Amelia wanted to meet her newborn grandson, but when her son, Mark, wouldn’t pick her up, she decided to walk to his house. It took hours because she was using a walker. But when she got to Mark’s house, he banned her from entering, and something shocking happened.
“I can’t pick you up, Mom. I have to run some errands for Camilla, and other people are coming. We’ll set a time for you to see the baby,” Mark told his mother, Amelia, on the phone. She was supposed to come to see their newborn baby for the first time, and he had to pick her up because his house was far away.
“Are you sure? It’s pretty quick by car,” Amelia almost pleaded. She truly wanted to meet her grandson.
“Some other time, Mom. I have to go. See you later!” he hung up, and Amelia plopped down on her couch with a huge sigh.
“I don’t care what you brought! I don’t want you here right now. You need to go immediately!”
She was worried about Mark’s attitude lately. It seemed like he had been pulling away from her. If she was being honest, it started happening when he married Camilla.
Camilla came from an extremely wealthy family in Connecticut, while Amelia raised Mark as a single mother with the help of his grandmother. They never had much except tons of love. But now, her son had everything. Camilla’s parents gifted them a huge house after they eloped, and he was living the high life.
Ever since then, Amelia felt left out, as if he was ashamed of his background, although he never said it outright.
“You’re being silly,” she told herself often when she thought about this matter. “Mark is just busy. Now they have a baby and a million things to do. He’ll pick you up some other time.”
But she had a sudden idea. She could walk to his house. It might be challenging, but she could do it. The bus routes didn’t reach his home, and she couldn’t afford it, so walking was her only option.
She finally reached his house and rang the door bell. | Source: Pexels
Amelia heaved herself up with her walker and grabbed her purse and a bag she had prepared for that day. She hung them on the walker securely and started her journey. It was slow, and although she could lean on the walker, it was tough on her.
She had to stop several times along the way, and before she knew it, two hours had passed. Three. Four. Finally, she reached his house, heaving heavily but happy that she had done it even with her walking issues.
After ringing the doorbell, she took the special bag as she wanted Mark to open it right away. But when he answered the door, his face fell.
“Mom?” he said, shocked. “What are you doing here?”
Amelia didn’t understand his expression and almost frowned, but she was was excited to be there and that’s what she focused on. “Surprise!” she said, trying to sound enthusiastic although she was tired, hungry, and concerned about his attitude.
Mark stepped out, closing the door behind him and forcing her to take several steps back with her walker. “What are you doing, Mark?” she asked, frowning now.
“Mom! I told you you would meet the baby some other time. You can’t come in right now!” he scolded her, his face crumpled in anger.
Mark was angry and told her to go away, shutting the door in her face. | Source: Pexels
“I don’t understand. Why are you angry? I just walked almost five hours to see my grandson, Mark, and I brought—”
“I don’t care what you brought! I don’t want you here right now. You need to go immediately! You’ll meet Hans another day, alright? Please just go now!” he demanded, looking behind him as if worried that someone would see them. He opened the door and returned inside, shutting the door in her face and leaving her standing outside with her things.
Amelia was shocked. Tears gathered in her eyes. He didn’t even ask if she was alright, although she had just told him about walking for five hours to get there. He knew she had problems with mobility.
But she didn’t want to cause any more trouble, so she started to turn around, then she remembered the bag in her hands. She decided to leave it outside his door, hoping he would find it later.
Amelia set out to walk home, prepared for the long, tiring hours that lay ahead. Luckily, her neighbor, Mrs. Cassavetes, saw her and gave her a ride in her old car. When she arrived home, her legs gave out as soon as she closed her front door. She sat down on the couch, and that’s when she noticed her legs were inflamed.
Mark finally found the bag that Amelia had left on his doorstep. | Source: Pexels
After some rest, she managed to stand up, get some ice, and take a pain reliever. But in the end, she had to sleep on the sofa because her bedroom seemed too far away.
