My Kids Listed My House on Airbnb While I Was in the Hospital — I Found a Way to Teach Them a Lesson
Mariah had been feeling less than healthy lately, causing her to admit herself into the hospital so that she could have a check-up. But in her absence, her children decided to rent out her house as an Airbnb, ready to pocket the money for themselves. When Mariah found out, she decided to teach her children a lesson.
“Mariah,” my friend Liz said on the phone, “why on earth is your house listed as an Airbnb?”
A phone opened to an Airbnb app | Source: Pexels
“What?” I asked, completely confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Denise was looking for a house to rent for the weekend because it’s her bachelorette weekend, and she came across your house. Aren’t you still in the hospital?” she asked.
A group of women | Source: Midjourney
“Liz, I truly have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, looking at the IV drip away into my bloodstream. “Send me the link to the site Denise saw.”
This is how I taught my children a valuable lesson:
Recently, my blood pressure had been all over the place, causing me to faint at odd moments.
A close-up of an IV | Source: Midjourney
“Mom,” my son, Liam, said, “you need to get it checked out. There’s no point in going to the pharmacy and getting medication over the counter just because you think it’s going to help. You need to get everything assessed properly.”
“And you need to start eating better,” Leah, my daughter, said. “Having oats in the morning, toast during the day, and soup at night isn’t a balanced diet. You’re playing with your health. It’s time to take things seriously.”
A counter at a pharmacy | Source: Midjourney
Leah moved around my kitchen, slicing vegetables to make a salad to go along with the grilled chicken she had been marinating.
“And what about your constant headaches? It’s time to get everything checked out. You should go into the hospital and do a full check-up,” Liam said.
A plate of grilled chicken and salad | Source: Midjourney
“But I feel fine, other than the headaches and dizziness; I’m good!” I retorted.
Both my kids snorted and rolled their eyes at me.
“Do it, Mom,” Leah said, pointing her finger at me.
A young woman pointing and smiling | Source: Midjourney
I had to agree with them. I had been downplaying my health lately. I still walked every second day and did as much yoga as my body would allow during the week.
But still, there was a nagging feeling that something could be wrong.
Women at a yoga class | Source: Midjourney
“Just go to silence that feeling,” Liz said when we met for smoothies after our yoga class one day.
“But what if we find something?” I asked, suddenly nervous to be speaking my thoughts out loud.
“Then, we’ll deal with it together. I know that Paul isn’t here anymore, but I’m here,” Liz said. “And anyway, we need you up and running for Denise’s wedding. I don’t know how to do the mother-of-the-bride things.”
A close-up of smoothies | Source: Midjourney
“I’ll go to the GP and take it from there,” I said. “If he thinks that it’s the way to go, then I’ll do just that.”
“Yes, Mariah,” the doctor said. “I think it’s a great idea for you to go for a full-body check-up. There’s nothing wrong with just knowing your health and body. And I’ll recommend a CT scan for your headaches, too.”
A doctor putting on gloves | Source: Pexels
Which is how I ended up at the hospital, and how my children chose to take advantage of the situation.
“I’ll bring your lunch soon,” the nurse said, smiling at me. “You just rest after your CT scan.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I’m just going to call my best friend and catch up with her.”
A smiling nurse holding a clipboard | Source: Midjourney
Catching up with Liz meant that hearing that my children had let my house out as an Airbnb for the week that I was scheduled to be in the hospital.
“So, what are you going to do about it?” Liz asked me when I called her back after I confirmed that it was my house on the site.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I want to teach them a lesson. Leah and Liam should have known better. But Leah and her husband are always looking for ways to make extra money. I’m sure that Andrew has a gambling problem, too.”
“Tell me what you want me to do,” Liz said, chewing something into my ear.
A couple playing poker | Source: Pexels
“I want you to tell Denise to book it,” I said. “But they’ll recognize that it’s her, so she’s probably going to need to create a new account. Do you think she’ll be okay with that?”
“Of course, she will!” Liz said. “Anything for you. But then what?”
“I’m getting discharged tomorrow,” I said. “But the kids think that I’ll be here until the end of the week. So, let them think that they’re going to make some money off the place.”
A close-up of a woman’s IV and hospital band | Source: Midjourney
“You want Denise to rent the place, but you want to mess it up?” Liz chuckled. “That’s devious.”
