My sister Daphna has two adorable boys — ages six and three — and for the longest time, I loved being the “cool aunt.”
But lately, being the cool aunt turned into being the unpaid, full-time babysitter.
It started last summer when Daphna’s daycare closed unexpectedly. I work from home, so I told her,
“Hey, I can help for a few days until things settle down.”
Big mistake.
By the next week, “a few days” had become every single morning — 5:40 a.m. sharp.
The first time, I was still half-asleep when the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find my nephews in pajamas, clutching toy dinosaurs, their mom already speeding down the street yelling, “You’re a lifesaver!”
No instructions. No warning. No respect for my time.
And it never stopped.
Every morning: doorbell, two boys, and me trying to balance childcare with work deadlines. I barely got through meetings without one of them screaming about cereal or crayons.
When I finally told Daphna, “This isn’t sustainable. I can’t keep watching the kids like this,” she just laughed and said,
“Oh, come on. You’re single — your schedule’s flexible.”
That sentence echoed in my head for days. As if being single meant my time wasn’t valuable.
Then came Friday — the breaking point.
At 5:20 a.m., the doorbell rang again. I opened it to see the boys, sleepy-eyed and holding overnight bags. Daphna stood there in sunglasses, suitcase in hand.
“You’re a lifesaver,” she said again, breezing past me. “We’re off for a romantic weekend — see you Sunday!”
Sunday.
That’s when I decided: enough.
I didn’t text her. I didn’t argue. I just picked up my phone, packed the kids’ bags, and called her husband.
When he answered, confused, I said,
“Hey, just wanted to let you know — the boys are safe. But your wife didn’t mention where you two were going for the weekend.”
A long pause. Then his voice — sharp, angry.
“Weekend? I’m at work.”
The fallout was… dramatic.
Daphna showed up hours later, furious, accusing me of “ruining everything.” But I stood my ground.
“No, Daphna. I just gave you back the responsibility you’ve been dumping on me.”
She hasn’t dropped the kids off unannounced since.
Sometimes, family takes advantage of love.
And sometimes, love means saying no — even if it hurts.
