My Brother Makes Our Grandma Do Everything around the House — When I Saw Her Washing the Floors I Taught Him a Lesson

My Brother Makes Our Grandma Do Everything around the House — When I Saw Her Washing the Floors I Taught Him a Lesson

When Mike’s careless attitude toward his elderly grandmother reaches a boiling point, his sister devises a cunning plan to teach him a lesson. What starts as a simple party quickly unravels, exposing family tensions and leaving Mike humiliated in front of friends and family.

Hi! My name’s Mia, and here’s my story. My grandma moved into my brother’s house a few months ago after hers was sold. She needed money for medical bills, and living with him seemed like a great idea. She never complained about it, and I thought they were having a great time until I came to visit…

Mia cooks as her grandmother does the dishes | Source: Midjourney

Mia cooks as her grandmother does the dishes | Source: Midjourney

During my first week there, I saw my grandma cook, clean, do laundry, and tend to the yard day after day. Not once did my brother lift a finger to help. Despite Granny’s back problems, he told her to do more and more with this bored, entitled tone.

“Granny, can you iron my shirts?” he would call out from the living room.

“Sure, dear,” she would reply, forcing a smile.

Grandmother mowes the lawn | Source: Midjourney

Grandmother mowes the lawn | Source: Midjourney

“Granny, the yard needs mowing,” he would say while playing video games.

“Of course, I’ll get to it,” she would answer, wincing as she stood up.

One afternoon, I found her mopping the floors. Her hands were red and dry, with knuckles sticking through pale skin. She moved slowly, pain evident in every step. That’s when I broke down and decided I couldn’t stay quiet any longer.

Mia confronts her grandma | Source: Midjourney

Mia confronts her grandma | Source: Midjourney

“Grandma, why are you doing all this?” I asked, my voice trembling with anger. “You should be resting!”

She looked up, tired eyes meeting mine. “He needs help, dear. He’s busy with work.”

“Busy?!” I exploded. “He’s playing video games all day! This is not fair!”

Grandma sighed. “I don’t mind. It’s just a little work.”

Mike plays video games | Source: Midjourney

Mike plays video games | Source: Midjourney

But it wasn’t just a little work. It was too much for anyone, let alone an elderly woman with health issues. I knew I had to do something. I decided to organize a party, but not just any party. This would be a party with a twist.

The relationship between my brother and me had always been complicated. Growing up, Mike was the golden child, the one who could do no wrong.

Mike as a child | Source: Midjourney

Mike as a child | Source: Midjourney

He was a star athlete in high school, always surrounded by friends and admiration. I, on the other hand, was the quiet, bookish one. I didn’t mind staying out of the spotlight, but it did create a rift between us.

Our parents adored Mike and doted on him, often overlooking his flaws. They saw him as ambitious and driven, while I was seen as the responsible one.

I expected him to help out more around the house. This dynamic followed us into adulthood. When Grandma moved in, I hoped Mike would finally step up and take responsibility.

Mike laughs it off | Source: Midjourney

Mike laughs it off | Source: Midjourney

“Mike, can you at least help Grandma with the groceries?” I had asked one day when I called to check in.

He had laughed. “She’s fine, sis. She likes to stay busy.”

“She’s not a maid,” I had snapped back, frustration boiling over.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he had replied dismissively.

The struggling grandma | Source: Midjourney

The struggling grandma | Source: Midjourney

Seeing Grandma now, struggling and in pain, I felt a mix of anger and sadness. Mike had always been self-centered, but this was a new low. I couldn’t stand by and watch any longer.

One evening, I sat down with Grandma after dinner. “Granny, you need to rest. You can’t keep doing all this.”

She patted my hand. “I’ll be fine, sweetie. I’ve handled worse.”

Mia talks to her grandma | Source: Midjourney

Mia talks to her grandma | Source: Midjourney

“But you shouldn’t have to,” I insisted. “Mike needs to learn to help out. This isn’t fair to you.”

She sighed, looking weary. “He’s just used to it. He’s always been like this.”

I shook my head. “That doesn’t make it right.”

As I thought about what to do, an idea formed in my mind. It was bold, maybe even a bit risky, but I knew it had to be done. Mike needed a wake-up call, and I was just the person to give it to him. He couldn’t keep getting away with treating Grandma like this. It was time for a change.

Mia has an idea | Source: Midjourney

Mia has an idea | Source: Midjourney

The plan started to take shape in my mind. I would organize a surprise for Mike, something that would make him see just how much work Grandma was doing. He needed to understand the weight of responsibility and the value of family. And I was determined to make sure he learned his lesson.

