My Jobless Son-in-Law Spent $1000 on Massages, Leaving My Pregnant Daughter with No Money, So I Stepped In

My Jobless Son-in-Law Spent $1000 on Massages, Leaving My Pregnant Daughter with No Money, So I Stepped In

When my pregnant daughter Jane discovered her credit card maxed out on her jobless husband Mark’s indulgent massages, her world collapsed. Determined to teach him a lesson, I took him on a weekend trip he wouldn’t forget, turning expected leisure into a grueling wake-up call about responsibility.

It was a quiet Saturday morning when my phone rang. I saw my daughter Jane’s name on the screen and answered quickly.

“Dad, I can’t take it anymore,” she sobbed.

The father picks up the phone | Source: Midjourney

The father picks up the phone | Source: Midjourney

“Jane, calm down. What’s going on?” I asked, feeling a knot of worry tighten in my stomach.

“It’s Mark,” she cried. “He stole my credit card and maxed it out… on massages!”

My blood boiled. “He did what? While you’re working full-time and pregnant?”

“Yes,” she cried. “I went to buy baby essentials, and the cashier told me my card was declined. I checked my statement, and there it was—four charges of $250 each. All for his massages.”

Crying woman talks on her phone | Source: Pexels

Crying woman talks on her phone | Source: Pexels

I felt a surge of anger. How could he be so selfish? “I’ll be over there in an hour,” I said, grabbing my keys.

As I drove to Jane’s apartment, I reflected on everything she’d been through. A few months ago, she told me about Mark losing his job. They had to move from their beautiful home into a small apartment.

Jane had sold many of their possessions, including her jewelry, just to make ends meet. She was working full-time despite being pregnant. I couldn’t fathom how Mark could be so irresponsible.

A small apartment | Source: Pexels

A small apartment | Source: Pexels

When I arrived, Jane was still in tears. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked exhausted. “He’s out, probably getting another massage,” she said bitterly.

I sat her down on the couch. “We need to talk. Tell me everything.”

She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ve been working so hard, Dad. I thought he’d stop the massages, but he refused. He says they help with his ‘stress.’ But what about my stress, Dad? I’m the one working full-time while pregnant!”

Young blond woman cries | Source: Pexels

Young blond woman cries | Source: Pexels

My heart ached for her. “You’re right. This has to stop. I have an idea, but it’s going to be tough.”

Jane looked at me, desperation in her eyes. “I’ll do anything. I just can’t keep living like this.”

“Alright,” I said, determination setting in. “We’ll teach him a lesson he won’t forget.”

Jane wiped her eyes again. “What are you planning?”

Father hatches a plan | Source: Midjourney

Father hatches a plan | Source: Midjourney

“I’ll take him to the family cottage,” I said. “He thinks it’ll be a relaxing weekend, but I’ve got some hard work lined up for him. It’s time he understands what real stress and hard work are like.”

Jane looked hopeful but still uncertain. “You really think it’ll work?”

“I do,” I said firmly. “He needs to learn the value of money and the importance of supporting his family. This might just be the wake-up call he needs.”

Jane nodded slowly. “Okay, Dad. I trust you.”

Close-up shot of a crying woman

Close-up shot of a crying woman

I hugged her tightly. “It’s going to be alright, Jane. We’ll get through this together. Mark needs to understand that he can’t keep living like this. It’s time for a change.”

She sighed. “I hope you’re right.”

I patted her back reassuringly. “I know I am. Now, let’s get this plan in motion.”

We spent the next hour discussing the details. Jane showed me the credit card statements, and we talked about how to confront Mark. I left feeling more determined than ever to help my daughter and set things right. The plan was set, and I was ready to take action.

Jane discusses the plan with her father | Source: Midjourney

Jane discusses the plan with her father | Source: Midjourney

When we arrived at the cottage, Mark stepped out of the car, looking relaxed. “This place is great,” he said, stretching. “I could use a weekend to unwind.”

I gave a short laugh. “Not so fast, Mark. I’ve got a different plan for this weekend.”

Mark frowned. “What do you mean?”

Cottage by the lake | Source: Pexels

Cottage by the lake | Source: Pexels

I handed him a list. “Here’s what you’ll be doing: repairing the roof, fixing the fence, and painting the walls, mowing the lawn. It’s time you learned what hard work feels like.”

Mark’s jaw dropped. “What? I thought we were here to relax!”