“No, my children are devious,” I said.
I hung up the call, and the nurse brought my lunch to me, ready to leave me alone to eat while she did her rounds.
A tray of hospital food | Source: Midjourney
If I was being honest, I didn’t know how I felt about my children’s betrayal. But it hurt me to imagine that while I had been away at the hospital, my children were perfectly fine with having strangers take over my home.
“What were they thinking?” I asked myself.
They hadn’t given a second thought to people using the mugs I had hand-painted, or people sitting in their father’s worn armchair. Paul has been deceased for a few years now, but it still felt like his chair.
An armchair in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“No,” I said to myself. “I’m going to get back at these kids.”
The next morning, I was discharged with a clean bill of health, despite warnings to keep my stress down.
“And keep an eye on your cholesterol, Mariah,” my doctor said. “Eat lots of green leafy vegetables.”
Leafy vegetables on a countertop | Source: Midjourney
I drove myself to Liz’s house, where I was going to wait for Denise to meet me with the keys to my house.
“Are you sure about this?” Liz asked, making me a cup of tea and buttering a lemon and poppy seed muffin.
“Yes,” I said. “And this way, they’ll truly have to feel accountable for their actions.”
A cup of tea with a muffin | Source: Midjourney
I went home a few hours later. There was something different about the house. The smell was different, and I knew for sure that someone else had been staying there.
There was a sweet perfume scent that took over my usual woody-scented house.
I had a long shower, ready to wash away the scent of the hospital that clung to my skin. I was ready for a long sleep in my own bed.
A comfortable bed | Source: Midjourney
For tomorrow, the fun began.
The next morning, I made myself some breakfast and dutifully took the array of vitamins and supplements that the doctor had given me.
Then, I began to pack away all of my appliances.
Appliances in the trunk of a car | Source: Midjourney
“Where are you going to put everything?” Liz asked me when she came over.
“I’m going to put some into the trunk of my car, and we can hide the rest in the garage for now,” I said.
Together, Liz and I emptied out the house, leaving only the old toaster behind.
“Come on,” Liz said, linking her arm in mine. “Let’s get you out of here.”
An old toaster in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
I waited until Friday, staying with Liz. And then I drove myself home that afternoon.
“Hi Mom!” Leah said excitedly when she saw me pull into the driveway.
“Hi, honey,” I said, taking out my bag from the backseat.
We walked into the house, and there were entirely new appliances all over my kitchen.
A kitchen with new appliances | Source: Midjourney
“What’s all this?” I asked, pretending to be shocked.
“Liam and I thought that you deserved new things!” Leah said, looking at the floor as she spoke.
“No, you didn’t,” I said. “You came back to my home when your guest was supposed to check out and you found everything gone.”
Leah stared at me with her mouth open.
A shocked young woman | Source: Midjourney
“You know?” she said.
“Of course, I do!” I exclaimed. “I took everything! You needed to be taught a lesson. Why would you let my house out?”
Leah blinked slowly.
“Mom,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry. Andrew and I thought that it would be a good idea because it seemed like a great opportunity to make some extra money. Liam said that it was okay as long as nothing was broken.”
A close-up of a young woman | Source: Midjourney
“Darling,” I said, hugging her. “You can’t do this. If you and Andrew need money, you come and talk to me about it. Don’t do things like this. It’s going to ruin our trust.”
My daughter smiled and took my bag from me.
“Come,” she said. “I’ll make you some tea with the new kettle. I’ll return everything else tomorrow. And the money is all yours.”
A fancy kettle on a countertop | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
On a Trip with His Foster Family, Teenage Boy Runs Away to Find His Real Family after Spotting an Old Sign — Story of the Day
Sixteen-year-old Eric slips away from his foster family on a camping trip, desperate to find his real mother and the answers he’s always craved. But as he faces hard truths about the past and what family truly means, Eric’s journey takes a turn he never saw coming.
The Johnson family drove along the winding road, the car filled with excited chatter and Mila’s occasional giggles as she wiggled in her booster seat, her eyes wide with excitement.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Mr. Johnson glanced in the rearview mirror, catching Eric’s gaze and offering a warm smile. Eric tried to smile back, but he couldn’t shake the knot of worry in his chest.