On her last day of staying there, I asked my brother Mike for a small party. He agreed, thinking it would be a good way to see old friends.

The party was planned for the evening before I left. Our high school friends, his football team, and even some nostalgic teachers were invited for a BBQ and a celebration.

Party invitation | Source: Midjourney

Party invitation | Source: Midjourney

As the time when everyone was supposed to arrive approached, I got busy with my plan. I yanked all of Mike’s clothes into the laundry bin and dirtied them with ketchup and dirt. He wouldn’t have anything clean to wear.

Next, I put clean dishes in the sink and covered them with soap and ketchup. I made sure to mess up everything Grandma had been doing for him all this time.

Mike was lounging on the couch, oblivious. “Hey, sis, can you get me a beer?” he called out.

Mia dirties the dishes | Source: Midjourney

Mia dirties the dishes | Source: Midjourney

I rolled my eyes. “Sure, Mike,” I said sweetly. I handed him the beer, knowing chaos was about to unfold.

As the first guests started to arrive, Mike finally noticed the mess. “What the heck happened here?” he muttered, looking around the kitchen. “Grandma, did you forget to clean up?”

Grandma, who was resting in the living room, looked confused. “I’m sorry, dear. I must have missed it.”

Mike sees his dirty laundry | Source: Midjourney

Mike sees his dirty laundry | Source: Midjourney

Mike huffed and went to the laundry room. He opened the bin and saw his clothes stained and dirty. “Seriously?” he grumbled. “I have nothing to wear!”

He stormed back into the kitchen, where I was setting out snacks. “What’s going on, sis? Why is everything a mess?” he demanded.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, Mike. Maybe you should ask Grandma.”

Mike tries to tidy up his house | Source: Midjourney

Mike tries to tidy up his house | Source: Midjourney

He groaned and grabbed a dirty shirt from the bin, reluctantly putting it on. Guests started coming in, and Mike was running around in his stained clothes, trying to clean up.

“Ugh, my grandma was supposed to clean this already,” he muttered to his friend, Tom. “Because of her, I have nothing to wear!”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Dude, you’re thirty. Are you serious?” he asked, laughing.

High school friends laughing at Mike | Source: Midjourney

High school friends laughing at Mike | Source: Midjourney

Another friend, Jake, smirked. “Yeah, man. Do your own laundry. What’s wrong with you?”

Mike ignored them and kept trying to clean up. Grandma, despite her exhaustion, got up to help him. “I’m sorry, Mike. I can help now,” she said, grabbing a mop.

“You should have done this earlier, Grandma. Now everything’s ruined.”

Sad grandmother looks down | Source: Midjourney

Sad grandmother looks down | Source: Midjourney

The room fell silent as everyone watched the scene unfold. Mike’s angry speech echoed in the quiet house. “Why can’t you just do your job, Grandma?” he shouted.

People looked at him in disbelief. One of the old teachers, Mr. Parker, shook his head. “Mike, you should be ashamed. She’s your grandmother, not your maid.”

Mike’s face turned red. He looked around at the judgmental faces of his friends and family. Humiliated, he stomped upstairs and locked himself in his room.

Mad Mike | Source: Midjourney

Mad Mike | Source: Midjourney

I turned to Grandma, who looked upset. “Don’t worry, Grandma. Let’s enjoy the night,” I said, giving her a hug.

The guests slowly resumed their conversations, the awkwardness fading away. We enjoyed the BBQ, shared stories, and had a good time. Grandma finally relaxed and laughed with her old friends.

Family enjoying a barbecue | Source: Pexels

Family enjoying a barbecue | Source: Pexels

As the evening went on, I felt a sense of satisfaction. Mike needed to understand what Grandma had been going through. Hopefully, this would be a wake-up call for him to change his ways.

Grandma smiled at me. “Thank you, dear,” she said softly. “I hope he learns from this.”

Mia hugs her grandmother | Source: Midjourney

Mia hugs her grandmother | Source: Midjourney

“I think he will,” I replied, looking up at the darkened window where Mike had retreated. “He has to.”

A 6-Year-Old Boy in a Shelter Noticed a Poor Teenage Girl Watching Him Through the Fence Every Day

Every day at the shelter, six-year-old Mike, who didn’t know his parents had died, waited for them to come back. One day, he noticed a poor teenage girl standing outside the fence, silently watching him. He didn’t know it yet, but she wasn’t just watching him — she was WAITING for him.

Mike was only four when his life had shattered in ways no child should ever experience. He had spent that day at the neighbor’s house, playing with blocks and eating peanut butter sandwiches, completely unaware that it would be the last normal day of his life.

