When Christopher’s parents learned about his dreams of joining a fashion internship, they were dead set against his decision. They tried to persuade him otherwise and eventually kicked him out, not knowing the tables would be turned years later.
Christopher’s mother, beamed as she checked the college acceptance letters that had arrived for her son. Besides Dartmouth and Georgetown, Christopher had also made it to Stanford.
She couldn’t help but call out to her husband excitedly, and the parents rushed upstairs to their son’s room to make the big announcement. “Son! You got into Stanford! You did it!” his mother exclaimed.
“My boy! A Stanford man! I’m so proud of you!” his stoic father smiled as he hugged him tightly.
“Wait, guys!” Christopher tried to interject, but they weren’t listening. He should’ve guessed something was wrong when his parents, who weren’t the most affectionate or emotional people in the world, just barged into his room with smiles.
“Let’s call your grandparents! They’ll be so happy! Oh! And let’s plan a party!” Christopher’s mother went on as she joined her husband and son.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Stop, Mom!” Christopher snapped. “Please stop!”
“What’s wrong, son?” his mother frowned, pulling away.
“You’re wrong!” Christopher screamed, pulling away from his father. “I’M NOT GOING TO STANFORD!”
“But son, Stanford is our family legacy. All men have to go there,” his father added while his mother nodded in agreement.
“Guys, stop! Stop acting like I’m not here! I’m not going to Stanford or any of those stupid schools! Alright?”
“Chris!” his mother warned.
“No, Mom, let me speak. I tried to tell you, but you shut me down,” Christopher continued, reaching for the papers on his bed. “This…I’m going to New York. I got a fashion internship.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Richard face drained of blood, and his wife’s eyes bulged out in horror. “Fashion?! You must be out of your mind, boy!” h
“Dad, c’mon, you sell clothes! You should understand me!” Christopher tried explaining his dreams to them, but his parents turned a deaf ear to him.
“Well, I don’t make clothes, son! Or worse, design them! I own the business. I’m not going to spend my money on your stupid dream! You just proved we were failures as parents! You gotta leave! You’re worthless to me!” he said and walked away.
Christopher looked at his mother and held her hands. “Mom, it’s my dream. I need your help to convince Dad!” he pleaded with her.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
But his mother pulled her hand away and shook her head. “Our dream for you was Stanford, son. Sorry, but you need to leave this house.”
Those words stung Christopher, and he could hear his mother’s cry from his bedroom. But he was not going to give up on his dreams. So he packed his bags, called his friend Johnny, and left.
Christopher had decided that he would fly to New York with Johnny once he graduated high school. And that’s what he did.
Johnny’s parents took him in after he was kicked out of his home. And a couple of months later, after the boys graduated high school, they flew to New York.
Johnny was attending NYU while working at his uncle’s brokerage firm, and Christopher received a small stipend for his fashion internship but worked nights at a 24-hour market to pay the rest of his bills.
Christopher hadn’t heard from his parents since the day they kicked him out. In fact, they didn’t even come to his graduation or to see him off at the airport.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Things got tough for him ever since he had left home, and it was only after arriving in New York that he realized the path to his dreams was not going to be all roses.
There was a final project for his internship, a chance to show a small line to big design houses, but the materials and fabrics were costly, and Christopher realized he couldn’t afford his vision. So he called his father to ask for help.
“What do you want?” Richard angrily asked, answering the phone. The man didn’t even bother asking his son how he was doing.
“Hey, Dad,” Christopher said timidly. “I need your help. Actually, there’s a big opportunity coming up for me.”
“On what? To choose different kinds of pink?” his father said sarcastically.
“No, it’s not that,” Christopher explained that he would get a job instantly if they liked his project at the internship, and they would also fund his future education.
But Richard’s tone remained stiff. “So why are you telling me this?” he sneered, and Christopher could imagine his father rolling his eyes.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“I need some money,” Christopher said, getting to the point. He was embarrassed but didn’t have a choice. “And it won’t be a handout. I’ll pay you back. The thing is, I can’t miss this chance. It might set me up for life.”
“Well, you’re an adult now, and you make your own choices. Deal with it. You should have gone to Stanford,” his father said heartlessly and hung up.
Christopher hadn’t cried months ago when his parents kicked him out, but he couldn’t contain his emotions any longer. He buried his face in the table before him and sobbed so heavily that Johnny came in.
“Hey, man, it’s OK,” he consoled Christopher and grabbed a chair. It took a few minutes for Christopher to calm down and narrate what had just happened.
“Why don’t you borrow some money from me?” Johnny suggested, but Christopher refused. He already owed their flat’s deposit to him.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Is there any chance you could take a break? Like when you defer a class?” Johnny suggested. He noticed Christopher looked unsure. “Look, you could ask them, and hey, I have a spot at my uncle’s firm. You could take that job, make enough money, and finish your internship.”
Christopher never wanted to work in an office. He had aspired to become a fashion designer. But then Johnny explained to him that if he performed well at the job, his uncle’s firm would pay for his school.
Christopher was always good with numbers, and the money was tight, so he accepted the offer. “I think that’ll work,” he nodded nervously.
