When my husband Mark and I arrived at our son-in-law Tyler’s barbecue, we expected good food, laughter, and quality family time. What we didn’t expect was to walk straight into a trap. Tyler and his wife, Brittany, had no intention of spending the evening with us.
Instead, they casually tricked us into babysitting their kids—and not just theirs, but their friends’ kids too. They thought they could use us. But if they believed we’d take it quietly, they were in for a surprise.
I had been looking forward to the barbecue. Mark and I always tried to be supportive in-laws, making sure to build a good relationship with Mark’s son, Tyler, and his wife, Brittany.
“Should we bring anything?” I asked Brittany over the phone the day before.
“Just yourselves,” she said cheerfully. “We’ve got everything covered.”
So, on the day of the barbecue, Mark and I showed up right on time, a bottle of wine in hand despite Brittany’s reassurance that we didn’t need to bring anything.
The front door was unlocked, so we let ourselves in.
“Hello? Tyler? Brittany?” Mark called out as we stepped inside.
But something felt off.
The living room was a mess—empty beer bottles, used paper plates, and crumpled napkins covered the coffee table. It looked like a party had already happened… and ended.
We followed the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen and found Tyler, Brittany, and about six of their friends gathered around the island, drinks in hand.
“Jen! Dad! You made it,” Tyler greeted us, but something in his voice felt… off.
I glanced around, noticing that everyone was dressed to go out. Some had their jackets on, and one couple was already heading toward the back door.
“You did say four p.m., didn’t you? Are we late?” I asked, confused. “It looks like the party is over.”
Brittany and Tyler exchanged a quick look before Brittany flashed us a bright smile.
“Oh, we decided to move things along a bit,” she said nonchalantly.
Tyler nodded. “Yeah, we’re all heading out to that new place downtown. You guys can stay and watch the kids. Oh, and our friends’ kids too.”
I blinked. I couldn’t have heard that right.
“Wait… what?” Mark asked, his voice tight.
One of their friends leaned in with a grateful smile. “Thank you so much! Babysitters are crazy expensive these days.”
Mark and I exchanged a glance. His jaw was tight, but he said nothing.
I took a deep breath and smiled sweetly.
“Of course! Have fun.”
Brittany let out a sigh of relief and grabbed her purse. “Great! The kids are in the basement watching a movie. There’s pizza in the fridge if they get hungry.”
“How many kids exactly?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.
“Just seven,” Tyler replied, already heading for the door. “We’ll be back by midnight. Maybe.”
And just like that, they were gone.
The moment their cars pulled out of the driveway, Mark turned to me, his face red with anger.
“They seriously just tricked us into babysitting?”
I nodded, still processing the ambush. “They didn’t even ask. They just assumed.”
“We can’t just let this slide,” Mark said, his voice controlled but firm. “This isn’t right.”
“No, it’s not,” I agreed, but as I stared at the mess they had left behind, an idea started forming in my mind. A wickedly brilliant idea.
I grinned and explained my plan to Mark.
“That’s genius,” he said, chuckling. “Let’s do it.”
“First, though, let’s take care of the kids.”
We spent the next few hours playing games, supervising dinner, and making sure all seven children were happy and safe. By half past nine, they were all tucked into sleeping bags and beds, fast asleep.
Then, Mark and I cleaned the entire house—not out of kindness, but because I wanted it spotless for what came next.
At 10:30, I picked up my phone and dialed Brittany.
She answered on the third ring, loud music and laughter in the background. “Hello?”
I gasped dramatically. “Brittany! It’s a disaster! You need to come home NOW!”
And then I hung up.
My phone immediately lit up with a return call. I showed Mark, then set the phone on the counter and let it ring.
“Let them sweat a little,” I said with a smirk.
We ignored every call and text that followed.
Twenty minutes later, cars screeched into the driveway. Doors slammed. Footsteps pounded up the front steps. The front door burst open, and in rushed Tyler, Brittany, and their friends, their faces pale with panic.
“What happened?” Brittany cried. “Are the kids okay?!”
Mark and I sat calmly on the couch, flipping through magazines.
“They’re fine,” I said, barely looking up. “Fast asleep.”
Tyler’s mouth fell open. “But you said it was a disaster!”
I set the magazine down. “Oh, that? I just needed you to experience what it feels like when someone dumps responsibility on you without warning.”
Brittany gaped at me. “But… you said—”
I waved her off with a smirk. “The real disaster was your manners, dear.”
Mark clapped Tyler on the shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
We gathered our things and walked out, leaving them stunned.
The next weekend, we invited them for dinner. When they arrived, expecting a home-cooked meal, they found takeout containers stacked on the table instead.
Before they could even react, I clapped my hands together. “Oh! We need to step out for a bit. Hope you guys don’t mind watching the house!”
Mark grabbed his coat. “Yeah, just make yourselves comfortable. Oh, and keep an eye on the neighbor’s dog. He’s a bit wild.”
“Wait, what?” Brittany sputtered.
Right on cue, our neighbor’s hyperactive puppy bounded into the room, nearly knocking over a chair.
“That dog,” Mark said. “Jim’s away for the weekend, so we offered to watch Rocket. He eats at seven.”
Tyler groaned. “You can’t be serious.”
“Have fun!” I called as we walked out the door.
We took our time at dinner, enjoying a leisurely meal at our favorite restaurant.
When we returned three hours later, Brittany looked exhausted, her hair messy, her shirt stained with soy sauce. Tyler was rubbing his temples.
“Wow,” he muttered. “That was… something.”
Mark chuckled. “A little overwhelming when someone drops responsibilities on you without warning?”
Brittany sighed. “Okay, okay. We get it. We should have asked before leaving the kids with you.”
Mark patted Tyler’s back. “Lesson learned?”
“Lesson learned,” he admitted.
“Good,” I said. “Now, who wants some dessert? I made pecan pie.”
Brittany looked up in surprise. “You actually cooked?”
“Of course,” I said sweetly. “The takeout was just part of the setup.”
As we finally sat down to eat, the conversation warmed up, laughter filling the air.
Before they left, Brittany hugged me. “I’m sorry we took advantage of you. We won’t do it again.”
“I know you won’t,” I said with a wink. “Next time, just ask.”
