They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but what about a spoiled twenty-something stepdaughter? I was about to find out.
When Kayla moved back home, she treated our house like a hotel – one where the staff was expected to follow her around disposing of her endless trail of garbage. Cereal bowls fossilized on coffee tables. Makeup wipes decorated every bathroom surface. One memorable day, I found a banana peel stuffed between our couch cushions.
“Relax, it’s just a banana,” she scoffed when I confronted her.
That’s when I realized: words wouldn’t work with Kayla. She needed to experience consequences.
Operation Give-Back began subtly. That empty soda can on the windowsill? Placed neatly on her nightstand. The pile of takeout containers? Stacked like modern art on her dresser. When I discovered a collection of rotting food under the living room furniture, I knew it was time for my masterpiece – a gourmet garbage lunchbox delivered to her workplace.
The shock worked better than any lecture. Suddenly, Kayla noticed the mess she’d been making. More importantly, she noticed me – not as hired help, but as a person deserving basic respect. These days, our house stays clean without me playing maid. And while Kayla may never win any daughter-of-the-year awards, at least she’s learned one crucial life lesson: nobody owes you free housekeeping.