“Consider this your wake-up call,” I said sternly. “You need to understand the value of hard work and what Jane goes through every day.”

Mark grumbled but reluctantly agreed. “Fine, but I’m not happy about this.”

Man writing a list | Source: Pexels

Man writing a list | Source: Pexels

The first task was repairing the roof. Mark climbed up, and I could see he was already struggling. “This is harder than it looks,” he muttered.

“Welcome to real work,” I replied. “Keep going.”

Next, we moved on to fixing the fence. Mark’s frustration grew as he struggled with the tools. “I don’t know how to do this,” he snapped.

Man mows the lawn | Source: Pexels

Man mows the lawn | Source: Pexels

“Figure it out,” I said. “Jane had to figure out how to support both of you while pregnant.”

Mark’s face flushed with anger, but he kept working. As the hours passed, his movements slowed, and he became visibly exhausted. Sweat dripped down his face, and his hands were blistered.

“You wanted to relax, right?” I said, watching him paint the walls with shaky hands. “This is what it means to be responsible.”

Tired man sits on the bench | Source: Pexels

Tired man sits on the bench | Source: Pexels

By the end of the first day, Mark collapsed on the couch, barely able to move. “This is too much,” he said, his voice weak.

“Too much?” I replied. “Jane does this every day, but with a baby growing inside her.”

The next morning, I woke Mark up at dawn. “Time to get back to work,” I said.

Mark groaned but got up. The second day was even tougher. We worked from sunrise to sunset, repairing the roof, fixing the fence, and painting the walls. I made sure Mark did every task thoroughly.

Painting walls | Source: Pexels

Painting walls | Source: Pexels

By the evening, Mark was exhausted. He barely spoke, focusing all his energy on the work. I could see the physical and emotional toll it was taking on him.

On the final day, I sat Mark down. He looked defeated. “I can’t believe how hard this is,” he said quietly.

I handed him an envelope. “Open it,” I said.

An envelope with money | Source: Pexels

An envelope with money | Source: Pexels

He looked confused but obeyed. Inside was a check for $1000. “What’s this?” he asked, bewildered.

“Your payment for the work you’ve done,” I explained. “It’s the money you spent on massages. Now, use it to pay Jane back.”

Mark’s eyes widened. “I… I don’t understand.”

Shocked man looks at a document | Source: Pexels

Shocked man looks at a document | Source: Pexels

I leaned forward. “Mark, you’ve been living off my daughter’s hard-earned money while indulging in luxuries you can’t afford. She’s pregnant, working full-time, and trying to save for your baby. It’s time you start taking responsibility. You needed a massage for your stress? Now you know what real stress and hard work feel like. Use this money to pay Jane back and start being the partner she deserves.”

Mark’s face turned red with a mix of embarrassment and realization. He quietly took the check and nodded. “Thank you, sir. I understand now.”

Embarrassed Mark takes the check | Source: Midjourney

Embarrassed Mark takes the check | Source: Midjourney

When we returned home, Mark handed the check to Jane and apologized sincerely. “I’m so sorry, Jane,” he said, his voice breaking. “I promise to find a job and contribute more to the household. I’ll take over some of the chores to ease your burden.”

Jane looked at him, tears in her eyes, but nodded. “Thank you, Mark. That means a lot.”

Crying woman hugs her husband | Source: Pexels

Crying woman hugs her husband | Source: Pexels

Over the next few weeks, Mark kept his promise. He found part-time work and took on more responsibilities at home. The experience at the cottage had changed him, teaching him the value of hard work and the importance of supporting his family.

And as for me, I knew I had done the right thing, not just for Jane, but for their future family. Sometimes, a tough lesson is necessary to bring about real change.

Waitress Was Flirting with My Husband and He Went along with It – I Taught Them a Good Lesson Later

Jenny has been married to Mark for eight years, with their relationship facing its ups and downs. But when Mark openly flirts with another woman in front of her, Jenny starts to play by his games. When she arranges a dinner with the new woman, both of them are floored to find that Mark is seeing a third woman as well.

“I heard you’re single now,” my sister said, giving me a box of chocolates and flopping onto the couch beside me.

A box of chocolates | Source: Midjourney

A box of chocolates | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah,” I said. “After eight years of being married to Mark, it’s finally over.”

“How? What happened?” she asked, sipping her tea.

“It’s either my husband thought that I was very stupid or he chose to be anything but a decent human.”

Want to know what happened next? Click here to read the rest of the story!

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.

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