He was almost sixteen now, and he understood his place in the family—or at least, he thought he did. The Johnsons had taken him in as their foster child when he was twelve. They’d told him he was family, even though he wasn’t their own child by blood.
For years, they’d treated him with a kindness he’d never known before, showing him what it felt like to be truly cared for. But now, with Mila—their own child—things felt different. Eric wondered if they’d still want him, now that they had a child of their own.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“We’ll stop here at the gas station; you can stretch your legs,” Mr. Johnson said, turning off the engine as they pulled over. Eric felt the cool air hit his face as he stepped out, and he lifted little Mila from her seat, setting her down gently. She clung to his hand, her tiny fingers gripping his tightly as she looked around with curiosity.
Eric’s gaze, however, was drawn to the other side of the road, where an old, weathered diner sign hung, faded and cracked. A strange feeling stirred in his chest as he looked at it, an odd sense of familiarity that he couldn’t place. He reached into his backpack, pulling out a worn photograph—the only thing left from his past, from his real parents.
In the photo, baby Eric stood beside a woman, his biological mother, with a sign in the background just like the one in the gas station.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Mrs. Johnson walked over, noticing Eric staring at something in his hand. “Everything alright?” she asked gently, her voice filled with warmth.
Eric quickly slipped the photo into his pocket, forcing a small smile. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” he replied, trying to sound casual.
Mr. Johnson called from the car, “Alright, family! Time to hit the road again.”
Eric took one last glance at the diner sign before getting back in the car with Mila and Mrs. Johnson.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Within an hour, they arrived at the campsite, a quiet, wooded area surrounded by tall trees and the sound of rustling leaves. Eric helped Mr. Johnson set up the tents, quietly going through the motions, his mind still on the photo.
After dinner by the campfire, Mrs. Johnson and Mila headed to bed. Mr. Johnson looked over at Eric. “Are you going to bed now?”
Eric shook his head. “I’ll stay up a bit longer.”
Mr. Johnson nodded. “Don’t stay up too late. Big hike tomorrow. You sure you’re okay, kiddo?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Eric forced a smile. “Yeah, just not tired yet.”
“Alright,” Mr. Johnson said, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before heading to bed.
Eric sat by the campfire, watching the last embers flicker, his thoughts drifting back to the photo he’d tucked away. He pulled it out once more, studying the faded image in the dim light.
Written neatly on the back were the words “Eliza and Eric.” The woman holding him had a faint smile, but he couldn’t remember her at all. Glancing over at the Johnsons’ tent, he felt a pang of guilt. They had always been kind, always treated him with care.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
With a sigh, he slipped the photo into his pocket, went to his tent, and picked up his backpack. He checked through its contents—his few belongings, a bottle of water, and the sandwiches Mrs. Johnson had made for him.
She’d even cut the crusts off, remembering how he didn’t like them, just as she had when he first arrived at their home. Small acts like this made him feel seen, but still, he wondered if he truly belonged.
Taking one last look at the campsite, Eric turned and walked down the path toward the main road, the cold air biting at his cheeks.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
It was pitch dark, and he switched on the flashlight on his phone, remembering how the Johnsons had handed it to him with a smile. “We need to know our kid is safe,” they’d said. If they really thought of him as their own, wouldn’t they have adopted him by now?
He walked along the road, shivering in the night air, his heart pounding with each step. After hours, he finally saw the dim lights of the diner.
Taking a shaky breath, he stepped inside, eyes adjusting to the gloomy interior. At the counter stood an old man, who looked at him with a frown as Eric approached, photo in hand.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The old man behind the counter narrowed his eyes at Eric. “We don’t serve kids here.”
“I don’t want anything to eat. I just have a question.” He pulled the photo from his pocket, unfolding it carefully. “Do you know this woman?”
The man took the photo, peering at it with a frown. “What’s her name?”
“Eliza,” Eric replied, hoping for a sign of recognition.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The man’s face shifted slightly, and he tilted his head toward a noisy group in the corner. “That’s her over there.” He handed back the photo, shaking his head. “She looked different back then. Life’s taken a toll.”
Eric’s heart pounded as he approached the table. He recognized the woman from the photo—older now, worn down, but definitely her. He cleared his throat. “Eliza, hi,” he said.
