

When Irene’s son, Ben, enters their house looking frustrated, she demands to know why. As the boy begins to speak, she realizes that their smug neighbor refused to pay Ben for the month of car washing he did for this man. Will this mother take matters into her own hands?
I sensed something was wrong when Ben walked through the door that Friday night. He was dragging his feet, and the usual sparkle in his eyes was nowhere to be seen.
His hands were still wet, probably from washing another car, and he avoided eye contact by sinking into the couch.

A frustrated little boy | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, kid, what’s going on?” I asked from the kitchen.
I had planned to make him his favorite grilled chicken and mashed potatoes for dinner. I would have his plate ready as soon as he came in.
But looking at him now, I was worried. Ben was only 14, but he had recently developed a taste for earning money and wanted to be independent.

Plates of food | Source: Midjourney
“Come on,” I said, wiping my hands. “You can tell me anything!”
For a second, he didn’t respond but stared at the ground. My heart sank when I saw the frustration etched on his face.
It was as if he was trying to find the words but didn’t know how to get them out.

Close-up of a little boy | Source: Midjourney
“He… he didn’t pay me,” Ben finally muttered.
“What do you mean? Didn’t Mr. Peterson agree to pay you $50 every time you washed his car?” I asked, feeling my eyebrows furrow.
Ben let out a sigh that seemed far too heavy for a 14-year-old.
“Yes, but today, after I finished washing his car for the fourth time this month, he said it wasn’t ‘spotless’ and that I wouldn’t get paid. He said I should have done a better job if I wanted my money.”

An upset boy | Source: Midjourney
I felt my fists clench. Mr. Peterson, our pretentious neighbor who always had something to say, strutted around in his suits, making sure everyone noticed the shine of his precious black Jeep.
“It’s a beautiful car, isn’t it?” he asked, leaning out of his car. “Breathtaking!”
A few months ago, he became interested in Ben, especially after seeing Ben wash my car.
“Whoa! You did a great job with your mom’s car, Ben! How about washing my car every Friday? I’ll pay you, of course!”

A Jeep parked in a driveway | Source: Midjourney
At first I thought it was a compliment, but now I saw what it really was:
A way to exploit cheap labor.
“You’ve been washing this car every week this month, haven’t you?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
Ben nodded, sinking further into the couch.

Close-up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, I spent about three hours over the last four weeks just to make sure it was clean. I even used the handheld vacuum to clean under the seats and everything else. But he said I didn’t deserve to be paid.”
A surge of anger washed over me.
I knew Ben had done an excellent job. Every time he worked on our car, he always impressed me. And anyway, Mr. Peterson’s car shone like a show model when my son was finished with it.

A frustrated boy | Source: Midjourney
It wasn’t about the cleanliness of the car. No. It was about Mr. Peterson being a jerk.
And now ?
Now Ben feels like his hard work is worthless.
“How much should he give you?” I asked him.
Ben thought for a moment.

A man in a suit | Source: Midjourney
“Four washes, Mom. So, $200.”
I took out my wallet and counted out $200 in crisp bills. I handed them to him, watching his eyes widen in surprise.
“Well, you deserve it, my dear.”
“Mom, you don’t have to do this. Mr. Peterson was supposed to pay me!” he exclaimed.
I shook my head, cutting him off.

A woman taking money out of her wallet | Source: Midjourney
“I’m not done with Mr. Peterson, darling. He has no right to treat you like this and walk away.”
Ben looked uncertain, his eyes flickering from the money in his hand to me.
“But, Mom!”
“No ‘buts,’ Ben,” I said, putting away my wallet. “Trust me, I’m going to teach Mr. Peterson a lesson on what happens when you take advantage of someone’s hard work. Now come on, let’s eat. I’m starving!”
Ben smiled and sat down at the table.

A smiling boy | Source: Midjourney
“Thanks, Mom,” he said, smiling.
The next morning, I woke up with a plan. Mr. Peterson had no idea what was coming. I glanced out the window, and sure enough, there he was, standing in his silk pajamas, meticulously polishing his Jeep like a man obsessed with the art of cleaning.
I smiled and headed outside, casually walking towards him in my yoga clothes.
“Hello, Mr. Peterson!” I greeted cheerfully.

A man standing next to a Jeep in his pajamas | Source: Midjourney
He looked up from his car, his usual smug expression already in place.
“Hello, Irene,” he said to me. “What can I do for you? But hurry, I’m having brunch with my family soon.”
I could have rolled my eyes.
“Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to check in on Ben’s payment for washing your car,” I said. “He mentioned that you weren’t happy with his work yesterday.”