***
Meanwhile, Mark said goodbye to his guests that night, waving at them through his front door. It had been a hectic day with many visitors, and it was finally over. He hunched his shoulders, thinking about his actions earlier that day.
His mother had walked to his house from her own home, he thought guiltily, then shook his head, convincing himself that it was not his fault.
“She shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered to himself. As he turned around, he noticed the bag on the floor. He picked it up and saw a tag labeled, “From Grandma.”
Mark bit his lip, thinking about his mother leaving it there and returning to her house. He opened the bag and realized what was inside. They were his old toys from his childhood. They never had much at his house, but these items were always precious to him. They still were. He couldn’t help but start crying.
Camilla saw him outside and got worried. “What’s wrong, honey?”
He went to her house and entered with his set of keys. | Source: Pexels
“I did something horrible to my mother,” he wailed, and his wife embraced him. He revealed everything he had done, including that he started pulling away from his family because they were all poor, and he felt ashamed. “I can’t believe I was so horrible to her!”
After his wife comforted him, Mark decided to drive to his mother’s house immediately with a big apology. He still had the keys to her house in case of emergencies, so when he got there, he decided not to ring the doorbell and just use them to get in. But he was greeted by the vision of his mother passed out on the couch with cold compresses on her legs.
“Mom,” he whispered, waking her up gently.
“Mark, why are you here?” she said groggily and tried to get up, but he stopped her.
“Don’t move,” he said and picked up his mother as if she weighed nothing, moving her to her bedroom. He added more ice to her cold compresses and helped her put them on her swollen legs. He also made her something to eat, and they drank tea together. Then he apologized for his attitude and told her the truth.
Amelia moved in with them and helped with Hans. | Source: Pexels
Luckily, his mother was the most fantastic person in the world. “I had a feeling you were ashamed, but I’m glad you came here right away to apologize. That’s what I taught you. When you do something wrong, you have to make things right,” Amelia reassured him, and Mark cried into her arms for some time.
He stayed with her the entire night, and fortunately, her legs were much better. The next morning, they decided to go to his house so she could meet his new baby, Hans.
Camilla also apologized because she had no idea what Mark did, but she should’ve asked why Amelia was not there. They spent a wonderful day together, and Amelia gave Camilla tons of advice about babies.
Eventually, Mark asked his mother to move in with them because they had a huge house, and he didn’t want her to be all alone so far away.
What can we learn from this story?
- Never be ashamed of your parents. Mark felt embarrassed about his background and tried to keep it from Camilla’s family, hurting his mother in the process. He regretted it later.
- It’s best to make things right when you realize you made a mistake. Mark immediately tried to make things right after realizing his horrible mistake against his mother. Luckily, she forgave him quickly.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
My Husband Refused to Replace Our Broken Vacuum and Said I Should Sweep Since I’m ‘Just on Maternity Leave’ — So I Taught Him a Lesson He’ll Never Forget
When our vacuum broke, my husband said I should just sweep because I’m “home all day anyway.” So I grabbed our newborn and a broken broom and showed up at his office to remind him exactly what that really looks like.
I’m 30. I just had my first baby, a sweet little girl named Lila. She’s 9 weeks old, and yeah—she’s perfect. But also? She’s chaos. She screams like she’s in a horror movie. Hates naps. Hates being put down. Basically lives in my arms.
A fussy baby in his mother’s arms | Source: Pexels
I’m on unpaid maternity leave, which sounds relaxing until you realize it means I’m working a 24/7 shift with no help, no breaks, and no paycheck.
I’m also handling the house. And the laundry. And the meals. And the litter boxes. We have two cats, both of whom shed like it’s their full-time job.
A tired woman sitting on a couch | Source: Pexels
My husband Mason is 34. He works in finance. Used to be sweet. When I was pregnant, he made me tea and rubbed my feet. Now? I’m not sure he sees me. I’m the woman who hands him the baby so he can say “she’s fussy” and give her back five seconds later.
