My Husband Demanded a Third Child – After My Response, He Kicked Me Out, but I Turned the Tables on Him

When my husband, Eric, suggested having a third child, I knew something had to change. I wasn’t about to take on more responsibility while he lounged around like a king. After I told him exactly what I thought, he kicked me out — but not before I turned the tables on him.

Have you ever had one of those moments where you finally hit your breaking point? That was me when my husband demanded another baby as if I didn’t already have my hands full raising two kids practically alone.

What followed was a showdown I never saw coming.

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

My husband, Eric, and I have been married for 12 years. I’m 32, and he’s 43. We have two kids: our daughter, Lily, who’s ten, and our son, Brandon, who’s five.

Raising them has been my full-time job while I keep this house running.

I work part-time from home to help with the bills, but still handle everything. By everything, I mean cooking, cleaning, school drop-offs, laundry, bedtime routines, and more.

A woman working in the kitchen | Source: Pexels

A woman working in the kitchen | Source: Pexels

Eric, on the other hand, believes his only job is to “provide.” And that’s where his involvement ends. He’s never changed a diaper, stayed up with a sick kid, or even packed a lunchbox.

It’s exhausting, but I love my kids.

I’ve accepted that I’m basically a single parent while Eric sits on the couch, watching sports or playing video games. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get frustrated.

A person holding a game controller | Source: Pexels

A person holding a game controller | Source: Pexels

Last month, my best friend invited me out for coffee. It was the first time in weeks I had a chance to get out of the house for something fun.

“Eric, can you watch the kids for an hour?” I asked as I slipped on my shoes.

His eyes stayed glued to the TV. “I’m tired. I worked all week. Why don’t you just take them with you?”

I sighed. “Because I want a break. It’s just an hour. They’ll be fine.”

A close-up shot of a woman's face | Source: Midjourney

A close-up shot of a woman’s face | Source: Midjourney

Eric rolled his eyes, reaching for the remote. “Katie, you’re the mom. Moms don’t get breaks. My mom never needed breaks. Neither did my sister.”

My jaw clenched. “Oh, so Brianna and Amber never felt overwhelmed? They never needed a minute to themselves?”

“Exactly,” he said smugly. “They managed just fine. You should, too.”

That’s when I lost it.

A man looking at his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at his wife | Source: Midjourney

“Eric, your mom and sister probably felt exactly like I do! They just never said it out loud because they knew no one would listen.”

Eric waved his hand dismissively. “Whatever. It’s your job, Katie. You wanted kids. Now take care of them.”

I wanted to scream.

“They’re your kids, too!” I said. “When do you ever take care of them? When was the last time you helped Lily with her homework? Or played with Brandon? Or asked them how their day was?”

A woman arguing with her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman arguing with her husband | Source: Midjourney

“I go to work to keep a roof over your head. That’s enough.”

“No, it’s not!” I shot back. “Providing money isn’t the same as being a parent. You’re their father, Eric. They need you.”

“Well, tough. I’m not changing how things are.”

I stared at him, speechless. How did I end up married to someone so selfish?

A woman sitting in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in her house | Source: Midjourney

A few days later, Eric started mentioning having another baby. At first, I thought he was joking. I mean, we could barely handle the two kids we already had.

But the more he brought it up, the more I realized he was serious.

The next time Eric brought up having a third child, it wasn’t just a passing comment. He was serious.

It started over dinner one night. I was cutting up Brandon’s chicken nuggets when Eric, casually scrolling on his phone, said, “You know, I’ve been thinking… we should have another baby.”

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

“Excuse me?” I said as I turned toward him.

He looked up. “A third kid. I think it’s time.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Eric, I barely manage with the two we already have. And you want to add another?”

His brow furrowed like I was the one being unreasonable. “What’s the big deal? We’ve already done it twice. You know how it works.”

A man looking at a woman | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at a woman | Source: Midjourney

“That’s exactly the point,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “I know how it works. I’m the one who does all the work. I’m the one up at night. I’m the one running around like a lunatic, trying to keep everything together. You don’t help.”

Eric’s face darkened. “I provide for this family, Katie. That’s helping.”

