When my brother and I overheard Dad calling Mom “lazy” and making fun of her cooking, we knew we couldn’t let it go. What began as an innocent Christmas gift list quickly turned into a brilliant plan to teach him a lesson he’d never forget.
I never imagined I’d say this, but this past Christmas felt like a scene straight out of a sitcom—only the kind that makes you wince before you laugh.
My name’s Emma. I’m fourteen, and my life is a whirlwind of school assignments, eye rolls from my sixteen-year-old brother, Jake, and trying to keep my Converse clean in a house that’s pristine only because Mom practically runs it like a one-woman cleaning crew.
