
Two weeks before my best friendâs due date, I took time off work and paid for my flights from Britain to help with her two older kids (bedtime, food, homework, school runs, lunches etc).
Iâd done this before a few weeks prior to her last baby arrived, just to support her in the final stretch of her pregnancy.
When I arrived at her house, bags in hand and ready to settle into our usual routine, she sat me down and dropped a bombshell. âThe babyâs coming early. I have to have a C-section in two days.â
I told her no worries, I was still here to help however I could. I assumed Iâd continue to manage the kids, make a few meals, handle some errands.
But what she did next made me immediately GO STRAIGHT BACK HOME. HOME.
She pulled out a three-page laminated contract.
“Since you’re staying for two weeks,” she said without a hint of irony, “I need you to sign this. It just outlines the expectations so we don’t have any arguments.”
I took it, thinking she was joking. She wasn’t.
It wasn’t a list of helpful favors. It was a 6:00 AM to 11:00 PM manual labor roster. It included “Deep clean all carpets,” “Repaint the spare room,” and “Meal prep 30 dinners for the freezer.”
But the line that made me see red was at the bottom: “Guest Utility Surcharge: ÂŁ150 per week to cover extra water and electricity usage.”
She wanted me to pay her to be her full-time maid.
I didn’t even argue. I just stood up, grabbed my suitcase, and called a cab to the airport right in front of her. Sheâs now blasting me on Facebook for “abandoning a pregnant woman,” but Iâm already back in Britain sipping tea.