When my stepdaughter Morgan, a 26-year-old marketing executive, moved back home “to save money,” I didn’t realize that meant I’d become her unpaid housekeeper. Despite her six-figure salary, she acted like basic cleanliness didn’t apply to her – leaving makeup spills in the sink, food-encrusted plates in her bedroom, and enough empty LaCroix cans to build a small fortress.
“Can you pick up my dry cleaning?” she’d text while I was at work. “My room needs vacuuming,” she’d announce like she was the queen and I was her staff. My gentle reminders went ignored until the day I found nail polish spilled on my grandmother’s quilt.
That’s when I got creative. Every item Morgan left lying around got placed in her pillowcase. Her car keys? Buried in the pile of laundry she refused to wash. Her designer purse? Gently nestled in the week’s worth of takeout containers she couldn’t be bothered to throw out.
The wake-up call came when she reached into her work bag during an important client lunch and pulled out a leaking yogurt container from three days prior. The apology text that evening was almost worth the months of frustration.
We’ve reached a truce now. She does her own laundry, and I don’t hide spoiled food in her belongings. It’s not perfect, but it’s progress – and sometimes that’s enough.
