When Candace offered to host my kids for a week of summer fun at her mansion, I was grateful. With a pool, trampoline, and her daughter Mikayla for company, it sounded like paradise. I even sent each child with $150 and gave Mikayla the same to keep things fair. But by day four, I got a chilling message from my daughter: “Mom, come save us.”
Racing over, I found my son scrubbing pool tiles and my daughter dragging trash, while Mikayla relaxed with juice. A clipboard listed chores like scrubbing bathrooms and making lemonade for Mikayla’s guests—chores required for cartoon time and pool access.
My kids weren’t helping willingly; they’d been threatened with sleeping in the garage if they refused.
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