When my brother left his spoiled children with me and my teenage son for two weeks, I expected chaos, not snobbery and overbearing. From mocking our cooking to insulting my son’s laptop, his arrogance knew no bounds. I held my tongue… until a car ride forced me to settle the score.
You know that feeling when you agree to something and your gut instinct immediately starts screaming at you? That’s exactly what happened when my brother called with his “small favor.”
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
“Hello, little sister,” he said, in that tone of voice he used when he wanted something.
Newly promoted, he was riding the crest of a wave of success and apparently thought the world owed him a break.
“Could Tyler and Jaden stay with you for two weeks? Amy and I are going away for three weeks on a well-deserved luxury break.”
A woman having a phone conversation | Source: Pexels
“We really need this vacation,” he added. “And it’s only for two weeks. Amy’s mom already agreed to take the kids for the last week. You’re amazing with kids, and it’ll be nice for our children to spend more time together.”
I should have heard that twisting in my stomach. I should have heard the alarm bells.
But family is family, right?
A thoughtful woman | Source: Pexels
Two days later, they showed up at my door.
Picture it: two teenagers dragging designer suitcases as if checking into the Four Seasons, sunglasses dangling from their heads.
I hadn’t seen my nephews in a while, and boy, had they changed. They radiated the kind of practiced disdain that made me feel like I’d agreed to host royalty in a hovel.
Two teenagers on a porch | Source: Midjourney
Tyler, 13, seemed to have mastered the art of superiority, while Jaden, 15, had an attitude that could cut glass.
My son Adrian, bless him, bounced over with that nervous smile he gets when he’s trying too hard.
“Hey, guys! Do you want something to eat? Mom made cookies yesterday.”
A teenager standing in a classroom | Source: Midjourney
Tyler curled his lip and sniffed the air as if he were expecting catered hors d’oeuvres instead of my humble homemade chocolate chip cookies.
“This place smells like… spaghetti?” he said, his voice thick with disgust.
I was making dinner. You know, that thing normal people do to feed their families.
A pot on a stove | Source: Pexels
“That’s because I’m making spaghetti,” I said, forcing a smile. “I hope you’re hungry.”
The dinner that followed should have been my first real clue as to what lay ahead. I served spaghetti Bolognese, thinking it was safe territory. Warm, familiar, the kind of food that brings families together.
Instead, I got a Broadway-worthy performance.
Spaghetti Bolognese on a plate | Source: Pexels
Tyler dug into the sauce as if it was going to attack him. “Is this… canned meat?”
Jaden, not to be outdone, chimed in with his nose in the air: “Our chef makes a candied garlic mix in-house.”
Their chef. Of course, they had a chef.
A sullen-looking teenager sitting at the kitchen table | Source: Midjourney
I swallowed my pride along with my anger, trying to laugh it off. “Well, our chef—that’s me—does the best she can on a professor’s budget.”
But they weren’t finished. No, they had just begun.
Adrian, the sweet guy that he is, tried to bridge the gap. He pulled out his gaming laptop, eager to share something fun.
A laptop on a table | Source: Pexels
“Do you want to play something together? I have some really cool games.”
Jaden’s response was a laugh that could have shattered windows. “What is this? Windows 98?”
Tyler added: “Can it run Fortnite, or just Solitaire?”
And that’s when I realized this wasn’t going to be about different rules or adapting to a new place.
A woman drinking coffee | Source: Pexels
It was about my nephews treating my house like a prison and my son like he was beneath them.
The complaints kept coming.
The guest beds were too soft compared to the adjustable spine mattresses they had at home.
An unmade bed | Source: Pexels
My refrigerator was apparently old because it had buttons instead of voice commands.
They mocked my 55-inch television as if it were a black and white relic.
But the worst part?
Watching Adrian try so hard to be nice while they mocked everything he offered them.
A teenager smiling while talking to someone | Source: Midjourney
“Why don’t we play outside?” I would suggest, and they would roll their eyes.
“Do you want to see my Lego collection?” I would ask, and they would exchange glances as if I had suggested they visit a landfill.
Every day was the same.
Two teenagers on a couch | Source: Midjourney
They ate their food as if I had taken it out of a dumpster and acted as if basic tasks were beneath them, as if helping with the dishes might make their hands fall off.
And yet, I still held my tongue.
I kept reminding myself: It’s only two weeks. You can survive for two weeks.
A woman looking to the side | Source: Pexels
But patience isn’t infinite, and mine was running out.
I counted the days. My brother had already booked a flight to visit his grandparents. He just had to drop them off at the airport and he’d be free.
The finish line was in sight.
