Linda worked her entire life as an accountant for a major firm, and she was still the best employee at her age. But she wanted to retire, something the director refused. She asked for an extended vacation, which was denied, and that’s when she finally decided to quit. However, the director showed up at her doorstep with a shocking suggestion.
“Mr. Salinger, I’ve been working for over 40 years. I think I have earned my retirement by now,” Linda told her boss in the accountant firm she had dedicated her life to.
“No, Linda. We can’t do that yet. You can’t do that to us. You can’t leave the company without a proper replacement for you. It’s just not possible,” Mr. Salinger replied, shaking his head at her suggestion.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Although Linda was the best employee in the firm, she truly needed to retire now. It was harder for her to learn all the advanced computer programs coming out now, and focusing on a screen was damaging her eyesight. She had headaches all the time and tired quickly. It was time for her to rest, especially because she had missed so much of her life working there.
Her firm demanded the most out of everybody that worked there. Linda was a hugely ambitious woman who wanted the very best for her family. Therefore, she invested double the hours and worked to become the number one employee in the company. And she had kept that spot for decades.
But now, the director, Mr. Salinger, told her to stay, and she complied again with his orders.
***
Unfortunately, Linda was overwhelmed with work and sad that Mr. Salinger had not supported her retirement. Her children and husband, Thomas, noticed this and decided to plan several weekend outings.
Linda spent time with her grandchildren at barbecues, the Richmond County fair in their hometown in Staten Island, and they even spent some time in New York visiting touristy spots.
One weekend, her husband surprised her with several tickets for a planned trip to Europe in the summer. They were interchangeable, so all she needed was to arrange her vacation time at work to enjoy it fully.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
That was the perfect solution. If Mr. Salinger wouldn’t let her retire, he had to give her a decent vacation time this year. After all, she had not taken a long break for many years. She was due.
***
“Absolutely not! That’s too much time. We need you here, Linda. I thought we had already discussed this,” Mr. Salinger stated, throwing some papers on his desk and looking at Linda in disappointment.
“Mr. Salinger, I’m due for a long vacation after all my years of hard work. We talked about retiring and you told me you couldn’t allow it. A vacation is only a month. That’s nothing,” Linda countered, her hands together in a begging gesture.
“I already told you my answer. It’s final!” her boss said and started typing on his computer, which was usually her cue to leave. But Linda had had enough. She looked at her boss’s face and felt a deep sadness. After all these years, this was how he treated her.
“Fine. I quit then. Effective immediately,” Linda said in the calmest voice possible. She didn’t have time to enjoy watching Mr. Salinger’s jaw hit the floor as she stormed out of his office. She went straight to her desk and picked up a few of her trinkets, photo frames, and purse. She was done.
“Linda! You can’t leave! You can’t quit!” Mr. Salinger yelled as she approached the elevator. The entire office turned to look at them in curiosity.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Goodbye, everyone!” Linda waved to her co-workers. “I’m officially retiring today!”
“FINE! GO THEN! WE CAN HIRE ANYONE TO DO YOUR JOB! IT’S THE EASIEST IN THE COMPANY! GO! YOU UNGRATEFUL OLD WOMAN!”
Linda’s co-workers had started to applaud but stopped when Mr. Salinger began yelling. She paid him no mind. She got in that elevator and left with a smile. She was free.
***
A month later, Linda was busy in her room trying to decide what to pack for Europe. She and her husband were leaving in a few days and would be traveling for at least two months. It was going to be amazing, but she needed to have wardrobe choices.
The doorbell rang. She walked to the door and was surprised to be greeted by Mr. Salinger’s saddened eyes.
“Mr. Salinger, what are you doing here?” she asked, shocked by his visit.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Linda, I’m here because we need you. The company needs you. We hired a younger person, and she doesn’t know how to do anything. We’re desperate without you,” Mr. Salinger begged, his face showing his anguish.
“I thought anyone could do my job,” Linda quipped.
“Please! Don’t make me beg. We need you back. I can offer you a raise and that vacation time you asked for,” Mr. Salinger insisted, looking like he was about to bend to his knees.
