teach her a lesson. The very next morning, as expected, she texted me: “Can you take Emily to school today? I have an early meeting. Thanks!”
Perfect. I replied, “Sure, Karen. No problem!”
But instead of heading directly to the school, I took a detour. I drove Emily and Sophie to a nearby coffee shop, where we enjoyed pastries and hot chocolate for a relaxed half-hour. I wanted to show Karen that my time had value too—and that I wasn’t her personal chauffeur.
After our little breakfast break, I checked the time and realized we’d be cutting it close to the school’s start time. I dropped Emily off just in time, watching her rush into the school to make it before the bell.
Later that day, Karen texted me, asking why Emily had almost been late. I casually replied, “Oh, sorry about that! We made a quick stop for breakfast. Since I was doing you a favor, I thought I’d treat the girls.”
Her response was quick and clearly irritated: “Emily almost missed her first class! Next time, please just go straight to the school.”
I replied, “Of course, Karen! And just so you know, next time I’ll need you to help with gas or trade favors. Seems fair, right?”
She didn’t reply, but the message was clear. After that, the daily requests stopped, and Karen learned that relying on someone’s kindness requires a little mutual respect. From then on, I enjoyed quieter mornings with just my daughter, no longer the neighborhood chauffeur.