“You Wanted HimYou Look After Him”
“Mum, you had him for yourselves, not for me, so you deal with little Jamie. I need my sleep before uni.”
“Oliver, I dont ask often. Just this oncetake him to school. Its his first day, and all the other kids will be with their parents…”
“Exactlywith their parents,” Oliver cut in. “Where were mine at my assemblies? Always busy with the baby. Let him go alonewont kill him.”
“It wasnt always! Only a couple of times. We didnt plan it like that…”
“Well, now its like that again. Hell manage,” Oliver said calmly, sipping his tea.
Emma was stunned. She hadnt expected such pushback. After all, they fed and clothed him, and yet he refused to lift a finger for the family.
“Right,” she said, frowning. “You live under this roof, Oliver. That means pulling your weight. Your dad and I help youallowance, meals, cleaning your room, for heavens sake. The least you can do is return the favour.”
“I never asked you to tidy my room. And I dont need your pocket money. Im eighteennot a kid, and not a babysitter. My opinion should count for something.”
With that, Oliver grabbed his mug and stalked off to his room, leaving Emma alone with a sinking feeling. Worse than the unresolved problem was the gnawing thought that her son had turned selfish.
When had that happened?
Her first marriage had been a disaster. Olivers father never grew upmore interested in lounging, gaming, and scrolling than building a family. The odd job he did scrape together barely covered his own expenses. Eventually, Emma gave up, divorced him, and moved back in with her mum.
When she married Daniel five years later, Oliver was just old enough to accept a new father figure. Daniel bonded with him quickly, becoming “Dad” in no time.
Then Jamie was born when Oliver was ten. That, Emma realised too late, was when things started unravelling.
That year, Oliver went to his first-day assembly alone. Postpartum exhaustion left Emma in no state to go, Daniel was working, and the grandparents were either miles away or busy at their cottage.
“Ollie, love, Im so sorry… Youre a big boy now, youll manage, wont you?” shed asked guiltily. “Id love to be there, but you see how it is…”
“I see,” hed sighed. “Its fine. Im not a kid.”
Back then, Emma thought nothing of it. Hed gone without complaint. But hed remembered.
Three years later, it happened againthis time because Jamie caught a bug at nursery.
Jamie was always ill. Once, he brought home chickenpox just days before Olivers class trip to London. Oliver had to stay home, fuming as Emma dabbed calamine lotion on his spots.
“Mum, I get it, but Im sick of getting sick. Cant you quarantine him or something?”
“Oliver, were a family. Where he goes, I go. And Ive got meals to make, chores to do… We cant live in separate bubbles.”
Part of her understood. Every time Jamie fell ill, Oliver caught it too. But what choice did they have?
Soon, Oliver started resisting chores or helping with Jamieat first with excuses, then outright refusals. Emma chalked it up to teenage stroppiness, even when rows erupted.
“Why should I vacuum the lounge? Im never in there. Thats you and Jamies messyou clean it.”
“But you use the kitchen,” she shot back. “And who cleans that? Me. Who cooks? Also me.”
“You wipe up every crumb. If I lived alone, I wouldnt bother. You want it spotlessyou do it.”
Sometimes she forced him to help. Sometimes she let it slidepeace was worth more. And now?
No one could take Jamie to school. Grandparents were too far, Daniel was away, and Emma couldnt get time off work. Oliver, free all day, flat-out refused.
What now?
First, she called Daniel.
“So he wants to play grown-up? Fine. Ill talk to him. Let him try living without Mum, pick up my parcel or Dad, give me a lift,” Daniel grumbled.
“Dont go nuclear,” Emma fretted. “Were losing him as it is. Push too hard, and hell bolt.”
“Let him. See how he manages without us.”
Daniel wasnt wrong, but Emma dreaded his stubbornness. He loved Oliver but wouldnt hesitate to lay down the law.
Luckily, her friend Sophiewhose son went to the same schoolstepped in, taking Jamie to assembly and even treating the kids to ice cream afterwards. Not the same as having his parents, but better than nothing.
“Soph, youre a lifesaver,” Emma gushed later. “Come round for tea?”
“Dont sweat it. Youve fetched my lad plenty. Mums gotta stick together,” Sophie smiled.
Over tea, Emma confided her worries. At twenty-six, Sophie wasnt much older than Oliver and remembered teen rebellion well.
“Honestly? I get him,” Sophie admitted. “I was always roped into looking after my sisters. Youre leaning on him too hard. Scrubbing floors means nothing to him while hes under your roof. And Jamie? Sorry, but you did have him for yourselves… But I get you too. Family should help.”
“Im not nagging! I just want things fair.”
“Fair to you is chores. To him, its pointless naggingsame as Jamie. I was the same. Youve got two choices: cut off all help and let him fend for himself, or give him space. Rent him a flat nearby. Let him taste real life.”
“What if he drops out? Or vanishes?”
“Risk either way. If he bolts, hell bolt. I married young to escape my folks. Worked outno time for grudges. Id go with option two.”
After Daniel returned, they did just thatrenting Oliver a flat two streets over for two months, stocked with groceries and clean sheets.
“Right. Kicking me out to prove a point,” Oliver muttered, but took the keys. “You know I cant afford this on my student budget.”
“Were not kicking you out,” Daniel said firmly. “Youre our son. But if you wont live with us, you visit as a guest.”
“Who said I dont want to live with you?”
“Living together means give and take. Weve paid two months rent and left food. After that? Your call. Teamwork or solo.”
Oliver grumbled but packed his bags. For a month, he barely spokejust short answers to Emmas calls. She only knew he was home by his lit window.
Then, slowly, he reached out. How to clean the oven. Best washing powder. Once, how to make soup. Emma seized the chance, showed him, fed him, and sent him home with groceries.
“We miss you,” she said at the door.
He didnt reply. Just hugged her tight.
By month three, the rent ran out. When Oliver asked to talk, Emma braced for the worst.
“I want to come home,” he said. “But on fair terms. Jamies your responsibility, not mine.”
A year ago, shed have argued. Now, she saw his point. He had a right to boundariesbut not a free pass.
“Hes your brother,” Daniel huffed.
“Boys, enough,” Emma cut in. “Jamies ours. If Oliver wont help with him, fine. But chores are non-negotiable.”
Oliver scowled, then nodded.
“Deal. You vacuum weekly, mop the hall every other day, dust the lounge monthly. Your rooms yourswe wont touch it. And wash your own dishes.”
The tension melted. Oliver grinned.
“Deal. Ill even cook sometimes. Easier than solo.”
That night, they ate togetherjust mashed potatoes and burgers, but to Emma, it tasted like heaven. No resentment, just family.
*Hes finally grown up*, she thought. And realisedshe had too. They were learning, bit by bit, to listen. To compromise. To bend, not break.