But Linda shook her head. “There’s no money in the world that will make me go back to work, Mr. Salinger. I asked for very little from you over these decades. I was the best employee, and you still treated me like trash. I wasted so much time and missed many milestones in my family’s life. Now, it’s time to enjoy the fruits of my labor. I now know that work doesn’t matter. Spending time with your loved ones does. Goodbye, Mr. Salinger, and good luck,” she added calmly.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Mr. Salinger’s shoulders hunched, and Linda closed the door on his face.
What can we learn from this story?
- Don’t waste your whole life on a job. The truth is that a company will replace you easily if something happens, so don’t dedicate your life to it.
- Treat your employees well. Some employers don’t learn how valuable their employees are until it’s too late.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about an older woman who spent Christmas alone when her children discovered she was a cleaner.
This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
My Husband Refused to Buy a New Washing Machine and Told Me to Wash Everything by Hand — Because He Promised His Mom a Vacation Instead
Six months postpartum, drowning in baby laundry, and exhausted beyond words, I thought my husband would understand when our washing machine broke. But instead of helping, he shrugged and said, “Just wash everything by hand—people did it for centuries.”
I never thought I’d spend this much time doing laundry.
A tired woman in a chair | Source: Pexels
Six months ago, I gave birth to our first baby. Since then, my life had turned into a never-ending cycle of feeding, changing diapers, cleaning, cooking, and washing. So much washing. Babies go through more clothes in a day than an entire football team.
On a good day, I washed at least eight pounds of tiny onesies, burp cloths, blankets, and bibs. On a bad day? Let’s just say I stopped counting.
A woman doing laundry | Source: Pexels
So when the washing machine broke, I knew I was in trouble.
I had just pulled out a soaking pile of clothes when it sputtered, let out a sad grinding noise, and died. I pressed the buttons. Nothing. I unplugged it, plugged it back in. Nothing.
My heart sank.
When Billy got home from work, I wasted no time.
A tired puzzled woman | Source: Pexels
“The washing machine is dead,” I said as soon as he stepped through the door. “We need a new one.”
Billy barely looked up from his phone. “Huh?”
“I said the washing machine broke. We need to replace it. Soon.”
He nodded absently, kicked off his shoes, and scrolled through his screen. “Yeah. Not this month.”
A man on his phone in his living room | Source: Pexels
I blinked. “What?”
“Not this month,” he repeated. “Maybe next month when I get my salary. Three weeks.”
I felt my stomach twist. “Billy, I can’t go three weeks without a washing machine. The baby’s clothes need to be cleaned properly every day.”
A couple having a serious talk | Source: Pexels
Billy sighed like I was asking for something unreasonable. He put his phone down and stretched his arms over his head. “Look, I already promised to pay for my mom’s vacation this month. She really deserves it.”
I stared at him. “Your mom’s vacation?”
“Yeah. She’s been babysitting for us. I thought it’d be nice to do something for her.”
Babysitting?
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
I swallowed hard. His mother came over once a month. She sat on the couch, watched TV, ate the dinner I cooked, and took a nap while the baby slept. That wasn’t babysitting. That was visiting.
Billy kept talking like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on me. “She said she needed a break, so I figured I’d cover her trip. It’s just for a few days.”
A man talking to his wife in his kitchen | Source: Pexels
I crossed my arms. “Billy, your mom doesn’t babysit. She comes over, eats, naps, and goes home.”
He frowned. “That’s not true.”
“Oh, really? When was the last time she changed a diaper?”
Billy opened his mouth, then shut it. “That’s not the point.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, I think it is.”
A couple arguing in their kitchen | Source: Pexels
He groaned, rubbing his face. “Look, can’t you just wash everything by hand for now? People used to do that for centuries. Nobody died from it.”
I stared at him, feeling my blood boil. Wash everything by hand. Like I wasn’t already drowning in work, exhausted, aching, and running on three hours of sleep a night.
An angry woman clutching her head | Source: Pexels
I took a slow, deep breath, my hands clenching into fists. I wanted to yell, to scream, to make him understand how unfair this was. But I knew Billy. Arguing wouldn’t change his mind.
I exhaled and looked at the pile of dirty clothes stacked by the door. Fine. If he wanted me to wash everything by hand, then that’s exactly what I’d do.
The first load wasn’t so bad.
