When my brother asked me to watch his two sons while he and his wife went on vacation, I agreed — even though something in me knew it wouldn’t be easy.
From the moment they arrived, it was clear they weren’t used to a modest home like mine.
They turned up with designer luggage, scoffed at homemade spaghetti, and compared everything in my house to the luxuries they had back home — from our fridge to my son Adrian’s gaming laptop.
Adrian tried to be welcoming, offering cookies, games, and even showing his Lego collection, but they brushed him off every time.
For two weeks, I held my tongue and reminded myself it was temporary.
The real test came on the drive to the airport.
When I told them to wear seatbelts, they refused, insisting it wasn’t necessary.
I calmly pulled the car over and explained I wasn’t driving until everyone buckled up.
They called their dad, who told them the same thing — but they still refused.
So, I turned off the engine and waited. After nearly an hour of sighs and complaints, they finally gave in.
By then, traffic had built up, and we reached the airport too late — they missed their flight.
Their father was furious, but I stood my ground. I told him,
“I won’t break rules just because your kids don’t like them. Respect and safety matter.”
Adrian later showed me a message from his cousin saying I was “over the top.” I just smiled.
Maybe so — but at least they learned that sometimes the world doesn’t bend to your wishes, no matter how privileged you think you are.