Close-up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
Mr. Peterson straightened his back and crossed his arms.
“Yes, that’s true, Irene. The car wasn’t spotless, so I didn’t think it was worth paying him. It’s a learning experience, you know? Besides, he’s a young boy.”
The anger from the day before flared up again, but I kept a neutral face, even smiled a little.
“A learning experience, huh?” I said. “Interesting. Ben did tell me you were a man of your word… and he mentioned that you agreed to pay him $50 per wash, no matter how spotless it was. And how would you know that! I have the pictures he took of the car after every wash.”

A man standing next to a Jeep | Source: Midjourney
The smugness in his expression cracked a little.
“Pictures?” Mr. Peterson asked.
“Yes, photos. He liked to send them to his grandfather after every wash. He’s very proud of his work.”
Mr. Peterson grunted.
“And anyway, it seems to me that a verbal agreement was reached. And breaking it? Well, that’s a breach of contract, isn’t it? Should I talk to my lawyer about this?”

A woman frowning | Source: Midjourney
His face drained of color.
“There’s no point in going that far!” he exclaimed.
I raised my hand.
“Oh, I think so. You see, Ben has worked hard, and you’re trying to rob him of what he’s earned. So, here’s the deal. You pay my son the $200 today, or I’ll make sure everyone in this neighborhood knows how you treat the children who work for you.”

A close-up of a man | Source: Midjourney
He stared at me.
“And if that doesn’t convince you, I’m more than happy to take legal action,” I continued.
I could see panic settling on his features now. The neighbor with the perfect lawn and Jeep was suddenly sweating profusely in his silk pajamas.
He opened the car door and fumbled for his wallet, quickly counting the money.

A Man’s Wallet | Source: Midjourney
“Here’s your money,” he muttered, holding out $200 in crumpled bills.
“Great. It was good doing business with you,” I said with a smile. “But please understand that my son will never touch one of your cars again.”
He nodded grimly.
Inside, Ben looked up from the couch when I walked in. He had a bowl of cereal in his hands, and his eyes widened when I handed him the money.

A boy holding a bowl of cereal | Source: Midjourney
“You really did it!” he exclaimed.
I smiled, I felt great pride.
“Nobody messes with my son,” I said. “Especially when they think they can get away with not paying what’s owed. Next time, if someone tries to pull something like that, you’ll know exactly how to handle it.”
“Does that mean I have to give you back the $200?” he smiled.

A smiling boy | Source: Midjourney
“No,” I said, laughing. “But I think you could invite me on a mother-son lunch date today?”
“Deal, Mom,” he replied.
Later, as we sat in a lovely bistro, Ben leaned back in his chair, squinting at the sign of the ice cream parlor across the street.
“We’re looking for help,” he read. “What do you think, Mom? A weekend job at an ice cream shop?”

A mother-son duo in a bistro | Source: Midjourney
“Go ahead,” I said with a laugh, shoveling my burger into my mouth. “But if the boss is mean, you know who to call.”
My son smiled at me and nodded slowly before taking a fry.
What would you have done?

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
If you liked this story, here’s another one for you |
I made my boss regret humiliating my wife in front of everyone at the office
When Colin and his wife, Alice, find themselves working for the same company for Mr. Taylor, they think they’ve gotten a good deal while indulging their passions. But after a mistake at work, Alice is ridiculed in front of everyone, prompting Colin to seek revenge. When the couple loses their jobs, Colin must fight for revenge…
Working as a driver for the owner of a modest business was never the dream, but it paid the bills. If I were to be honest, I’d tell you that what I always wanted to do was own my own construction company, but life often has funny ways of doing things.

A smiling man dressed as a driver | Source: Midjourney
The good thing about being a chauffeur was that I got to go to some fancy places and work alongside my wife, Alice. We had met years ago, long before either of us ended up working at the same place. But when Alice got the job as Mr. Taylor’s personal assistant, she dropped off my resume.
“It’ll be fine, Colin,” she said to me one evening when we were making pasta for dinner.
“He needs a personal driver, and you can do that. Neither of us has to stay there forever, but the pay is pretty good for now. So, until something better comes along, we’ll have to make do.”

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“I know,” I agreed.
Read the full story here .
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the story. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims regarding the accuracy of events or character portrayals and are not responsible for any misinterpretations. This story is provided “as is,” and all opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the opinions of the author or publisher.
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