When the crash happened, he wasn’t there to hear the screech of tires or the crumpling of metal. He didn’t see the flashing red and blue lights that lit up the dark street. He didn’t feel the weight of the world shifting beneath him when his parents were declared dead.

A sad little boy holding an elephant plushie | Source: Midjourney

A sad little boy holding an elephant plushie | Source: Midjourney

All he knew was that later that night, the neighbor — a kind but visibly shaken woman — took his small hand and said, “You’ll be staying with me tonight, okay, sweetheart?”

He’d nodded, clutching his stuffed elephant, Jumbo. “Where are Mommy and Daddy?”

“They’ll be back soon,” she’d whispered, her voice trembling as she offered a silent apology he’d never hear.

“But I want them now,” Mike’s lower lip quivered. “They always tuck me in. Daddy does the funny voices for my bedtime story.”

The neighbor pulled him close, her tears threatening to fall. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

A woman embracing a heartbroken little boy | Source: Unsplash

A woman embracing a heartbroken little boy | Source: Unsplash

“Can you call them?” Mike asked, his small fingers gripping his elephant tighter.

The neighbor’s breath caught in her throat. “Not tonight, honey. How about I read you a story instead?”

“No. I want Mommy and Daddy to come back for me,” Mike sobbed, his eager eyes glued to the front gate, as if willing them to appear.

But they didn’t come back. Not that night, not the next day… not ever.

Mike didn’t remember much from the days that followed, except that the neighbor’s house felt cold and strange. People he didn’t know came and went, speaking in hushed tones and avoiding his wide, questioning eyes. And then, one day, a lady with soft brown curls and a kind smile arrived. Her name was Brenda, and she was the one who took him to the shelter.

A little boy standing outside a shelter | Source: Midjourney

A little boy standing outside a shelter | Source: Midjourney

Time fluttered by like leaves on the breeze, but Mike’s hope of seeing his parents again never dwindled.

“Will my Mommy and Daddy really come for me?” he asked again, the same question he’d been asking Brenda every day for the past two years.

Mike’s big blue eyes stared up at her with so much hope that it made her chest tighten. She knelt down to meet his gaze, smoothing back a lock of his golden brown hair.

“I really believe they will,” she said softly, even though the truth clawed at the back of her throat.

Mike’s face lit up with a grin. “I believe it too!” he chirped, then bolted across the yard to join the other kids playing ball.

“Wait!” he suddenly stopped and ran back to her. “What if they come while I’m playing? What if they can’t find me?”

A desperate little boy looking up at someone | Source: Midjourney

A desperate little boy looking up at someone | Source: Midjourney

Brenda’s heart shattered. “Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll make sure they find you.”

“Promise?” His small hand reached for hers.

“I promise,” she whispered, squeezing his hand gently. “Now go play.”

Brenda stood there for a moment, swallowing hard. She hated this part of her job. Watching these kids cling to hope that would never be fulfilled — it broke her in ways she couldn’t even explain. But what else could she do? Tell him the truth that his parents would never come? No. He was too young.

A sad woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

Mike adjusted quickly to life at the shelter. He laughed, played, and made friends easily. But at night, when the other kids fell asleep, he’d sit by the window clutching his stuffed elephant, his small face pressed against the glass.

“Mommy, Daddy,” he’d whisper, as if they could somehow hear him. “When are you coming to take me home? I miss you.”

One particularly difficult night, his whispers turned to quiet sobs. “I’ll be really good, I promise. I won’t ask for any toys or candy. Please come back.”

Brenda tucked him back into bed, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She sat beside him, stroking his hair until he drifted off, all the while wishing she could give him the comfort he so desperately needed.

A distressed little boy lying in bed with his plushie | Source: Midjourney

A distressed little boy lying in bed with his plushie | Source: Midjourney

“Miss Brenda?” he mumbled sleepily.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Do you think they forgot about me?”

Her hand froze mid-stroke. “Oh, Mike… No one could ever forget you.”

“Then why haven’t they come?” His voice was so small and broken.

Brenda gathered him in her arms, rocking him gently. “Sometimes, everything happens for a reason we can’t understand. But that doesn’t mean you’re not loved.”

Close-up shot of a woman holding a little boy's hand | Source: Pixabay

Close-up shot of a woman holding a little boy’s hand | Source: Pixabay

By the time Mike turned six, he had become a bit of a bright spot at the shelter. He had a way of lifting everyone’s spirits, from the kids to the staff. But no one missed the way his smile faltered when the older kids were picked up by foster families or adopted.

