Wesley leaned back in his chair and pushed his plate away with a sigh.
“Meatloaf again?” he groaned. “Can’t we have something different for once?”
His mother’s smile faltered slightly.
“We had roast chicken yesterday, hamburgers the day before, and fish on Friday…” she reminded him gently.
Wesley rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”
He stood up, ready to leave the table, when his mother’s voice stopped him.
“Wesley, please rinse your plate and put it in the dishwasher.”
He turned back with a smirk. “Why should I? I’m not your servant!”
His mother blinked in surprise. “My servant?”
“Yeah,” Wesley said smugly. “Working without pay is basically servitude, and I don’t get paid!”
His father set his fork down and looked at him carefully. “Son, we provide you with food, shelter, clothes, and an education—”
“That’s your responsibility,” Wesley interrupted. “The law says you have to do that. But I don’t have to do anything unless I get something in return.”
His mother’s face turned red with frustration, but his father remained calm, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
“So, you’re saying you should be paid for doing chores?” his father asked.
Wesley grinned. “Exactly! If you want me to take out the trash, that’s $1. Washing dishes? $2. Walking the dog, $4. Cleaning my room, $5. And mowing the lawn? That’s a solid $10.”
His mother opened her mouth to protest, but his father held up a hand.
“Alright, Wesley,” his father said, nodding. “From now on, we’ll pay you for every chore you do.”
Wesley’s grin widened.
“But,” his father continued, “since you’re earning money now, you’ll also start paying for your own expenses.”
Wesley barely heard him. He was already daydreaming about how rich he was about to become.
The next afternoon, Wesley walked in after football practice, stomach growling.
“Mom, what’s for dinner?” he asked, inhaling the delicious aroma.
His mother was already at the table with his father. “Turkey pot pie with sweet potatoes and peas,” she said sweetly.
“Awesome! I’m starving!” Wesley reached for a plate.
His father raised a hand. “Hold on, son. Since you’re earning now, your mom won’t be cooking for free anymore. If you’d like dinner, that’ll be $10.”
Wesley’s jaw dropped. “TEN DOLLARS?! That’s ridiculous!”
His mother shrugged. “Or you can buy something for yourself. Your choice.”
Grumbling, Wesley stomped upstairs and ordered a pizza. But when it arrived, he realized something shocking.
With the tip and delivery fee, it cost him $15.
That meant he’d have to work three days just to pay for one meal.
Being independent was expensive.
The next morning, the smell of sizzling bacon lured him to the kitchen.
“Mom, can I get my eggs over easy?” he asked sweetly.
“Of course,” she said. “That’ll be $6.”
Wesley blinked. “You’re charging me for breakfast now?!”
His mother smiled. “Well, I could make it for free… but that would make me your servant, wouldn’t it?”
Wesley groaned. “Fine! I’ll just grab some toast.”
His mother held up a hand. “That’ll be $2.”
His father chuckled from behind his coffee cup. “Welcome to adulthood, son.”
The real shock came when Wesley needed money for a new football jersey.
“Coach said we need new jerseys. It’s $70,” he told his dad.
His father leaned back. “And why are you telling me this?”
“So you can give me the money!”
His father shook his head. “Oh no, son. Now that you’re earning, you have to pay for your own expenses.”
Wesley’s stomach sank. “Where am I supposed to get $70?!”
“From your job, of course,” his dad replied.
Wesley did the math. At $5 per chore, it would take him two weeks to afford the jersey.
This was turning into a nightmare.
That afternoon, Wesley was running late for school.
“Dad, can you give me a ride?” he asked.
“Sure,” his father said. “That’ll be $5.50.”
Wesley’s mouth fell open. “YOU’RE CHARGING ME FOR A RIDE?!”
His father nodded. “A taxi would cost you more.”
Muttering under his breath, Wesley walked to school.
By lunchtime, he was exhausted and starving. He scarfed down cafeteria food, suddenly missing his mother’s home-cooked meals.
Even meatloaf sounds good right now… he thought miserably.
That night, he wandered downstairs at dinnertime.
He couldn’t afford another pizza.
His parents were already eating—steaming mashed potatoes and juicy roast chicken filled their plates.
His stomach rumbled.
“Mom… Dad…” he started, his voice small. “Can we talk?”
His father gestured for him to sit. “What’s on your mind, son?”
Wesley swallowed hard. “I was wrong.”
His mother raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”
“I didn’t realize how much you both do for me. I thought I was being smart, but I was just being selfish.”
His mother’s expression softened. “And?”
“And… I’m sorry.” He hesitated, then added, “I’ll do my chores—without getting paid. Because that’s what families do, right? We help each other.”
His dad smiled and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Now that is the lesson we were hoping you’d learn.”
His mother stood and kissed his forehead. “And that’s why you’re getting dinner on the house tonight!”
She placed a steaming plate in front of him. “Cottage pie with green beans—your favorite!”
Wesley dug in, savoring every bite.
And just like that, dinner tasted better than it ever had before.
What can we learn from this story?
Love doesn’t come with a price tag. Families support each other because they care, not for rewards.
A family thrives when everyone contributes. When we help each other, life becomes easier for everyone.
Share this story! It might inspire someone to appreciate the love and effort their family puts in every day.