“No, it’s not,” I snapped. “Being a parent is more than just bringing home a paycheck.”

A woman talking to a man | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to a man | Source: Midjourney

Before Eric could respond, his mother, Brianna, who had stopped by earlier to “visit the kids” with her daughter, walked into the kitchen.

“Everything okay in here?” Brianna asked, her eyes darting between us.

Eric sighed dramatically. “Mom, she’s at it again.”

I rolled my eyes. “At what again?”

“She keeps telling me I don’t help with the kids.”

Brianna’s lips pursed as she took a seat. “Katie, sweetheart, you need to be careful. A man doesn’t like to feel criticized by his wife.”

An older woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

An older woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

Criticized? I was fuming. “I’m not criticizing him. I’m asking him to be a parent. There’s a difference.”

But Brianna wasn’t hearing it. “Eric works hard to provide for this family. You should be grateful.”

Grateful. Right. For a man who thought fatherhood ended with conception.

“And you’re already blessed with two beautiful children,” Brianna continued. “Why wouldn’t you want another?”

She heard our conversation. Nice.

“Because I’m exhausted,” I said flatly. “I’m already doing everything by myself. Why would I want to make my life even harder?”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

That’s when Amber, Eric’s sister, chimed in, stepping into the kitchen like she owned the place. “Honestly, Katie, you sound a little spoiled. Mom raised both of us without complaining.”

“Right,” I said with a bitter laugh. “And I’m sure she never felt overwhelmed. She just kept quiet because no one would’ve cared if she did.”

Amber’s eyes narrowed. “Well, maybe you need to toughen up. Women have been doing this for centuries. It’s just what we do.”

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

I turned to Eric. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re so stuck in this outdated mindset where women are expected to handle everything. It’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair, Katie,” Eric shrugged. “Deal with it.”

I stared at him, feeling like I’d hit a wall. He wasn’t going to change. Neither was his mother or sister.

Later that night, after Brianna and Amber had left, Eric brought up the third child again. This time, his tone was more insistent.

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” he said as we got ready for bed. “We’ve got a good life. I take care of you and the kids. We should have another.”

A man standing in his bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in his bedroom | Source: Midjourney

I turned to him, finally at my breaking point. “Eric, you don’t take care of me. Or the kids. You barely even know them.”

He just stared at me, his expression blank.

“You’re not the great dad you think you are,” I continued. “And I have zero interest in being a single mom to three kids. Two is hard enough.”

Eric’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

A doorknob | Source: Pexels

A doorknob | Source: Pexels

I heard his car start, and moments later, he was gone. Off to his mother’s house, no doubt.

The next morning, I was up early, sipping my coffee in silence. The kids were at my sister’s place. I’d called her the night before, knowing I needed someone to lean on.

I didn’t expect Eric to come back right away, but I wasn’t surprised when Brianna and Amber showed up instead.

They didn’t even knock.

A woman standing in her son's house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her son’s house | Source: Midjourney

“Katie,” Brianna began, stepping into the kitchen. Amber followed, arms crossed and lips pursed. “We need to talk.”

I leaned against the counter, keeping my face calm. “I’m not sure what there is to talk about. Eric and I need to work things out ourselves.”

Amber scoffed. “That’s exactly what we’re here to help with.”

“I don’t need your help,” I said, my voice steady.

But Brianna wasn’t backing down. “Katie, dear, you’ve changed. You’re not the sweet girl my son married.”

An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney

That comment hit me harder than I expected.

For years, I’d been trying to live up to some version of myself they had in their heads. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I was a grown woman with responsibilities they couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

“You’re right,” I said, locking eyes with her. “I’m not that girl anymore. Eric married a teenager. Now, I’m a woman who knows her worth.”

Brianna’s face turned red. “Excuse me?”

A close-up shot of an older woman's face | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of an older woman’s face | Source: Pexels

I crossed my arms. “You heard me. And honestly, if Eric has a problem with how I run my household, he should be here talking to me. Not sending you two to do it for him.”

Amber’s voice was sharp. “That’s not how family works. We support each other.”

