The note on my kitchen counter changed everything: “$3,360 due for childcare services rendered.”
My mother-in-law Marsha had spent years doting on Liam—until she decided her grandmotherly duties deserved a paycheck. When I refused, she doubled down: “Professional nannies don’t work for free.”
So I professionalized our relationship.
I created timesheets. Scheduled shifts. Even instituted a formal hiring process. “Miss Marsha” received her first paycheck—along with strict boundaries. No more dropping by unannounced. No more unsolicited parenting advice.
The money didn’t comfort her when Liam stopped climbing into her lap. It didn’t fill the silence at family dinners. And it certainly didn’t replace what she’d really lost—her place in our family.
The turning point came when she returned every penny with an apology written in tear stains. Now we both understand: some roles can’t be bought or sold. Being Nana is priceless.