Last week, the vacuum died. Which, in a house with two cats and beige carpet, is like losing oxygen.
A woman vacuuming | Source: Pexels
“Hey,” I told Mason while he was playing Xbox. “The vacuum finally kicked it. I found a decent one on sale. Can you grab it this week?”
He didn’t even look up. Just paused his game and said, “Why? Just use a broom.”
I blinked. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “Yeah. My mom didn’t have a vacuum when we were kids. She raised five of us with a broom. You’ve got one. And you’re home all day.”
A man lounging on the couch | Source: Pexels
I stared at him.
“You’re not joking,” I said.
“Nope.” He smirked. “She didn’t complain.”
I let out this weird laugh. Half choking, half dying inside.
“Did your mom also carry a screaming baby around while sweeping with one arm?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Probably. She got it done. Women were tougher back then.”
A man arguing with his wife | Source: Pexels
I took a breath. Tried to keep calm. “You do know the baby’s crawling soon, right? She’s going to have her face in this carpet.”
Another shrug. “The place isn’t that bad.”
I looked around. There were literal cat tumbleweeds in the corner.
“And anyway,” he added, “I don’t have spare money right now. I’m saving for the yacht trip next month. With the guys.”
“You’re saving for what?”
A man turning away from his wife | Source: Pexels
“The boat weekend. I told you. I need the break. I’m the one bringing in income right now. It’s exhausting.”
That’s when I stopped talking. Because what was I going to say?
“You haven’t changed a diaper in days?” “You nap while I pump milk at 3 a.m.?” “You think scrubbing spit-up off a onesie is relaxing?”
I didn’t say any of it. I just nodded.
A sad woman sitting on the couch | Source: Pexels
Apparently, child-rearing is a spa retreat now, and the woman doing it doesn’t deserve a working vacuum. That night, after Lila finally fell asleep on my chest, I didn’t cry. I didn’t yell.
I just sat in the hallway. The light was off, but the dim glow from the nightlight hit the baby monitor just right. It was quiet. Too quiet.
I looked at the broken vacuum. Then I looked at the broom.
A crying woman | Source: Pexels
I got up. Took the broom in both hands. Snapped it clean in half.
The next morning, while Mason was at work, I texted him.
“Busy day at the office?”
“Yeah. Back-to-backs. Why?”
“Oh. No reason. I’m just on my way.”
A woman talking on her phone at home | Source: Pexels
I packed Lila into the car, still red-faced from her morning meltdown. I tossed the broken broom in the back.
And I drove.
I pulled into the parking lot of Mason’s office with Lila screaming in the back like I’d strapped her into a rocket seat instead of a car seat. She’d just blown out her diaper on the drive, and she wasn’t shy about letting me know how she felt about it.
A baby crying | Source: Pexels
Perfect.
I wiped spit-up off my shirt, threw a burp cloth over my shoulder, hoisted the broken broom, and unbuckled the baby.
“Alright, Lila,” I muttered. “Let’s go say hi to Daddy.”
His office building was all glass and steel and fake smiles. I walked in with a red-faced baby in one arm and a jagged broom handle in the other.
A woman holding a baby | Source: Pexels
The receptionist blinked twice when she saw us.
“Can I help—?”
“I’m Mason Carter’s wife,” I said, smiling widely. “He left something important at home.”
“Oh. Um. Sure. He’s in a meeting, but you can go back.”
I walked past her desk like I owned the place.
A kind woman holding a baby | Source: Pexels
Lila started wailing again just as I turned the corner into the conference room. There he was. Mason. Sitting at a long glass table with four coworkers, laughing about something on a spreadsheet like he didn’t have a wife slowly unraveling at home.
He looked up. His face went white.
“Babe—what are you doing here?” he said, standing up fast.
