Mom Called Me Selfish, Forced Me to Mind Eight Nephews

1: 1

The people doing my background check for the civil-service job left just yesterday. I told them you were selfish and had a bad character, so you probably didn't pass this time either.

You weren't going to pass anyway. All you need to do is take good care of the kids.

Your sister's a good daughter. She and your brother signed me up for a summer family tour package.

I was shaking with rage. "Mom! I've failed the exam three years in a rowdo you not know why?"

The first year, during the online video interview, my oldest nephew knocked over my water glass and fried my computer, and the interview was cut off.

The second year, she said there was an emergency at home and dumped all eight kids on me, and with all the chaos I didn't get a minute to study. I didn't even pass the written test.

This time, I was one step from the finish line, and to make me look after those eight kids, my mother went and smeared me right in front of the background-check officers.

Seeing me drag my feet, she turned on me on the spot. "Watching kids at home is easy. Your sister and brother have done it for years. You're the only one who has to make a fuss about it!"

"Your sister says you should learn from that free live-in nanny on TV. Stop being so selfish."

"And I wasn't wrong anyway. You split your brother's head open over a piece of candy! You deserve to fail!"

Watching my mother spit venom, her face twisted and vicious, something in me just went flat.

"Fine. I won't take the exam anymore."

My mother lit up, sure I'd caved again.

But I turned and called the executive overseas. "Yes, I'm done with the civil-service track. I'm willing to move abroad."

My mother wasn't wrong. I really am selfish.

You can take care of the eight kids yourself.

1:

My mother was on the phone in the family group chat, gleeful.

"Your second sister was always a useless thing. About all she's good for is watching kids."

"Three years chasing that exam and she got nothing. She's been living here free, eating and drinking all this time, and I've been like her hired maid. It's high time I got to go out and relax and travel a bit."

She rattled on and on, completely forgetting how three years ago she'd been gravely ill in the hospital.

My sister said she couldn't come up with the money, that her business had lost everything.

My brother said he'd just gotten married and was already over a hundred grand in debt.

My mother lay in that bed crying, waiting to die.

And I was the one who paid her medical bills, using the scholarship money I'd earned working through college and the savings from my part-time jobs.

You'd think if they had no money, they could at least show up and help.

But my sister and brother both said they had kids to look after, and they barely came to the hospital at all.

When they did, they brought a few pounds of the cheapest apples and pears, calling it thoughtful because those were the fruits Mom liked.

But Mom was in the hospital after surgery, too weak to even feed herself, living on plain oatmeal and IV nutrition.

I still remember how she kept crying as she looked at me back then, saying over and over how sorry she was.

It's my fault, I'm the one who's sorry. I treated you badly from the time you were little. I only ever bought dresses for your sister, and all you got were her hand-me-downs.

Your brother had more candy than he could eat. The one time you finally came in first and your teacher gave you candy as a reward, I made you give it to your brother. I was wrong.

Your sister couldn't even get into a community college, but I forced you to drop out so you could earn the money for her to retake her exams. I was truly monstrous.

Even your brother's wedding dowry, I forced you to hand it over. How could I be such a monster.

Maybe I was starving for a mother's love. Or maybe, in that moment, her remorse felt too real.

I set aside all that old unfairness for the time being. I held her and told her to stop, to just focus on getting well.

Later, once she recovered, I quit my job and stayed home to study for the exam so I could take care of her.

I only took on the occasional design job on my computer for extra cash.

The sister and brother who never showed their faces during her hospital stay came by, sheepish, with a few thousand dollars.

They said they'd been too broke lately to come up with anything.

Before I could say a word, my mother threw them out, screaming that they were worse than animals.

I thought that this time she'd finally seen how cold my sister and brother really were.

But all it took was the two of them kneeling and kowtowing and crying in front of her, and she went soft, weeping her heart out.

"What mother holds a grudge against her own children? I was just hurt that you didn't come to see me."

2: 2

Afterward, my mother actually warned me not to go making trouble for my sister and brother.

But even though we'd never gotten along since we were kids, I never went out of my way to start anything.

In her eyes, though, everything was my fault.

Since she'd only just recovered from being so sick, I let it go with a sigh and said nothing.

I never expected that the next day, school let out for summer break, and my sister and brother showed up with all eight kids.

The genes in our family run strong. My sister had two sets of twins, and my brother had two sets of twins too.

My brother and I are twins ourselves, actually, but he's always been closer to my sister.

My sister looked at our mother, all pained:

"Summer break finally comes, and my husband says the company's doing a team retreat, family required. He's about to get promoted, and he needs to show the boss a happy home."

I gave a cold laugh off to the side. If you want to show off a happy home, you could just bring the kids along.