“Do you think my parents will come today?” he’d ask Brenda, his voice full of the same innocent hope. And she’d answer the same way every time: “I really believe they will.”

Days passed. One warm spring afternoon, Mike noticed her for the first time. He was in the middle of kicking a ball around with a group of kids when something made him look toward the fence. There she was — a teenage girl, around 16, standing just outside the chain-link barrier.

A teenage girl standing near a fence | Source: Midjourney

A teenage girl standing near a fence | Source: Midjourney

She wasn’t like the other adults who sometimes stopped to watch. She didn’t have that pitying look people got when they saw the kids in the yard. She just… stared at Mike. Quiet. Focused.

Her clothes were old and tattered, her hair messy and unkempt. But her eyes — they were dark and intense, locked on Mike like she knew him. He stopped kicking the ball. For a moment, the world around him seemed to fade as he stared back at her.

“Mike!” one of the kids yelled, breaking his focus. “Come on, we’re losing!”

“Who is she?” Mike whispered to himself, unable to look away.

He shook his head, snapped out of the moment, and went back to playing. But when he glanced back at the fence, she was still there.

A curious boy staring at someone | Source: Midjourney

A curious boy staring at someone | Source: Midjourney

The girl became a constant visitor. Every afternoon, like clockwork, she’d show up at the same spot outside the fence, watching Mike as he played. She never said a word, never tried to approach him. She just stood there.

One day, another child noticed her too. “Mike, that girl keeps looking at you. Do you know her?”

The question hit him like a punch to the gut. “No,” he said, but he wasn’t entirely sure.

Mike never told anyone about her. A part of him was curious, but another part was scared to find out who she was and why she was there.

Eventually, Mike was placed with the Smiths. They were a kind middle-aged couple who didn’t have kids of their own. They did their best to make him feel at home, decorating his new room with posters of superheroes and giving him a soccer ball to play with in the backyard.

A kind couple hugging a little boy | Source: Pexels

A kind couple hugging a little boy | Source: Pexels

“Do you like your room, Mike?” Mrs. Smith asked nervously on his first night.

He nodded, clutching his stuffed elephant. “It’s nice. Thank you.”

“We can change anything you don’t like,” Mr. Smith added quickly. “We want you to feel at home here.”

Mike’s eyes welled up unexpectedly. “Can I… can I keep my elephant?”

Mrs. Smith rushed to his side. “Oh, sweetheart, of course you can! This is your home now, and everything in it is yours.”

At first, Mike was shy around them, but over time, he opened up. He started calling them “Mom” and “Dad,” though a part of him still clung to the memories of his real parents.

A heartbroken boy looking outside the window | Source: Midjourney

A heartbroken boy looking outside the window | Source: Midjourney

One day, during a quiet moment with Mrs. Smith, Mike (now 8 years old), asked the question he had avoided for years.

“Did my parents really die?”

Her face softened as she pulled him into her lap. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

“I kept waiting,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Every single day at the shelter, I waited. I overheard you talking to Dad… about the car crash. Why didn’t anyone tell me the truth?”

“Oh, Mike…” Mrs. Smith held him tighter.

Mike buried his face in her shoulder, sobbing quietly. It was the first time he truly understood what had happened, and the weight of it crushed him.

A boy crying | Source: Pexels

A boy crying | Source: Pexels

For the next two years, Mike found stability with the Smiths. But no matter how good they were to him, there was always a part of him that felt incomplete.

Mike was ten when he returned to the shelter for the first time since leaving. The Smiths had told him they wanted to donate some of his old clothes and toys, and he’d insisted on coming along.

Walking through the front doors brought back a flood of memories. The smell of the place, the sound of kids laughing in the yard — it was all so familiar.

“Mike?” a familiar voice called out. “Is that really you?”

Miss Brenda greeted him with a warm smile, pulling him into a tight hug. “You’ve grown so much, young man!” she said, brushing a tear from her cheek.

A boy in the corridor | Source: Midjourney

A boy in the corridor | Source: Midjourney

“Miss Brenda!” Mike hugged her back fiercely. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart. Are you happy? The Smiths are treating you well?”

Mike nodded enthusiastically. “They’re really nice. But…” he hesitated. “I still think about before. About my parents.”

Brenda’s eyes softened with understanding. “That’s okay, Mike. That’s perfectly normal.”

As they caught up, one of the staff members poked her head into the room. “Brenda, can you come here for a second?”