I walked straight in and laid the two snapped broom pieces gently on the table in front of him.
A shocked man | Source: Pexels
“Honey,” I said, shifting Lila on my hip, “I tried using the broom like your mom did with her five kids. But it broke. Again.”
The room went silent. Someone coughed. One guy just stared at his laptop like it was suddenly the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.
I looked around the room and kept going.
A woman cuddling a sleeping baby | Source: Pexels
“So,” I said calmly, “should I keep sweeping the carpet with my hands while holding your daughter? Or are you going to buy a new vacuum?”
Mason looked like he might actually faint. His eyes darted between me, the broom, and his coworkers. His jaw opened and closed like he couldn’t decide which disaster to address first.
“Can we talk outside?” he said, his voice sharp and low, already standing.
“Of course,” I said with a smile.
A tired man looking at the camera | Source: Pexels
He yanked the door closed behind us hard enough that the glass shook.
“What the hell was that?” he hissed. His face was bright red now, all his calm corporate charm gone.
“That was me being resourceful,” I said. “Like your mom.”
“You embarrassed me!” he snapped, glancing over his shoulder toward the conference room. “That was a client pitch. My boss was in there.”
An angry businessman | Source: Pexels
“Oh, sorry,” I said, cocking my head. “I thought you said this was all part of the job. Housewife stuff. What’s the issue? I’m just doing what you said.”
He ran a hand over his face, frustrated. “I get it, okay? I messed up. I’ll get the vacuum today.”
“No need,” I said. “I already ordered one. With your card.”
I turned and walked out, Lila still crying, broom handle still under my arm.
A baby crying in their mother’s arms | Source: Pexels
Mason got home that night quieter than usual. He didn’t toss his shoes in the hallway. Didn’t drop his keys on the counter like usual. Didn’t even glance at the Xbox.
I was on the couch feeding Lila. The living room was dim except for the glow from a floor lamp and the soft hum of the white noise machine in the corner. He sat down across from me, hands folded like he was waiting to be called into the principal’s office.
A serious man sitting down | Source: Pexels
“I talked to HR today,” he said.
I looked up slowly. “HR?”
He nodded, staring at the carpet like it had answers. “Yeah. About our… situation. I said we were going through an adjustment. Stress at home. Lack of sleep. You know.”
I blinked at him. “You mean, you told your job your wife embarrassed you because she’s tired and doesn’t have a vacuum?”
A woman talking to an annoyed man | Source: Pexels
He rubbed his neck. “That’s not what I said. I just… I didn’t mean to be dismissive, okay? I’ve got a lot going on too.”
I let a beat pass. Lila made a soft grunt in her sleep.
I didn’t yell. Didn’t even raise my voice. I just looked at him and said, calm as ever, “Mason, you’re either a husband and a father, or you’re a roommate with a guilt complex. You decide.”
A woman talking to her husband | Source: Pexels
He opened his mouth like he might argue. Then he closed it. Just nodded slowly, lips pressed together like he was swallowing something bitter.
The next morning, the yacht trip got canceled. He said the guys were “rescheduling,” but I didn’t ask questions. Pretty sure “the guys” didn’t even know it was happening.
A man talking on his phone | Source: Pexels
That week, he vacuumed every rug in the house—twice. He looked like he was fighting a war with the dust bunnies. Didn’t say a word about it.
He changed three diapers without being asked. Took the 3 a.m. bottle shift two nights in a row, even when Lila screamed in his face like she knew he was new at it. He paced the hallway with her until she passed out on his shoulder.
A man on his laptop while holding a baby | Source: Pexels
He even took her for a walk Sunday morning so I could nap. Left a sticky note on the bathroom mirror that said, “Sleep. I’ve got her.”
I didn’t gloat. Didn’t say “told you so.” Didn’t bring up the office.
But the broken broom? Still sitting in the hallway, right where I left it. Just in case he forgets.
A wooden broom | Source: Pexels
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