My son, Oliver, got an allowance of five hundred dollars a month. He thought it was peanuts and racked his brain to get more out of me. He’d charge five bucks for clearing the dishes, ten for making his bed. Even when I had a fever and asked him to run downstairs for some medicine, he’d deadpan: “Ten dollars for the errand, or you can just burn up.” By the end of the month, he presented me with a bill. “Mom, I did a thousand dollars worth of work this month. You owe me.” My husband, Arthur, chuckled, “I should learn from Oliver. I lifted the toilet seat when I went to the bathroom, you owe me ten bucks.” Seeing them genuinely planning to charge me, a stay-at-home mom, for household chores, I spoke calmly. “Alright, from today on, we’ll operate on a ‘pay-for-work’ system in this house.” 1 Oliver was only in middle school, but he spent money like water. All his birthday money went straight to toys. I capped his allowance at five hundred a month, and he threw a huge fit. When he saw I wouldn’t budge, Oliver tried a different approach. “Mom, I took out the trash for you today! You owe me five dollars!” Seeing him willing to help with chores, I was happy and even transferred him an extra five. But two days later, I was laid up with a fever, utterly drained and couldn’t find any medicine. “Oliver, could you please go downstairs and get some fever medicine for Mom? Cough, cough…” Oliver stood still, holding out his hand. “Mom, ten dollars for the errand.” I was stunned. I couldn't believe my son was demanding money when I was sick. Oliver pressed on, “Pay first, or I’m afraid you’ll back out later!” Seeing that look on his face – the one that screamed “no money, no medicine” – I felt a chill spread through me. Hadn't I always rushed him to the emergency room the moment he got sick? Every time, I’d be in tears, urging the driver to go faster. My head was spinning so much, I worried I wouldn’t even be able to take the medicine later. I forced myself to reach for my phone, and after several fumbling attempts to unlock it, I scanned his code and paid the ten dollars. Five minutes later, the medicine arrived. Oliver handed it to me. “Mom, need water? Pouring water is cheap, five dollars should cover it.” I looked up at Oliver in disbelief. Who takes medicine without water?! I tried to reason with him, mustering what little strength I had left. “Mom’s really unwell right now. If I don’t take this, I could get seriously sick.” “We can talk about money later…” But Oliver pouted, clearly annoyed. “Why later? Hurry up! Money first, then the goods!” His tone lacked any hint of concern for my illness. My head was heavy, and I didn’t have the strength to transfer money anymore. Just before I blacked out, I used every ounce of my energy to put the fever medicine in my mouth before closing my eyes. After swallowing the medicine, I slept straight through to the next day. When I woke up, Oliver saw my fever was gone and looked utterly disappointed. “Mom is so stingy! She wouldn’t even give me five dollars for the water!” I opened my mouth, only to find it terribly bitter. The fever medicine had dissolved in my mouth, and I still hadn’t had any water. A dull ache throbbed in my head and chest. I slowly sat up and noticed a box of fever medicine in the trash bin. “Did you throw this away?” A flicker of guilt crossed Oliver’s eyes, but he quickly put his hands on his hips. “If I hadn’t thrown it away, you wouldn’t have asked me to buy medicine!” “If you hadn’t asked me to buy medicine, how would I have earned ten dollars for the errand!” “You should just blame yourself for cutting my allowance!” I tried to explain. “Five hundred dollars is enough for your allowance. If there’s anything you want to buy, just tell Mom…” But Oliver shouted, cutting me off. “Five hundred is enough for what?! I told you I wanted to buy a toy, did you buy it for me?” Last month, he wanted to buy a hundred-dollar toy, and I’d refused. Seeing my silence, Oliver sneered, then pulled out a ledger. “I’ve helped you with a lot this month, Mom. You can’t deny it!” I stared blankly at the open bill. [Helped Mom hang laundry: $10.] [Helped Mom clear dishes: $5.] [Helped Mom close the door: $3.] … These were all small tasks, just simple favors, most of them even his own responsibilities. But he’d tallied them all under "helping Mom," and the total for the month came to a staggering one hundred dollars! Seeing I hadn’t moved, he pressed 911 on his kids’ smartwatch, just short of dialing. “Mom, pay up! Or I’ll call the police! I’ll tell them you’re employing child labor and abusing children!” 