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.”

My Cousin Deliberately Made My Wedding Dress Two Sizes Too Small – She Was Astonished When She Saw How I Handled It

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. I was surrounded by the people who loved me, and even more, my cousin wanted to do something so intimate by making me a wedding dress.

Everything felt right.

We spent weeks choosing the design and fabrics. We pored over the magazines and websites, and finally, I had an idea in mind.

One day, I met Sarah at her office, ready to take my final measurements so that she could start with my dress.

“You’re going to look amazing,” she said, taking my measurements precisely, jotting down everything carefully on her writing pad.

“Oh, I hope so,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee as Sarah put her measuring tape away. “I’ve been on a strict diet, and I’m finally happy with my weight. So, it’s just about maintaining my figure now.”

“You look good, Jess,” she said. “But if anything changes and you find yourself losing or gaining weight, just let me know, and you can come in for another fitting.”

I nodded and left, eager to see how my dress was going to turn out.

But when I went for the final fitting, things took a turn.

I slipped into the dress, but something was wrong—it was way too small. I couldn’t even zip it up, no matter how hard I sucked in my breath.

“Jess! Are you crazy to gain weight before the wedding?” Sarah asked, her tone dripping with mock concern.

My heart sank. We were two weeks away from the wedding, and judging from this fitting, I didn’t have a dress.

“I haven’t gained any weight, Sarah,” I replied. “I’ve been too stressed to eat. If anything, I should have lost weight because of that!”

Sarah shrugged, barely concealing a smirk that was plastered onto her face.

“Well, I’ll try to fix it, but with the wedding so close, I can’t make any promises. I have other clients waiting for their orders, too, Jess.”

Her words rang loud and clear in my head as I drove away from her office.

And then it hit me — this wasn’t an accident. I recalled the way she spoke to me, and the tone in her voice. There was no remorse in her mistake. There was no mix-up in measurements. There was no weight gain with me.

This was deliberate, and Sarah had made the dress too small on purpose.

“I don’t know what to do,” I told Michael when he got home that evening.

“Show me the dress?” he asked, pouring himself a glass of water.

“What! No!” I exclaimed. “The dress may be a mess, but it’s bad luck for you to see!”

“Look, why don’t you take the dress to Mrs. Lawson? She’s my mom’s friend, and she does all her alterations. She’s making Mom’s dress for the wedding, too.”

So, I gathered the awful dress and went to Mrs. Lawson, who was a retired seamstress with a reputation for miracles.

“Oh, honey,” she said when I walked in. “Michael phoned me and told me all about the mess. But I’ve seen the worst and made it a hundred times better.”

“This might be tricky, though,” I said, showing her the dress.

“Honey, I’ve seen it all, trust me. Let’s make this work,” she chuckled.

Together, we transformed the original design into something completely new. A chic, short, cocktail-style dress that was bold, unconventional, and a bit edgy for a wedding.

But it was absolutely stunning. It was everything Sarah’s dress wasn’t: fun, flirty, and perfectly me.

When it was time to walk down the aisle, my heart raced. I stood in the bridal suite of the wedding venue and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked beautiful. I felt beautiful.

As my dad walked into the room to get me, his jaw dropped.

“My darling,” he said. “You look incredible! Wow!”

“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “I know it’s not what we all envisioned me wearing for my wedding, but it’s been the best surprise. I feel like a bride.”

“That’s the only thing that matters, darling,” he said.

Soon, my entrance music began, and goosebumps appeared all over my body as a classical version of a Lana Del Rey song took over the room.

Heads turned.

And I felt the buzz of admiration follow me as people watched me walk in. I knew that my dress was a hit.

When I got closer to Michael, his eyes widened, and his smile took over his face. I knew then that the man I was about to marry fell in love with me all over again.

But before I took my place next to Michael, I turned to Sarah, wanting to see her expression first.

Her face was priceless: she was pale and shocked. I knew she had expected to see me in tears, humiliated by her sabotage and wearing that horrible dress she had designed.

Instead, I was glowing, smiling from ear to ear.

The ceremony went off without a hitch, Michael’s vows leaving me in tears and my heart full of love for the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

But then came the reception.

Michael and I were mingling with our guests when Sarah cornered me.

“Jess, what happened to the dress? Where’s my original design? Why did you change it?” she asked, trying to hide her confusion.

I grinned.

“Oh, I thought I’d take your design and make it better! Remember, you weren’t even sure that you could do anything about it. And I was bursting out of it because it was at least two sizes too small.”

“So, that’s it? You just threw away my hard work?” she gasped. “That’s low!”

“No, Sarah, your work is the foundation of this dress. It’s just a hundred times better because the woman who fixed it wanted me to look and feel beautiful on my wedding day.”

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Around us, guests kept complimenting my dress, calling it unique and stunning.

Sarah had no choice but to stand there and listen.

“Come on, love,” Michael called to me. “Let’s do our first dance so that I can really get into the buffet after! The roast beef is to die for!”

“I’m coming,” I smiled, finally happy.

What would you have done?

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