A smiling woman combing her hair | Source: Pexels
I tried not to smile too much as Tyler and Jaden packed their bags in my car on the last day. Finally, finally! The day had arrived.
As we pulled out of my garage, the seat belt alert started going off.
“Fasten your seatbelts, guys,” I said, looking in the rearview mirror.
Tyler responded with a nonchalant arrogance that sent my blood pressure soaring.
Two teenagers in the backseat of a car | Source: Midjourney
“We don’t wear them,” he said. “It wrinkles my shirt. Dad doesn’t care.”
“Well, I do,” I said, keeping my voice level as I parked on the sidewalk. “Wrinkled shirts are a small price to pay for safety. No seatbelt, no ride.”
“You’re not serious,” Jaden said, crossing his arms.
A teenager | Source: Midjourney
But I meant it. Very seriously.
I was fed up with my spoiled nephews and their bad attitudes. My patience was running out, but all the frustration I’d built up felt like a bomb waiting to explode.
I took a deep breath and tried to appeal to the only thing they seemed to understand: money.
A serious woman | Source: Pexels
“Listen, kids, this is California,” I said, a little more sharply than I intended. “It’s a $500 fine for any child riding in a car without a seatbelt.”
They laughed. They genuinely smiled, as if it were some kind of game they were sure to win.
“Oh,” Jaden said gently. “You should have said you’re too cheap to pay the fine, Aunt Sarah. We’ll have Dad send you the money.”
A defiant teenager | Source: Midjourney
I gripped the steering wheel so hard I swore I heard it creak. I didn’t trust myself to speak at that moment.
Instead, I mentally reminded myself that they were just kids, brats who needed a lesson, but just kids.
Jaden took out his phone and called his father, putting it on speakerphone.
A mobile phone | Source: Pexels
“Dad, he won’t drive unless we put our seatbelts on,” Tyler complained as soon as the call connected.
“She just doesn’t want to pay the $1,000 fine if she gets caught, Dad,” Jaden added with a weary sigh. “Can you send her the money or something?”
My brother’s voice crackled through the phone. “Buckle up! What’s wrong with you two?”
And he hung up immediately.
A person holding a cell phone | Source: Pexels
Even when their father told them to comply, they sat there, arms crossed and chins raised, as if they were making a grand political statement.
That’s when I reached my limit.
I turned off the engine and took the key out of the ignition.
“Okay,” I said, opening the door. “You’re not going anywhere.”
A car with the front door open | Source: Pexels
I got out, walked to the front of the car, and stood by the hood with my arms crossed. Those guys had tested me for the last time!
Want to know what 45 minutes of sulking teenagers in a car sounds like? It’s a symphony of snorting, sighing, and dramatic whining about being late for their flight.
I didn’t give in.
A determined woman | Source: Pexels
These kids had to learn that the world doesn’t bend to their whims just because Mom and Dad usually let them get away with it.
Finally, Tyler broke down.
“Okay!” he shouted. “We’ll put on our damn seatbelts! Drive. We don’t want to miss the flight.”
Jaden did the same with a look that could have energized a small town.
A person putting on a seatbelt | Source: Pexels
But they don’t care about the consequences.
While they were busy with their little tantrum, traffic had built up. What should have been a smooth ride to the airport turned into a crawl through congested streets.
We arrived at the departure terminal ten minutes after boarding time.
The inside of an airport | Source: Pexels
Their faces when they realized they had missed their flight were priceless.
All that attitude, all that defiance, and for what?
My phone rang before we got back to the car. My brother’s name appeared on the screen, and I knew he’d received the missed flight notification.
A woman holding a cell phone | Source: Pexels
“It’s your fault!” he burst out as soon as I answered. “You should have given them a ride!”
That’s when two weeks of biting my tongue finally paid off. I let the truth land like a slap in the face.
“Am I supposed to break the law because your kids think they’re above it? Maybe if you’d taught them basic rules of respect and safety instead of entitlement and arrogance, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
A woman talking on her cell phone | Source: Pexels
He hung up. And just like that. Click.
The next day, Adrian showed me a text Tyler had sent him: “Your mom is crazy.”
I burst out laughing.
No, honey. I’m not crazy. I’m just not your personal maid. There’s a difference, and it’s time someone showed you what it looks like.
A woman relaxing in a chair | Source: Pexels
I don’t regret a single minute of that confrontation. Not the missed flight, the angry calls, or even the family drama that followed.
Little princes with rights must learn that the real world has rules. And those rules apply to everyone, including them.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to real events is purely coincidental and not the author’s intention.
The author and publisher do not guarantee the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters, and are not responsible for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and the opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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