2 Click! Arthur opened the door, frowning at the scene. “What’s going on?” Oliver ran over and handed Arthur the ledger. “Dad, I helped Mom with so much this month, and she’s trying to welch on the payment!” Arthur glanced at it, his expression hardening. “Eleanor, that’s out of line. The boy put in the effort, why shouldn’t he get a reward?” His critical tone sent a wave of hurt through me. I told Arthur about the fever medicine, expecting him to scold Oliver. But to my surprise, his voice grew even more impatient. “Is that even worth mentioning? Why are you being so petty as a mother?” He tapped the table, urging me. “Don’t discourage the boy from helping with chores. Besides, you’re a stay-at-home mom. If Oliver does some of your chores, isn't it only fair you pay him?” I stood frozen, clutching my phone, looking at Arthur helplessly. When it came to raising Oliver, Arthur always loved to contradict me. But I never imagined he’d support me in transferring a hundred dollars to our son. Oliver, hearing his dad side with him, proudly flashed his payment QR code. “Hurry up!” Both of them closed in on me. I tried to protest, “I don’t have that much money…” Arthur stared fixedly at me. “Didn’t I transfer you twelve hundred for groceries yesterday?” My jaw dropped. “Then what about this month’s groceries?!” “Figure it out yourself!” Arthur snatched my phone and, without another word, transferred a hundred dollars to Oliver. Every month, I relied on that twelve hundred to feed the entire family, and it was often barely enough. Now, with only two hundred left, my head spun, and I had no idea what to do. Oliver immediately bought a new toy, gloating at me. “Mom, what good was your refusal? I still bought it!” “Oh, right, Mom, I just put my shoes in the shoe rack. A dollar for my trouble!” My heart clenched. Was I going to have to transfer another hundred dollars to him next month?! Arthur, meanwhile, was lounging with one leg crossed, laughing. “I should learn from my son. I lifted the toilet seat today. You should pay me ten dollars too. If I do that once a day, that’s three hundred a month.” He tipped his chin at Oliver. “Son, write that down. Your mom owes me.” I clenched my fists, barely able to breathe. By their calculations, I’d owe them an extra hundred dollars next month! But I’d been a stay-at-home mom for over a decade. My savings and what little dowry I had were long gone. Where would I get the money? Seeing Oliver diligently jot down another line, I couldn’t take it anymore. I snatched the small notebook. Oliver’s eyes glinted with disdain. He challenged me, “Mom, you’re not going to try to tear it up, are you? I’ve got backups!” I took a deep breath, crumpled the notebook into a ball, then released it. “I won’t tear it.” “You can write this down for me too.” 3 Arthur thought I was joking, but the next morning at breakfast, as he ate, I declared: “Cooking breakfast for Oliver, twenty dollars.” “Getting a bowl for my husband, ten dollars.” “Oliver, remember to write that down.” Oliver stared, bewildered. “Mom, are you serious?” Arthur frowned. “What nonsense are you playing at?” I smiled. “You can’t expect to get paid for chores while I’m free labor, can you?” “You are free labor!” Oliver immediately shouted. “They say a mother’s love is selfless! Charging your son for cooking? Have you no shame?!” Arthur was just as displeased. “How can you, a mother, even say such a thing? Your son came from you; it’s only right you care for him. And I paid twenty thousand dollars for your dowry. You were bought.” Oliver grew even more agitated. “You eat Dad’s food, use Dad’s things, and still dare to demand money?!” My heart sank, utterly. This was the love I’d sacrificed a high-paying job for. This was the marriage I’d painstakingly built for over a decade, and this was my beloved son. The two of them continued to sneer, but I ignored them, pulling out a new notebook and diligently writing down each item. By this calculation, I could earn thirty dollars just in one morning, far more than twelve hundred a month. But Arthur’s face turned completely black. He slammed his bowl to the floor. “This