This story is for your son, Spoiled Son Demands Money For Doing His Chores
Ethan pushed his plate away with a sigh. “I’m sick of meatloaf,” he complained. “Can’t you make something different for once?” His mother looked at him, eyebrows raised. “We had roast chicken yesterday, burgers the day before that, and fish on Friday.” Ethan rolled his eyes and stood up. “Yeah, whatever.”
As he walked away, his mom called out, “Ethan, wash your plate and put it in the dishwasher, please.” He turned with a dramatic scoff. “Why should I? I’m not your servant.” His mom looked stunned. “Excuse me?” “You don’t pay me,” Ethan said with a smirk. “It’s not fair to expect me to work for free.”
His dad, sitting quietly until now, looked up. “We feed you, clothe you, pay for your school and sports. That’s a lot more than a paycheck.” Ethan shrugged. “That’s your job. Legally. I don’t have to do anything.”
His mom was visibly upset, but before she could respond, his dad stepped in calmly. “So you think you deserve to be paid for chores?” Ethan nodded confidently. “I’ve thought about it. Trash is a dollar. Dishes, two. Dog-walking, four. Room-cleaning, five. Yard work and mowing? Ten. And honestly, I should charge retroactively.” His mom’s face flushed with disbelief, but his dad smiled. “Alright then. We’ll pay you. From now on, you’re a working man. You’ll track your chores and get paid on Fridays.”
Ethan grinned triumphantly. “Finally, some respect around here.” He had no idea what was coming.
Later that evening, his mom turned to his dad in disbelief. “You’re going along with this?” “Trust me,” his dad replied. “He’s about to learn something real.”
The next day, Ethan came home from football practice, starving. “What’s for dinner?” he asked eagerly. “Turkey pie, sweet potatoes, and peas,” his mom said with a smile. He marked off his chores on the chart—dog walked, room cleaned, trash taken out. Nine bucks already, he thought. I’m gonna be rich.
When dinner was ready, he wandered into the kitchen—only to find his parents halfway through their meal. “You didn’t call me?” he asked, irritated. “Since you’re working for money now,” his dad replied, “so are we. If you want your mom to cook for you, she charges for her time and ingredients.”
“You’re joking.”
“Not at all. You can use your earnings to order takeout,” his mom said sweetly.
Outraged, Ethan stormed off and ordered pizza. With delivery and tip, it cost him over fifteen dollars—nearly two days of chores gone in a single meal. Being a “man” was getting expensive.
The next morning, bacon and eggs sizzled in the kitchen. “Morning, Mom. Can I get mine over easy?” “Of course,” she said with a smile. “That’ll be six dollars.”
“Six dollars? For breakfast?”
Later that day, Ethan brought up a team expense. “Coach says we need new jerseys—$69.99.” His dad nodded. “Sounds like something you’ll need to budget for.”
“I thought you’d pay for it!”
“Not anymore. You wanted to earn money. Now you buy your own clothes too.”
Ethan was stunned. “I don’t even have seventy dollars!” “Better start saving,” his dad replied calmly.
Rattled, Ethan tried to ask for a ride to school. “I’m late. Can you drive me?” “Of course,” his dad said. “That’s $5.50—same as a cab.”
“You’re charging me to go to school?”
“Seems fair. You’re earning now. So we’re just giving you the adult experience.”
Ethan walked to school that day. He was late, frustrated, and already dreading the next meal. At lunch, the cafeteria food was bland compared to his mom’s home cooking. By dinner, he was starving and exhausted. He walked into the kitchen and saw his parents eating. The smell was incredible.
“Mom, Dad,” he said quietly. “Can we talk?”
His dad set his fork down. “Sure, son.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how much you guys do for me. I thought chores were just annoying tasks, but I see now… you’re doing way more than I ever appreciated. And you don’t ask for anything in return.”
His mom smiled, eyes softening. “That’s because we love you, Ethan. Taking care of you isn’t a job—it’s what parents do.”
“I know. I was wrong. I really am sorry.”
His dad reached over and hugged him. “Family means helping each other. We’re a team. We don’t keep score.”
His mom opened the oven and pulled out a warm dish. “Cottage pie and green beans—your favorite.”
That night, Ethan had one of the best dinners of his life—not just because of the food, but because he finally understood something far more important. He realized that love isn’t measured in dollars, and in a family, contribution isn’t about getting paid—it’s about showing up, helping out, and being grateful for what you’re given.