Let the boss see how sweet the whole family is.

As if she'd read my mind, my sister went on:

"Bringing the kids on a retreat is too much of a headache. There's no one but Mom to take care of them, I'm afraid."

The whole time she said it, her eyes kept drifting my way.

Mom hadn't been long out of surgery. She had no energy to look after children at all.

She said Mom would take the trouble, but the one taking the trouble would be me.

Before I could get a word out, my brother, wearing his most pitiful face, shoved two thousand dollars at me:

"I promise, one week and I'll come get the kids. My father-in-law was in a car accident, and my wife's an only child. I can't not be there."

His own mother is gravely ill and he won't look after her, but he'll rush off to take care of someone else's father.

Before the sarcastic words could leave my mouth,

Mom was already pushing the two thousand back into his hand:

"We're family, why bring money into it? Your father-in-law's side is bound to be short on cash, so you take all of it. I'll take care of your kids."

All eight of my sister and brother's children, my mother agreed to it, every last one.

As if afraid she'd change her mind, my sister and brother made their excuses and left right away.

The cramped two-bedroom apartment was packed with eight kids.

Every one of them under ten, the youngest barely three and not even weaned.

My mother mixed two bottles of formula, then clutched her lower back and said she wasn't feeling well.

I couldn't just stand there and watch her run herself into the ground, so I took the load off her and looked after all eight.

If it had just been the looking after, that would've been fine, but my mother had to keep pointing and correcting:

"That's not how you do it! You can't mix formula with warm water, you have to use scalding hot water!"

I said the kids would faint from hunger waiting for it to cool, and she told me to feed them baby cereal instead, said that's what I ate when I was little.

When I didn't do things her way, she'd sulk and refuse to eat.

Left with no choice, I fed my little nephew a couple of spoonfuls of baby cereal.

I'd barely gotten the spoon out when my sister's shriek came through the phone:

"Ursula! What are you feeding my son! He's not weaned yet, he can't eat solid food."

"Why did you put my little girl's dress on backwards? Go change it for her right now!"

My mother held up the phone: "Well, I wouldn't know. It was your sister who insisted on the baby cereal, and I'm not the one who dressed the child either."

My chest was heaving with anger when my brother's son knocked over a cup and cut his finger.

My sister-in-law came storming through the door and grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking:

"That's your own nephew! You're a grown adult, and you can't even watch a child?"

They took him to the ER later. It was just a scrape on the skin, already healed over and scabbed.

But my brother wouldn't let it go, insisting the kid could've been a child model and now that his face was ruined, I had to pay up.

When I refused, my mother started crying and pulled out her burial savings: "Never mind, Mom will pay it for you."

Left with no choice, I paid the twenty thousand, and swore I'd never watch their kids again.

But the next summer, all eight children stood lined up at my door, neat as anything:

"Auntie!"

"Auntie!"

3: 3

Vanessa posted a vacation update to her feed, all smiles, with the caption:

Our live-in nanny's watching the kids for me, so I can finally breathe~

Trevor left a comment, just as pleased with himself: Dropped mine off at the nanny's too. Time to pull an all-nighter on the games!

My mother didn't know who this "nanny" was, but Vanessa told her it was some selfless woman who took wonderful care of her nephews, and my mother nodded right along.

Told me I should learn a thing or two from this nanny.

An ordinary family pays seven or eight thousand for a nanny to look after one child.

Their eight kids only needed one live-in nanny.

But it never occurred to Vanessa or Trevor.

That nanny is willing to raise those kids because the woman she works for treats her well, backs her up, and is never stingy with her.

And what have they ever given me?

My thoughts drifted back to the room, where my mother was still out there packing, when she suddenly called out to me:

"Where's that dress you bought last month? It'd be perfect for the beach. Let your sister wear it for a few photos."

My face went cold at once. "Mom, that was a birthday present from Grandma Eleanor."

She waved it off. "I know that. She's just borrowing it. She'll give it back when they're home."

Then she looked me up and down, several times.

"Besides, your skin's too dark, it won't look good on you. Your sister's fair and pretty. That dress suits her."

When we were little, Vanessa and Trevor got to play at home.

And I got sent out to pull weeds and turn the soil.

Day after day under that sun. It'd be a miracle if my skin ever came out fair.

I took a deep breath. "Grandma bought it for me. I'm not lending it out."

Seeing how set my face was, my mother finally gave a grudging nod.

"Cheapskate. Fine, don't. After all the clothes and dresses your sister used to hand down to you, what a waste."

My sister is generous because she has everything.

I'm stingy because this dress is all I have.

Growing up, Vanessa and Trevor always got birthday presents and every kind of toy.

