“Should we clean it?” Jackson once asked, peering under the sink at our cleaning supplies.
“No, honey,” I replied. “It’s something Nate and his mom need to sort out.”
Imagine my shock when a $500 fine for the drawings was attached to my door!
“What the actual hell is this?” I muttered.
The notice accused Jackson of the vandalism.
“Vandalism? But it’s just a child’s imagination!” I exclaimed.
After everything we did for Stacy, this was her repayment? Furious, I confronted her, hoping it was a misunderstanding.
“Well, Caitlin, you were supposed to watch him while he was in the hallway. Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?” Stacy’s response was shocking.
“The nerve!” I thought. “You just wanted someone to babysit because you were too busy.”
But I refused to let this go. I hatched a plan.
I cleaned the walls quietly one night.
The next day, I let Nate in as usual. “Go have fun, be an artist again!” I encouraged him.
His eyes lit up, not realizing the setup.
“Mom, really?” Jackson chuckled.
“Yes, I need to show Stacy how to actually parent. You do your homework, and later we’ll make pizza and watch a movie, okay?”
“Deal!” he agreed, scampering off.
As planned, Nate redecorated the hallway. I filmed everything, capturing his solo art session.
After he finished, we enjoyed our pizza.
The next day, I showed the building manager the new video, feigning dismay.
“Can you believe this, Thomas? It’s even worse this time,” I said, showing him the footage.
He was appalled. “This is unacceptable,” he muttered, promising immediate action.
The management later confronted Stacy with the evidence, transferring the fine to her and issuing a stern warning about supervising her child.
I didn’t stop there. In the laundry room, I shared the story, ensuring all neighbors knew of Stacy’s negligence.
“Did you hear about Stacy? She tried to shift blame for her kid’s mess,” neighbors gossiped.
“I know, right! Some people just don’t care,” another added.
Hearing their disdain was a small victory. Stacy’s reputation suffered, and she began to watch Nate more closely, no longer letting him roam unsupervised.
One day, I encountered a tired, remorseful Stacy in the hallway.
“I didn’t realize… I mean, I should have…” she started to apologize.
“Just watch Nate closely. He’s a great kid,” I interrupted, not interested in excuses.
She nodded, managing a weak smile.
What would you have done in my place?
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