“Really? Funny how that support only ever seems to go one way.”

At that, my sister walked in. She took one look at the scene and immediately sensed the tension. “Everything okay here?”

A woman in her sister's house | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her sister’s house | Source: Midjourney

Brianna turned on her. “Who are you?”

“Her sister,” she replied with a sweet smile. “And you guys need to calm down. Otherwise, I can call the authorities.

Brianna’s face twisted with rage, and I braced myself for the onslaught of insults. Sure enough, she launched into a tirade about how I was “ruining” her son’s life, how I was a bad wife, and how my kids would grow up hating me.

But I didn’t flinch.

A woman standing in her kitchen, looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her kitchen, looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

They finally left a few minutes later, slamming the door behind them.

Later that day, Eric came home. I heard his footsteps before I saw him, and I could feel the tension as he stepped into the kitchen.

“So,” he began, his voice cold, “you insulted my mother and sister?”

I folded my arms. “I didn’t insult anyone. I told them they had no right to interfere in our marriage.”

Eric’s expression darkened. “You don’t love me. You don’t love the kids. You’ve changed.”

An upset man in his house | Source: Midjourney

An upset man in his house | Source: Midjourney

“I haven’t changed, Eric. I’ve grown up. There’s a difference.”

Our argument spiraled, going in circles until he finally exploded.

“Pack your things and leave,” he demanded, pointing to the door. “I can’t live with you anymore.”

I was stunned, but I didn’t argue. I packed my bags and stood at the door, ready to leave. But before I stepped out, I turned to him one last time.

A woman standing in the doorway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in the doorway | Source: Midjourney

“The kids are staying here,” I said. “Whichever parent stays in this house will be responsible for them. They’re not going anywhere.”

“Wait… what?” he asked. “That’s not happening.”

“You heard me,” I said calmly. “You wanted me gone, fine. But the kids stay.”

Then, I walked out with my sister without listening to anything else Eric had to say.

He tried calling me later, but it was too late.

Ultimately, Eric refused to take custody of the kids, and I filed for divorce.

A person signing a paper | Source: Pexels

A person signing a paper | Source: Pexels

In the end, I kept the house, got full custody, and received substantial child support payments. I’m glad I stood up for myself before it was too late. Do you think I did the right thing? Or did I go too far?

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My Neighbor Constantly Asked to Babysit Her Kid, but She Refused When I Once Asked Her to Look after Mine, So I Got Creative

My entitled neighbor expected free babysitting for months, but the one time I needed her? Radio silence. That’s when I realized kindness has limits. So, I got a little too creative and drew the line with a twist she never saw coming.

Motherhood is a beautiful journey, filled with ups and downs, laughter and tears. But what happens when someone sees your maternal instincts as an opportunity to exploit? When they assume that just because you’re a stay-at-home mom, you’re available 24/7 to be their personal, unpaid nanny? Hi there, I’m Annie, and boy, do I have a story for you…

Cheerful woman with a little boy | Source: Pexels

Cheerful woman with a little boy | Source: Pexels

Picture this: a quaint suburban neighborhood where tranquility reigns supreme. You know the kind? Pristine lawns, friendly waves from passing cars, and block parties that wrap up by 9 p.m. sharp.

That was my slice of paradise, quiet and drama-free. Until Hurricane Megan blew in next door.

From day one, Megan strutted around like she owned the place. Head held high, designer purse swinging, she was the walking definition of “extra.”

A woman smirking | Source: Midjourney

A woman smirking | Source: Midjourney

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve got nothing but respect for single moms. It’s a tough gig. But Megan? She wore her single mom status like a badge that entitled her to everyone’s time and energy. Especially mine.

Apparently, I was Megan’s personal target for FREE childcare.

“Hi there! I’m Megan,” she chirped, flashing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “And this is my daughter, Lily.”

I bounced my son Tommy perched on my shoulder. “Nice to meet you! I’m Annie, and this little guy is Tommy.”

A woman carrying a toddler on her shoulder | Source: Pexels

A woman carrying a toddler on her shoulder | Source: Pexels

Megan’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you’re home during the day? That’s fantastic! I’ve been looking for someone reliable to watch Lily. My work schedule is just crazy, you know!”

