My Sons New Wife Forced My Injured Granddaughter to Watch Her Twins While She Went Out, That Was the Last Straw!

Silence followed.

Finally, she asked what she had to do.

“Four days,” I said. “You take care of this house. The twins. Olivia. No delegating. No disappearing. No complaints. For the same length of time Scott is gone.”

She hated it, but she agreed.

Day one was a disaster. Breakfast chaos. Screaming toddlers. Vomit before noon. Burnt toast. Tears she tried to hide.

Day two brought diaper blowouts and yogurt in her hair. One twin bit her. The other screamed because his banana was broken.

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