When my husband Mark and I pulled up to our son-in-law Tyler’s house for a family barbecue, we were expecting a fun afternoon of good food and laughter. What we weren’t expecting was to be tricked into babysitting—a setup so bold that it left us both stunned. But if Tyler and his wife, Brittany, thought we’d take it lying down, they were in for a surprise.
It had all seemed so normal when Brittany invited us over.
“Should we bring anything?” I asked her over the phone.
“Just yourselves,” she replied cheerfully. “We’ve got everything covered.”
That should have been our first clue.
On the day of the barbecue, we arrived right on time, a bottle of wine in hand despite Brittany’s assurance that they had everything. The front door was unlocked, so we let ourselves in, calling out as we stepped inside.
“Hello? Tyler? Brittany?” Mark called.
The house was a mess. Empty beer bottles, half-eaten plates of food, and crumpled napkins littered the coffee table. It didn’t look like a barbecue was about to start—it looked like it had already ended.
From the kitchen, we heard laughter and followed the sound, expecting to find our family waiting for us. Instead, we found Tyler, Brittany, and a group of their friends, all dressed up and ready to leave, drinks in hand.
“Jen! Dad! You made it!” Tyler greeted us, but there was something off about his tone.
I glanced around, noting that most of their friends had their jackets on and purses in hand. A couple was already slipping out the back door.
“You did say four p.m., didn’t you? Are we late?” I asked, confused.
Brittany exchanged a quick look with Tyler before plastering on a bright smile. “Oh, we decided to move things along a bit.”
Tyler nodded. “Yeah, we’re all going out to that new place downtown. You guys can stay and watch the kids. Oh, and the guests’ kids too.”
I blinked, trying to process what I had just heard.
This wasn’t a request. It wasn’t even a discussion. It was an expectation that we’d stay and babysit—our grandkids and their friends’ kids as well.
One of their friends grinned and said, “Thanks so much! Sitters are so expensive these days.”
Mark and I exchanged a glance. His jaw was tight, but he stayed silent. I, however, was already plotting.
I smiled sweetly. “Of course! Have fun.”
Brittany looked relieved as she grabbed her purse. “Great! The kids are in the basement watching a movie. There’s pizza in the fridge if they get hungry again.”
“How many children exactly?” I asked, keeping my tone light.
“Just seven,” Tyler replied casually, already halfway out the door. “We’ll be back by midnight. Maybe.”
And just like that, they were gone. Car doors slammed outside. Engines roared to life. We were left standing in the middle of their disaster of a house, surrounded by dirty dishes and the distant sound of children giggling downstairs.
Mark turned to me, his face red with anger. “Did they seriously just trick us into babysitting?”
“Oh, they absolutely did,” I replied, still absorbing the audacity of it all. “And they didn’t even ask.”
“We shouldn’t just take this,” Mark muttered. “This isn’t right.”
“No, it’s not,” I agreed. Then a bright idea hit me, and a slow smile spread across my face.
I whispered my plan to Mark, and as I spoke, his anger morphed into amusement.
“That’s brilliant, Jenny. Let’s do it.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces. But first, let’s make sure the kids are taken care of.”
We spent the next few hours playing with the children, feeding them a proper dinner, supervising their bedtime routine, and making sure everyone was safe and settled. By 9:30, all seven children were fast asleep.
Then, we got to work.
At 10:30, I picked up my phone and called Brittany.
She answered on the third ring, music and laughter booming in the background. “Hello?”
I gasped dramatically. “Brittany! It’s a disaster! You need to come home now!”
Then I hung up.
My phone lit up immediately with her return call. I showed Mark, then set the phone on the table and let it ring.
“Let them sweat a little,” I said with a smirk.
Minutes later, tires screeched into the driveway. The front door burst open, and Tyler and Brittany rushed inside, their friends trailing behind, looking pale with fear.
“What happened? Where are the kids?” Brittany shrieked.
I looked up from my magazine. “Oh, everyone’s fine. They’re all asleep.”
Tyler’s jaw dropped. “But you said it was a disaster!”
I set the magazine down. “Oh, that? Just wanted to make sure you hurried back. You seemed so eager to leave your children with us, I figured you needed a reminder of what real responsibility feels like.”
Brittany sputtered. “But… but you said—”
I waved a hand dismissively. “The real disaster was your manners, dear.”
Tyler opened his mouth, but Mark clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
We grabbed our coats and walked out, leaving them standing in the middle of their spotless living room, their friends shifting uncomfortably behind them.
The next weekend, we invited them to dinner at our house.
They arrived, expecting a homemade meal, only to find takeout containers stacked on the dining table.
“Chinese food?” Brittany asked, clearly disappointed.
“Thought we’d change things up,” Mark said with a grin.
As they sat down, I clapped my hands. “Oh, by the way! We have to step out for a bit. Hope you guys don’t mind watching the house for us!”
Mark grabbed his coat. “Yeah, make yourselves comfortable. Oh, and keep an eye on the neighbor’s dog. He’s a bit wild.”
“Wait, what? You’re… leaving?” Brittany stammered.
“Oh, don’t worry! We’ll be back… eventually.” I winked.
As if on cue, our neighbor’s large, energetic puppy came bounding into the room, knocking over a chair.
“That dog,” Mark said.
By the time we returned three hours later, Tyler and Brittany were exhausted. The puppy had knocked over a plant, gotten into the trash, and generally caused chaos.
Tyler rubbed his temples. “Wow, that was… something.”
Mark chuckled. “A little overwhelming when someone dumps responsibilities on you, isn’t it?”
Brittany sighed. “Okay, okay. We get it. We should have asked before leaving the kids with you.”
“Lesson learned?” I asked sweetly.
“Lesson learned,” Tyler mumbled.
“Good,” I said, smiling. “Now, who wants some dessert? I made pecan pie.”
As we finally ate together, laughter slowly returned to the conversation. By the time they left, Brittany hugged me. “I’m sorry we took advantage of you. We won’t do it again.”
“I know you won’t,” I replied. “Next time, just ask.”
As we waved goodbye, Mark put an arm around me. “Mission accomplished?”
I leaned into him with a satisfied grin. “Mission accomplished.”