And I got nothing.

Grandma felt for me, and sometimes she'd slip me something on the sly.

When Vanessa or Trevor found out, my mother would make me hand it over.

Back then I was too small to protect what was mine.

Now I'm grown, and I can finally tell my mother no.

Back in my room, my boss abroad called me.

"You're sure you won't back out, right? Don't board the plane and then tell me you have to go home and take care of your mom."

The moment I gave a solemn nod, she laughed. "Good. I'll book your ticket. Don't stand me up. See you in London."

"Okay."

My passport and visa had expired. My mother was happily waiting for Vanessa and Trevor to arrive, and never noticed me leaving.

By the time I came back with my renewed passport and visa, eight kids had packed the cramped living room wall to wall.

My room had been turned upside down too, clothes strewn everywhere.

Even my laptop had been snapped clean in half by one of them.

I was shaking with anger. When I turned to look at Vanessa,

she was just tossing a familiar dress into the trash.

Catching my eye, she said, light as anything:

"You're so bony. This dress is way too small, it doesn't suit me. I'm more full-figured. I split it by accident, so I threw it out for you."

4: 4

Fury shot straight to my head, and I lunged across the room to grab it back.

But it was already too late. The dress had gone into the trash can, soaked through with spilled milkshake and spicy-noodle broth, filthy beyond saving.

One of the kids must have thrown up milk in there, because the whole dress reeked of sour, curdled formula.

I looked up at my mother. "I told you I wasn't lending it out!"

The cold look on my face made the child burst into tears.

My mother just curled her lip. "I only wanted your sister to try it on. It's not like I was taking it. Who knew the thing would be such cheap junk?"

She gathered Vanessa's and Trevor's kids into her arms and cooed at them.

"Don't cry, don't cry. Auntie's being mean. Grandma will beat Auntie up for you."

And with that, my mother swatted me hard, several times across the body.

The children shrieked with laughter and all rushed at me, punching and kicking.

They were only kids, but the kicks still hurt.

I tried to dodge and couldn't, all eight of them packed in tight around me on every side.

My brother didn't even look up from his phone game. "Come on, second sis, don't be so dramatic. They're little. How much can it hurt? I let them walk all over my back for a massage at home all the time."

My sister rolled her eyes at me, impatient. "You're the only one in this whole family who went to a good school. With all that education, you can stay home and teach the kids something. I'll bring you back a souvenir. Quit making a scene."

"Ever since you were little it's been crying and carrying on. Honestly."

I shoved the children off me, one by one, my face blank.

Seeing that I stayed cold, none of them dared come at me again.

My mother's expression froze. "The kids come to visit and you can't even give them a smile. What kind of aunt are you?"

I ignored her and turned back to my room without a word.

I straightened the clothes they'd thrown everywhere, folding them one at a time.

Then I fit the two halves of my laptop back together, planning to take it in later to recover the data.

My mother and the two of them didn't care in the least. They kept chattering away in the living room.

"What's she going to do? These past couple of years she pulled the same long face, and she still watched the kids for us, didn't she?"

"The last two years she said it was too much, taking care of Mom and the kids both. So this year we're bringing Mom along, aren't we?"

"Right. And here I was, going out of my way to lighten her load. What an ungrateful little brat."

"Forget it, leave her be. The flight's in a few hours. Whether she likes it or not, she'll watch them. She's not going to just abandon the kids."

They were certain I'd cave, the way I always had.

My feelings didn't register with them at all.

I spent a good ten or fifteen minutes tidying up, and as I headed out the door,

the neighbor stared at me, puzzled. "Your sister and brother took your mom and the kids down to the market for snacks, said they'd eat them on the way. Are you going on the trip too? Then who's watching the kids?"

Even the neighbor had it fixed in her mind that I was the one staying home with them.

I gave a bitter little laugh and didn't say much. "I've got somewhere to be."

Dragging my few bags behind me, I hailed a cab to the airport.

Seven hours in the air, and I finally met the woman who'd been reaching out to me all this time.

After the hug, my phone buzzed.

It was my mother, posting in the family group chat.

We're about to board the plane. Stop hiding in your room and get out here and make the kids dinner.

The baby cereal for the two little ones has to be blended smooth. They don't have teeth yet.

Where are you? Answer me.

You get out here right now, or I swear I'll break the door down!

Ten minutes later, a flood of calls and texts hit my phone.

The whole screen was one long interrogation.

Where the hell did you go! Get back here now.

I typed back one flat reply. Something came up, I'm out. Eight kids is a breeze, you've got this. Thanks for all your hard work, Mom.

Before my mother could start screaming, I switched off my phone.