I felt a twinge of unease but pushed it aside. “Well, I’m usually pretty busy with Tommy, but if you need help in an emergency, I can try.”

Megan’s smile widened. “That’s so sweet of you! I’m sure we’ll be great friends.”

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

As she left little Lily with me and walked away, I turned to Tommy. “Well, buddy, looks like we’ve got new neighbors. What do you think?”

Tommy gurgled and reached for my hair. If only I’d known what I was getting myself into.

Weeks rolled by and I was at my wit’s end. Megan’s “emergencies” had become a near-daily occurrence.

Despite my growing unease, I brushed it off. We moms gotta stick together, right? But one favor turned into two, then ten, and then I lost count.

A little girl playing with a doll | Source: Pexels

A little girl playing with a doll | Source: Pexels

The doorbell rang, and I groaned. “Tommy, want to bet who that is?”

I opened the door to find Megan, perfectly coiffed, with Lily in tow. “Annie, you’re a lifesaver! I’ve got this important meeting. You can watch Lily, right?”

I hesitated. “Megan, I’ve got a lot on my plate today and I can’t—”

“It’ll just be a few hours,” she interrupted, already ushering Lily inside. “You’re the best!”

Before I could protest, she was gone, leaving me with two kids and a growing sense of frustration.

A woman holding a doorknob | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a doorknob | Source: Midjourney

Lily looked up at me with big eyes, holding a drawing of red and pink hearts. “Can we play dress-up, Annie?”

I sighed, forcing a smile. “Sure, sweetie. Let’s go find some costumes.”

As I watched the kids play, I couldn’t help but wonder how long I could keep this up.

A cheerful little girl holding a drawing | Source: Midjourney

A cheerful little girl holding a drawing | Source: Midjourney

Picture this: You’re knee-deep in diapers and alphabet songs, cherishing every moment with your little one. Then your neighbor knocks on the door again, flashing a smile and making the same monotonous request.

“Oh, Annie, would you be a sweetheart and babysit Lily for a few hours? I’m sure you wouldn’t mind watching her while I get my nails done.”

Spa days, shopping sprees, hair appointments… you name it, I was babysitting through it all. FOR FREE.

A woman flashing her nails | Source: Pexels

A woman flashing her nails | Source: Pexels

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love kids. But there’s a fine line between being neighborly and being a doormat. And folks, I was starting to feel like I had “Welcome” printed on my forehead.

The last straw came on a Tuesday. I was in the middle of a virtual doctor’s appointment when Megan burst in, Lily trailing behind her.

“Annie, emergency! I’ve got to run to the salon. Watch Lily, okay?”

I gaped at her, my doctor’s voice still coming through my earbuds. “Megan, I’m in the middle of—”

“Thanks, you’re a doll!” And just like that, she was gone.

An annoyed woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

I turned back to my screen, where my doctor looked confused. “Everything okay, Annie?”

I laughed humorlessly. “Just peachy. Now, where were we?”

That night, I vented to my husband, Dan. “I can’t believe her! She just assumes I’m always available.”

Dan frowned. “Honey, you need to set some boundaries. This isn’t fair to you or Tommy.”

“You’re right. Next time she asks, I’m putting my foot down.”

Little did I know, my chance would come sooner than expected.

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

The following week, Dan and I had a doctor’s appointment. I figured it was the perfect opportunity to ask Megan for a favor.

I knocked on her door, my hopes soaring. Megan answered, looking annoyed at the interruption.

“Hey, Megan. I hate to ask, but Dan and I have a doctor’s appointment. Could you watch Tommy for an hour? I’d really appreciate it.”

Megan’s face twisted. “Oh, Annie. I’m really not comfortable watching other people’s kids. It’s just… stressful, you know? And I need my ‘me time.’ You understand, right?”

I stood there, STUNNED. After everything I’d done for her, she couldn’t spare ONE HOUR?

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

“Sure! I understand completely.”

As I walked away, something inside me snapped. It was time for a little creative problem-solving.

My opportunity came a few days later when Megan knocked on my door, Lily in tow.