is ridiculous! Charging me for a bowl? I’m not eating!” As he walked out the door, he threw a cold remark over his shoulder. “Keep up this act! I’d be surprised if I give you even a dollar for groceries next month!” After he left, Oliver also headed out for school, but he couldn’t find his shoes in the shoe rack. “Mom! Help me find my shoes!” he cried anxiously. I slowly replied, “Finding shoes, ten dollars.” Oliver’s eyes widened in shock. He huffed indignantly. “Fine! I won’t wear any! I’ll wear my slippers to school!” He stomped on the ledger twice in frustration, not forgetting to yell, “Just idling around the house all day, living off Dad, and still shamelessly demanding money!” He kicked the table, sending food crashing to the floor. “How could I have a mom like you?!” My heart shattered into as many pieces as the broken dishes on the floor. In all these years, there hadn’t been a single day when I was “idling around the house.” On the contrary, to cook meals, I woke up earlier than anyone else. After I finished the housework, they would both be snoring away. Yet, my son thought I was doing nothing. I chuckled self-deprecatingly, wiping away tears from the corners of my eyes. All this, it wasn’t something I had to do! I stepped around the leftover food and followed them out. Since no one valued my labor, thinking it was all just expected, I decided I would find a job to prove my worth. But to my surprise, I searched all morning, and no company would hire me. I’d been a stay-at-home mom for too long; my life had revolved around my son and husband, and I’d been out of touch with society for too long. In the afternoon, Arthur called me, gritting his teeth. “Are you out of your mind? Not even coming home to cook lunch!” I replied calmly, “Order takeout yourself. Or I can come back and make a meal for eighty dollars.” At the mention of money, Arthur immediately swore. “Fine, then never come back!” With that, he slammed down the phone. Before I could even stand up, Arthur sent a text: [If you’re going to be like that, how much rent do you think you owe for living in my house?] My heart plummeted. It felt like a slap across the face. I realized this farce had escalated to an unmanageable point. Thankfully, I had no intention of managing it. I thought for a moment, then a suitable job came to mind. I didn’t return home until evening. Oliver, watching TV, rolled his eyes. “What took you so long? I’m starving!” I said calmly, “What do you want to eat?” Oliver immediately reeled off, “Sweet and sour ribs, braised pork, grilled wings!” “That’ll be eighty-nine dollars.” Oliver froze, his face contorted in anger. “You’re my mom! Why are you charging me to cook my favorite food?!” I found it amusing. “Then why do you charge me for making your own bed?” Oliver’s face flushed. “Because you’re my mom!” He then pinched his nose, looking disgusted at the overturned breakfast table. “It stinks! Can you please clean up that mess before talking to me?!” The morning’s disaster was still untouched, and the oil from the food had seeped into the floor. The house reeked of greasy, sour odors. “Sure, cleaning up will be fifty dollars.” Oliver’s face went white. “Are you doing this on purpose?! Are you trying to get back at me for that hundred dollars?!” He screamed, “This is your duty as a mother!” Just then, Arthur came home from work and frowned at Oliver. “What’s all the shouting about?!” Oliver pointed at me. “She’s being completely unreasonable! Dad! She’s on strike! Cut her allowance, that’ll teach her a lesson!” Arthur loosened his tie, looking annoyed. “Eleanor, are you done with this? If you keep acting up, I’m going to start charging you rent!” Seeing me stand my ground, Arthur sneered. “Two thousand dollars a month for a two-bedroom apartment isn’t unreasonable, is it? For fifteen years, you owe me three hundred and sixty thousand.” He pulled out his payment QR code and shoved it in front of me. “Transfer the money now! Or you can apologize to me and Oliver. After you apologize, cook dinner and clean the house, and no more talk about money!” I looked at his face, veins throbbing with anger, and suddenly I laughed. “Hold on, let’s calculate from the beginning. Let’s also put a price on all the housework I’ve done every day.” Arthur’s face turned completely black.
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