Brenda glanced at Mike. “Wait here, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

A woman looking at someone and smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at someone and smiling | Source: Midjourney

Mike wandered the room, looking at the photos on the walls. Then, the door opened, and Brenda stepped back in.

“Mike, there’s someone here to see you,” she said gently.

He frowned. “Who?”

When the door opened wider, his heart stopped.

There she was. The same girl from the fence.

She looked different now — older, taller, and more vibrant. Her hair was clean, her clothes neat and well-fitted. But her eyes were the same, dark and intense, locked on him like they had been all those years ago.

A young woman smiling at someone | Source: Midjourney

A young woman smiling at someone | Source: Midjourney

“Who are you?” Mike asked.

The girl stepped forward, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. “My name is Angela,” she said softly. “I… I’m your sister.”

Mike’s eyes widened. “What?” He stumbled backward slightly. “No, that’s… that’s not possible.”

Angela took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Your father… he was my father too. From his first marriage.”

“Stop,” Mike whispered, shaking his head. “You’re lying. Why are you lying?”

“I’m not lying, Mike,” Angela’s voice cracked. “I’ve been watching over you for years. You were always playing with that stuffed elephant. You used to wear a blue t-shirt almost every day. You taught the younger kids how to play soccer.”

Mike’s heart raced as he tried to make sense of her words. “But… I never knew I had a sister.”

A shocked boy | Source: Midjourney

A shocked boy | Source: Midjourney

“You didn’t,” Angela said, her voice breaking. “Your father left me and my mom when I was ten. He never told you about us. We had nothing after he left… no money, no home. My mom died a few years ago. And after that, I was on my own.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “One day, I saw Dad with you and your mom. I followed you, and that’s how I found out you were my little brother. After the accident… after they died, I found out you were here. I watched you every day, Mike. I wanted to come for you, but I had nothing to give you. I wasn’t ready.”

“All those days at the fence…” Mike’s voice trembled. “That was you?”

Angela nodded, wiping away tears. “I couldn’t leave you alone. I couldn’t.”

An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney

An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney

Mike’s chest felt tight as he listened, his hands clenching at his sides. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I was scared,” Angela admitted. “But I made a promise to myself that I’d work hard, get a job, and save enough to take care of you. I’ve been working as a waitress, saving every penny I could. And now… I’m here to take you home.”

Mike stared at her, his emotions swirling. “I thought I was alone. When I found out my parents were gone, I thought I didn’t have anyone.”

“You were never alone,” Angela choked out. “Every day, every single day, I was there. Watching. Waiting. Hoping I could be good enough for you.”

Mike took a step forward, then another. “You… you really want me?”

“More than anything in the world,” Angela sobbed. “You’re my little brother, Mike. You’re my family.”

A boy overwhelmed with emotions | Source: Midjourney

A boy overwhelmed with emotions | Source: Midjourney

Mike burst into tears and ran into her arms. Angela pulled him into a hug, both of them crying as years of grief and loneliness poured out of them.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered into his hair. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”

“You’re here now,” Mike mumbled against her shoulder. “You’re here now.”

Angela got custody of Mike a few months later. The process wasn’t easy, but she somehow convinced the Smiths and fought for Mike’s custody with everything she had.

Grayscale shot of a woman walking with a boy on a rainy day | Source: Pexels

Grayscale shot of a woman walking with a boy on a rainy day | Source: Pexels

The first night in their small and cozy apartment, Mike looked around at the modest space adorned with a worn couch, a small kitchen, and a secondhand bed. He smiled.

“It’s perfect,” he said.

“Are you sure?” Angela asked nervously. “It’s not much. Nothing like what the Smiths could give you…”

Mike turned to her, his eyes serious. “But it’s ours, right?”

“Yes,” Angela’s voice cracked. “It’s ours.”

She sat beside him, brushing his hair back. “We don’t have much, but we have each other. That’s enough, right?”

Mike nodded, clutching his stuffed elephant — the last reminder of his old life. “It’s more than enough.”

A boy clutching an elephant plushie | Source: Midjourney

A boy clutching an elephant plushie | Source: Midjourney

“I promise you, Mike,” Angela whispered, pulling him close. “From now on, you’ll never have to wonder if someone’s coming back for you. I’m here. And I’m staying. Always.”

Mike snuggled into her side, finally feeling complete. “I know,” he said softly. “I can feel it.”

That night, for the first time in years, Mike didn’t sit by the window waiting for someone to come. He didn’t need to anymore. His family was already there. Beside him.

Night view of a cottage window from a breathtaking garden | Source: Midjourney

Night view of a cottage window from a breathtaking garden | Source: Midjourney

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