s been like this since the day we got married. I just… I thought it was my job.”

“No,” I said firmly, taking her hand. “It’s time for him to step up. Not just for your sake, but for his.

Sarah chuckled, shaking her head. “I wish I’d done this years ago.”

Senior woman and her daughter in law reading a document | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman and her daughter in law reading a document | Source: Midjourney

When Frank came into the room, Sarah waved the paper in the air. “You’ve got work to do, mister,” she said, her voice playful but firm.

He groaned, muttering something about a conspiracy, but Sarah stood her ground.

As they walked into the kitchen together, I couldn’t help but smile. For the first time, it felt like Sarah wasn’t carrying the entire load alone.

“Hey,” Brian said, coming up behind me. “You really think he’ll stick to it?”

I turned, watching Sarah guide Frank to the sink where she handed him a dish towel. For the first time, he didn’t argue — he just started drying.

I smiled, my voice steady. “He doesn’t have a choice. Because this time, we’re all playing by the rules.”

Family setting dinner on the table | Source: Midjourney

Family setting dinner on the table | Source: Midjourney

Love this story? You won’t want to miss the next one: My FIL threatened me after I caught him with his mistress in a café—But karma stepped in at just the right moment. You won’t believe how it all unfolds! Click here to dive in.

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 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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“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?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“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.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“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.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“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?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“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.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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—

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“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.

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

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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