“Cheer up, dude! You’ll be back in fashion in no time,” Johnny encouraged him, and Christopher nodded, telling himself that he would make his own money. He didn’t need his dad’s help.
Ten years later, things changed. Richard couldn’t bring himself to look at the papers piled on his desk. He had to make a decision on whether to file for Chapter 13 or sell his company.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Richard could try to start over, but he didn’t want another defeat. He failed miserably as a father when Christopher refused to join Stanford to pursue fashion.
“I’m going to toss a coin! Let destiny pick,” the older man thought and nodded, hurling away the papers on his desk in frustration. Right then, his secretary barged into his office.
“Richard, I found something!” she said and placed a document on his desk, pointing her finger at a name in the papers.
Richard’s eyes widened in shock. “Is this…But that’s impossible,” he muttered, reading more. Richard couldn’t believe his son’s name was included in the buyer profiles.
“I made some calls and confirmed it, sir. It might be a sign from the universe,” she said. “He has a stellar reputation. He worked for a brokerage firm and climbed the ladder quicker than most people. He also bought other struggling businesses and expanded in clothes, accessories, and much more. I think it’s worth trying.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Richard smiled and even let out a chuckle. His son was a real businessman, not a failed designer surviving on ramen in a dirty studio apartment. He decided he would sell the company to his son.
A few days later, Richard walked into his company’s conference room wearing a wide grin on his face. He confidently shook hands with everyone and smiled at his son.
Christopher sat surrounded by his lawyers. The negotiations had already taken place, and all that was left was signing papers. After that, the company would officially be his.
“Don’t be so serious, son. Your mother is outside. Let’s celebrate after we wrap this up,” Richard told his son, but Christopher didn’t accept the invitation.
His parents had refused to help when he needed it the most. It was Johnny who helped him get the job at the brokerage firm, and Christopher was so good that he quickly climbed to the top. But Christopher couldn’t return to fashion or the internship.
After Johnny moved out, Christopher had to keep working hard to afford living expenses, and his dreams of becoming a fashion designer disappeared. But when a deal with a clothes company came up, he saw a chance and took it.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
The company grew so much that Christopher expanded it. And he also offered scholarships and internship programs to fashion students, healing his past wounds and somewhat fulfilling his dreams.
“Mrs. Pattison,” Christopher called his father’s secretary after signing the papers, ignoring his father. “Richard should leave the building. And yes, this applies to his wife too.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Richard jumped to his feet in anger.
“Please be quick, or I’ll be forced to call security,” he told Mrs. Pattison, looking his father in the eyes. “I have no interest in going to dinner with you two! But yes, I do want to know one thing…Am I worthy enough now?”
Richard’s eyes were red in anger, but he nodded and walked away, escorted by security guards.
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a father who tried to end his son’s craze for dance, only for the young boy to end up in the hospital.
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.
My Entitled Daughter-in-Law Demanded That I Retire – My Son Gave Her a Reality Check
Hi there, I’m Nora, and if you told me a week ago I’d be venting on the internet about my family drama, I would have laughed. But here I am, a private school teacher with 13 years under my belt, caught up in a pickle that sounds straight out of a daytime drama.
A smiling senior woman pictured while gardening | Source: Shutterstock
I’ve been teaching at a small, tight-knit school where I know every kid by name because we have only one class per grade. It’s a special place, really, far better than the nearby public schools, which, to be honest, aren’t great.
I plan to retire in about five years, give or take, content with my quiet life and looking forward to restful golden years. Now, onto the juicy part of this saga: my relationship with my daughter-in-law, Christine.
A woman not talking to her mother-in-law | Source: Getty Images
To put it mildly, we’re not exactly chummy. At family gatherings, we orbit each other like distant planets, exchanging polite nods more out of necessity than desire. Civility, that’s our unspoken agreement.
But last week, Christine dropped a bombshell that could have made headlines in our family’s newsletter, if we had one. It turns out, my adorable grandson Joey is set to start school next fall, and guess what? He’ll be landing right in my class.
A little boy standing in a sunflower field | Source: Unsplash
You’d think that’d make things simple, right? Nope, Christine had other plans. She cornered me one evening and demanded, yes, demanded, that I retire! “It was your plan anyway,” she said, her tone sharp as a tack. “A couple of years won’t change anything.”
I was gobsmacked! The audacity floored me so much I couldn’t muster a single word in response. Over the next few days, she didn’t let up. Every chance she got, she started arguments, trying to corner me into agreeing to retire sooner. It was relentless.
A mother-in-law and daughter-in-law arguing | Source: Getty Images
Just when I thought I’d have to cave, my son David stepped in. Ah, David, always the peacekeeper. He’d been watching this drama unfold and had cooked up a plan to give Christine the reality check she clearly needed.
So, David had been pretty quiet about his plan, but boy, did he make a splash when he put it into action. That day, as Christine strolled into the house, her eyes nearly popped out of her head.
An angry woman | Source: Getty Images
There she saw David, Joey, and a young lady I hadn’t met before, all huddled around a book on the living room couch. The scene was so calm and focused, it was like they were in their little bubble.
