My entitled neighbor expected free babysitting for months, but the one time I needed her? Radio silence. That’s when I realized kindness has limits. So, I got a little too creative.

Motherhood is a beautiful journey, filled with ups and downs. But what happens when someone exploits your maternal instincts? Hi there, I’m Annie, and this is my story.

Picture a quaint suburban neighborhood, pristine lawns, and friendly waves. That was my slice of paradise—until Hurricane Megan blew in next door.

From day one, Megan strutted around like she owned the place. She wore her single mom status like a badge that entitled her to everyone’s time and energy. Apparently, I was her target for free childcare.

“Hi there! I’m Megan,” she chirped, with her daughter, Lily. “I’ve been looking for someone reliable to watch Lily. My work schedule is crazy!”

I hesitated but agreed to help in emergencies. Soon, “emergencies” turned into near-daily requests.

One day, Megan knocked, perfectly coiffed, and said, “Annie, you’re a lifesaver! I have an important meeting. Can you watch Lily?”

I hesitated. “I’ve got a lot on my plate today—”

“It’ll just be a few hours,” she interrupted, already ushering Lily inside. Before I could protest, she was gone.

Lily looked up with big eyes. “Can we play dress-up, Annie?” I sighed, forcing a smile.

Days turned into weeks of babysitting for Megan while she enjoyed spa days and shopping sprees—always for free. I loved kids, but I felt like a doormat.

The last straw came on a Tuesday during a virtual doctor’s appointment when Megan burst in, declaring an emergency. I couldn’t believe it. That night, I vented to my husband, Dan. “She assumes I’m always available.”

“You need to set boundaries,” Dan said.

I resolved to put my foot down. The opportunity came soon. When I asked Megan for a favor, she refused, saying she wasn’t comfortable watching other people’s kids.

“Sure! I understand completely,” I said, walking away, my patience snapped.

A few days later, Megan knocked again. “Annie, can you watch Lily?”

I smiled sweetly. “Actually, I’ve started a babysitting business. I’d be happy to give you a discounted rate.”

Her eyes lit up. “How much?”

“$20 an hour, but for you, $15.”

Her jaw dropped. “That’s insane! I can’t afford that!”

“I know, childcare is expensive. It’s important to find help,” I said, feigning sympathy.

As she stormed off, I felt satisfaction. I fully embraced my “business,” responding to her requests with invoices.

One day, she was late picking up Lily. I handed her an invoice, smiling. “Don’t forget the late fee!”

She erupted. “You’re nothing but a greedy witch!”

I laughed. “Favors? Like when I asked you to watch Tommy for an hour?”

Word spread, and soon other moms shared their stories. “I started charging Megan too, and she stopped asking!” Chelsea said.

Weeks passed with eerie quiet. One evening, I saw Megan struggling with groceries. For a moment, I considered helping. Then I remembered all the times she’d left me in the lurch.

“Some people need to carry the weight of their actions!” I muttered, turning away.