“Annie, I’ve got a hair appointment. You can watch Lily, right?”

I smiled sweetly. “Actually, Megan, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been meaning to tell you about my new babysitting business.”

Her eyes lit up. “Babysitting business?”

A surprised woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

A surprised woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

“Yep! I figured since I’m home anyway, why not make some extra money? And since we’re neighbors, I’d be happy to give you a discounted rate.”

Megan leaned in, intrigued. “That’s amazing! How much?”

“Well, normally I’d charge $20 an hour, but for you, let’s say $15.”

Her jaw dropped. “Fifteen dollars an hour? That’s insane! I can’t afford that!”

A woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

A woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

I shrugged, feigning sympathy. “I know, childcare is so expensive these days. That’s why it’s important to find people willing to help out. Don’t you think?”

Megan’s face reddened. “I’ll figure something out.”

As she stormed off, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. The tables had finally turned.

Over the next few weeks, I fully embraced my role as a “professional” babysitter. Every time Megan asked for a favor, I responded with mock invoices and rate sheets.

A woman holding an invoice | Source: Pexels

A woman holding an invoice | Source: Pexels

One afternoon, she came to pick up Lily ten minutes late. I greeted her with a smile and a piece of paper.

“Here’s your invoice, Megan. Don’t forget the late pick-up fee!”

She snatched the paper, her face contorting with rage. “This is ridiculous! You’re nothing but a greedy witch!”

I raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

A woman arguing | Source: Midjourney

A woman arguing | Source: Midjourney

“You have no right to charge me after all the times I’ve done favors for you!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “FAVORS? Like the time I asked you to watch Tommy for one hour and you said you weren’t comfortable watching other people’s kids?”

“That’s… that’s different! I’m a single mom. I’m busy!”

“And I’m a stay-at-home mom running a business,” I countered. “We’re all busy, Megan.”

She grabbed Lily’s hand and stormed off, leaving me feeling both guilty and oddly empowered.

A woman holding a little girl's hand | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a little girl’s hand | Source: Pexels

Word of my “babysitting business” spread quickly through the neighborhood. I hadn’t planned on it, but soon other moms came to me with their Megan stories.

Chelsea, another neighbor, caught me at the mailbox. “Annie, you’re a genius! I started charging Megan too, and suddenly she stopped asking me to watch Lily.”

I laughed. “Really? I thought I was the only one.”

Chelsea shook her head. “Oh no, she’s been trying this with everyone. But now? She can’t find anyone to help her for free anymore.”

Two women talking to each other | Source: Midjourney

Two women talking to each other | Source: Midjourney

As we chatted, I saw Megan pull into her driveway. She glared at us before slamming her car door and stomping inside.

I turned to Chelsea. “I almost feel bad.”

“Don’t! She needed to learn she can’t take advantage of people.”

I nodded, watching Megan’s house. “I guess you’re right.”

A woman stepping out of a car | Source: Pexels

A woman stepping out of a car | Source: Pexels

Weeks passed, and I hardly saw Megan anymore. The constant knocking had stopped, and an eerie quiet settled over our little corner of the neighborhood.

One evening, as I was watering my front garden, I saw her struggling with groceries. For a moment, I considered offering help. Then I remembered all the times she’d left me in the lurch.

“Some people need to carry the heavy weight of their actions!” I muttered and turned around, ignoring her.

Side view of a woman seeing somewhere | Source: Midjourney

Side view of a woman seeing somewhere | Source: Midjourney

Megan soon found herself in a bind. Every time she asked for help babysitting, she was met with either a rate card or a “Sorry, I’m just too busy!”

Frustrated, she realized she couldn’t rely on “FREE” favors anymore and had to pay for a professional sitter.

So, there you have it, folks. Was it petty? Perhaps a bit. Was it satisfying? Absolutely! But sometimes, the best revenge is learning to communicate effectively and set healthy boundaries. Have you ever dealt with an entitled neighbor? How did you handle the situation? Share your stories in the comments!

An extremely frustrated woman | Source: Midjourney

An extremely frustrated woman | Source: Midjourney

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