Christine, looking like she’d just walked into a surprise party meant for someone else, asked in a bewildered tone, “David, what’s going on here?”
Man, woman, and young boy reading | Source: Pexels
David, bless him, didn’t miss a beat. He was as calm as a cucumber when he said, “I’ve decided that Joey will be taking private lessons at home. Since you’re uncomfortable with him being in my mother’s class, this is the only viable solution. We’ll be hiring private tutors for all his subjects.”
Christine blinked a few times, obviously trying to process this new arrangement. David wasn’t done yet, though.
A surprised woman | Source: Getty Images
He continued, “This means we’ll need to redirect our finances to cover the cost of his education. It’s quite expensive, so we’ll have to cut back on our vacations, restaurant dates, and even our clothing budget. Essentials only from now on.”
“Also, since we’ll be economizing, we’ll need to cut back on takeout, which means more cooking at home for you.” The weight of his words seemed to slowly sink in as Christine’s face fell.
A woman looking at her husband during a conversation | Source: Getty Images
She started to argue, her voice tinged with desperation, “But that’s unnecessary! Can’t we just reconsider this?”
David, however, stood firm. He stressed the importance of Joey’s education and maintaining a peaceful family environment, not letting Christine’s objections sway him. “It’s important we do this the right way,” he insisted.
After the storm settled a bit and Christine had a few days to mull things over, something seemed to click in her.
A little boy completing his homework | Source: Unsplash
Maybe it was seeing David going to such lengths to sort out Joey’s education, or perhaps the realization of what her demands had been doing to everyone.
Whatever it was, the change was clear and somewhat surprising. One quiet evening, she approached me, something akin to humility in her eyes—a look I wasn’t accustomed to seeing on her.
A distressed woman lost in her thoughts | Source: Shutterstock
“I’m sorry for the trouble I caused,” she admitted, her voice soft, reflecting a genuine sense of remorse. “I didn’t realize the pressure I was putting on everyone, including you. I hope we can find a way to move forward from here.”
Hearing those words from Christine, well, it felt like a breeze after a stifling heatwave. I appreciated her coming forward to apologize; it wasn’t easy and it showed a willingness to mend fences. “Of course,” I replied, “let’s move forward, for Joey’s sake.”
A woman talking to her mother-in-law | Source: Shutterstock
So, as the next school year rolled around, Joey started attending the private school as we had originally planned. The air between Christine and me had shifted.
It wasn’t like we were about to become best friends, but there was a newfound civility, a professional courtesy almost. We both understood that whatever our differences, Joey’s well-being was the priority. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was a start.
A senior teacher sitting in her office | Source: Pexels
The school year was off to its usual bustling start, but little did I know, a small unexpected moment was about to ease some of the tension between Christine and me.
About a month in, Joey, my grandson, won a class art contest—a little victory, but a big deal for him. Proud as ever, I set up a display of his artwork in the classroom, a colorful testament to his creativity.
The little boy and his artwork | Source: Pexels
One afternoon, as Christine came to pick Joey up, something unusual happened. She paused—a rare break in her usually brisk pace. Her eyes landed on the display, and a softness appeared on her face that I hadn’t seen before.
“Joey did this?” she asked, her voice mixing surprise with a hint of pride.
“Yes, he’s quite talented,” I replied, seizing the chance to maybe, just maybe, bridge the gap between us a bit more. “He’s been very enthusiastic about art. It’s wonderful to see him express himself so creatively.”
A dragon drawing on a piece of paper | Source: Unsplash
There was a moment, just a heartbeat or two, where Christine looked from the artwork back to me. I saw something in her eyes then—maybe gratitude, maybe a reassessment of old judgments. “Thank you,” she murmured, “for encouraging him.”
That small exchange felt like a window opening after a long time closed. From that day on, our interactions took on a slightly warmer tone.
Woman looking at artwork | Source: Pexels
Christine began to inquire more about Joey’s day-to-day activities, showing a genuine interest beyond mere pleasantries. She even volunteered for a class event, which, believe me, was a surprise to all of us.
As the months rolled by, Joey flourished. Not just in his artwork, but academically and socially too. Every day, he seemed to come home with a new story, a new success, a new friend.
Boy doing a project with classmate | Source: Pexels
Seeing him thrive like this, I felt a deep reassurance about my decision to stay on as his teacher. It was proof that despite the personal challenges, my professional integrity and dedication to these kids could make a real difference.
By the end of the school year, while Christine and I hadn’t exactly turned into friends, there was mutual respect, cemented by our shared commitment to Joey’s wellbeing.
A little boy drawing at a desk | Source: Pexels
It wasn’t a perfect resolution—life seldom offers those—but it was a functional truce, a testament to the compromises we’re willing to make for the sake of the children we love.
Looking back, what began as a standoff that might have ripped our family apart, turned into a journey of understanding and compromise.
It showed me that sometimes, it’s the little things—like a child’s artwork—that can bridge the biggest divides. So, here we are, not perfect, but a family that’s learning, growing, and, most importantly, sticking together.
A happy family posing for a picture | Source: Getty Images
Leave a Reply