She didn’t respond, absorbed in her loud conversation.
Eric tried again, louder this time. “Eliza.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She turned, finally noticing him. “What do you want, kid?”
“I…I’m your son,” Eric said quietly.
“I don’t have any kids.”
Desperate, he held up the photo again. “It’s me. See? Eliza and Eric,” he said.
“Thought I got rid of you,” she muttered, taking a long drink from a bottle.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Eric’s voice trembled. “I just wanted to meet you.”
Eliza looked him over with a smirk. “Fine. Sit down, then. Maybe you’ll be useful.” Her friends chuckled, and Eric sank awkwardly into a chair, feeling out of place.
After some time, Eliza looked around the diner, glancing toward the counter. “Alright, time to leave. Let’s get out before the old man catches on.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The group started to stand up, gathering their things. Eric, feeling uneasy, looked at Eliza. “But you haven’t paid,” he said.
Eliza rolled her eyes. “Kid, that’s not how the world works if you want to survive. You’ll learn that,” she replied.
Eric hesitated, reaching into his backpack. He pulled out some cash, ready to leave it on the table, but before he could, Eliza snatched it from his hand and shoved it into her pocket.
As they headed toward the door, the old man behind the counter noticed. “Hey! You didn’t pay!” he shouted angrily.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Run!” Eliza shouted, dashing out the door. The group bolted, and Eric had no choice but to follow. Outside, he noticed police lights flashing nearby. As Eliza ran past him, she shoved him, and he felt something slip from his pocket.
“Mom!” he called, desperate, hoping she’d turn back.
But Eliza didn’t stop. “I told you—I don’t have any kids!” she shouted over her shoulder, disappearing into the night.
A police car pulled up beside Eric. He stopped, knowing he couldn’t outrun them. The window rolled down, and one of the officers leaned out, squinting at him.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, isn’t this the kid they mentioned?” the officer asked his partner.
The other officer looked Eric over and nodded. “Yep, that’s him. Alright, kid, get in the car.”
Eric’s heart pounded. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, his voice trembling. “I tried to pay, but she took my money. I can call my parents—they’ll come get me.”
He reached into his pocket, only to find it empty. Panic rose as he realized his phone was gone, too. Tears filled his eyes. “Please, you have to believe me. I didn’t do anything.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
One of the officers got out, placing a hand on Eric’s shoulder. “Come on, son.” Gently, he guided Eric into the backseat as Eric’s tears fell silently.
At the police station, Eric expected the worst, but instead, they led him to a small room with a warm cup of tea. Glancing up, his heart skipped when he saw the Johnsons talking with an officer nearby. Mila was in Mr. Johnson’s arms, and Mrs. Johnson looked worried, her eyes darting around the room.
The moment Mrs. Johnson spotted him, she gasped, rushing over and wrapping her arms tightly around him. “Eric! You scared us so much!” she said, her voice shaking. “We thought something terrible had happened when we saw you were gone. We called the police right away.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Mr. Johnson approached, holding Mila close. “Eric, why did you run off like that?” he asked.
Eric swallowed, looking down. “I just… I wanted parents of my own. I thought finding my mom would change things, but she… she wasn’t what I thought,” he admitted.
Mrs. Johnson’s face softened as she squeezed his hand. “Eric, it hurts to hear that,” she said gently. “We consider ourselves your parents.”
Mr. Johnson nodded. “We’re sorry if we didn’t make that clear.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Eric looked at them. “I thought… maybe you’d want to get rid of me now that you have Mila,” he confessed.
Mrs. Johnson pulled him into another hug, her arms warm and steady. “Parents don’t give up on their children, Eric.”
“You’re as much our child as Mila is,” Mr. Johnson added. “That’s never going to change.”
Eric’s tears fell, his heart finally feeling the love they’d always given. “This whole trip was actually for you,” Mr. Johnson explained. “You wanted to go camping, so we made it a special occasion.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“A special occasion?” Eric asked, wiping his eyes.
“To tell you that we want you to officially be our son,” Mr. Johnson said with a smile.
“All the paperwork is ready, but only if you want it,” Mrs. Johnson added, her voice soft. Eric didn’t need to answer in words; he hugged them both, realizing he had found his real family.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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