My husband and I have always been supportive of Tyler and Brittany. We helped when they bought their first house, chipped in for their wedding, and, of course, spent plenty of time babysitting their two little ones. But last weekend? That was the final straw.

It started with an invitation to a **barbecue.**

“We’d love to have you over!” Brittany had chirped over the phone. “Just a little get-together, nothing fancy.”

So, naturally, my husband and I showed up on time, expecting grilled burgers, some cold lemonade, and good conversation.

Instead, we walked into a **party that was already over.**

People were grabbing their bags, laughing, and saying their goodbyes. The food was mostly gone, a few paper plates scattered across the patio. And then, as if this were the most natural thing in the world, **Tyler** dropped the bombshell.

“Oh! So, we’re all going out. **You guys can stay and watch the kids.**”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, and not just our kids,” Brittany added. “A couple of our friends had to run some errands, so their kids are here too. You don’t mind, right?”

**Mind?!**

There were five kids in total, all under the age of ten, staring up at us with sticky fingers and mischievous grins. **We had been played.**

Before I could even protest, they were **already out the door.**

I turned to my husband. His expression mirrored mine—**pure, absolute outrage.**

“This is ridiculous,” I hissed.

He nodded. “We shouldn’t just silently accept this.”

And that’s when it hit me.

“Oh,” I whispered, a slow grin spreading across my face. “I have an idea.”

### **The Payback Plan**

We **babysat** the kids—**but not the way Tyler and Brittany expected.**

For the next few hours, we made sure they had **the time of their lives.** We gave them **chocolate** and **ice cream.** We cranked up the music and had a **dance party.** We let them **jump on the couch** and **build pillow forts** in the living room. We even **handed them washable markers** and let them draw on cardboard boxes, pretending they were artists.

By the time **Tyler and Brittany returned,** their perfect home looked like a **tornado had hit it.**

The kids were WIRED—hyped up on **sugar, energy, and excitement.**

Tyler’s face paled. “What the—”

“OH, YOU’RE BACK!” I beamed. “Hope you had a GREAT time out. **We sure did!**”

Brittany stepped over a pile of stuffed animals, eyes wide. “You let them eat THIS much candy?”

“Well, we figured if we’re babysitting for free, we might as well **make it fun.**” My husband clapped his hands together. “Oh, and speaking of! **We’re heading out now.**”

I grabbed my purse, my husband grabbed his keys, and we made a beeline for the door.

Brittany’s jaw dropped. “Wait! **You can’t just leave us with this mess!**”

I turned, smiling sweetly. **“Why not? You left us with yours.”**

Tyler tried to argue, but we were already out the door.

That was the **last** time they tried to trick us into babysitting.