A pile of clothes | Source: Pexels
I filled the bathtub with soapy water, dropped in the baby’s clothes, and started scrubbing. My arms ached, but I told myself it was temporary. Just a few weeks.
By the third load, my back was screaming. My fingers were raw. And I still had towels, bedsheets, and Billy’s work clothes waiting for me.
A tired woman sitting near a bathtub | Source: Midjourney
Every day was the same. Wake up, feed the baby, clean, cook, do laundry by hand, wring it out, hang it up. By the time I was done, my hands were swollen, my shoulders stiff, and my body exhausted.
Billy didn’t notice.
A bored man on a couch | Source: Pexels
He came home, kicked off his shoes, ate the dinner I cooked, and stretched out on the couch. I could barely hold a spoon, but he never once asked if I needed help. Never looked at my hands, red and cracked from hours of scrubbing.
One night, after I’d finished washing another pile of clothes, I collapsed onto the couch next to him. I winced as I rubbed my aching fingers.
Billy glanced at me. “What’s wrong with you?”
A tired woman on her couch | Source: Pexels
I stared at him. “What’s wrong with me?”
He shrugged. “You look tired.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Gee, I wonder why.”
He didn’t even flinch. Just turned back to the TV. That was the moment something snapped inside me.
An annoyed woman in her kitchen | Source: Pexels
Billy wasn’t going to understand—not unless he felt the inconvenience himself. If he wanted me to live like a 19th-century housewife, then fine. He could live like a caveman.
So I planned my revenge.
The next morning, I packed his lunch as usual. Except instead of the big, hearty meal he expected, I filled his lunchbox with stones. Right on top, I placed a folded note.
A lunchbox filled with rocks | Source: Midjourney
Then I kissed his cheek and sent him off to work.
And I waited.
At exactly 12:30 PM, Billy stormed through the front door, red-faced and furious.
“What the hell have you done?!” he shouted, slamming his lunchbox onto the counter.
I turned from the sink, wiping my hands on a towel. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
A laughing woman in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
He flipped open the lid, revealing the pile of rocks. He grabbed the note and read it out loud.
“Men used to get food for their families themselves. Go hunt your meal, make fire with stones, and fry it.”
His face twisted in rage. “Are you out of your damn mind, Shirley? I had to open this in front of my coworkers!”
I crossed my arms. “Oh, so public humiliation is bad when it happens to you?”
A shouting man wearing glasses | Source: Pexels
Billy clenched his jaw. He looked like he wanted to yell, but for once, he didn’t have a comeback.
I crossed my arms and tilted my head. “Go on, Billy. Tell me how this is different.”
His jaw tightened. “Shirley, this is—this is just childish.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, I see. So your suffering is real, but mine is just me being childish?”
An angry woman lecturing her husband | Source: Pexels
He threw his hands in the air. “You could have just talked to me!”
I stepped forward, fire burning in my chest. “Talked to you? I did, Billy. I told you I couldn’t go three weeks without a washing machine. I told you I was exhausted. And you shrugged and told me to do it by hand. Like I was some woman from the 1800s!”
A woman turning away from her husband | Source: Pexels
His nostrils flared, but I could see the tiny flicker of guilt creeping in. He knew I was right.
I pointed at his lunchbox. “You thought I’d just take it, huh? That I’d wash and scrub and break my back while you sat on that couch every night without a care in the world?”
Billy looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.
A sad man clutching his head | Source: Pexels
I shook my head. “I’m not a servant, Billy. And I’m sure as hell not your mother.”
Silence. Then, finally, he muttered, “I get it.”
“Do you?” I asked.
He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Yeah. I do.”
A tired man rubbing his temples | Source: Pexels
I watched him for a long moment, letting his words settle. Then I turned back to the sink. “Good,” I said, rinsing off my hands. “Because I meant it, Billy. If you ever put your mother’s vacation over my basic needs again, you’d better learn how to start a fire with those rocks.”
Billy sulked for the rest of the evening.
An angry man in a hoodie | Source: Pexels
He barely touched his dinner. He didn’t turn on the TV. He sat on the couch, arms crossed, staring at the wall like it had personally betrayed him. Every now and then, he sighed loudly, like I was supposed to feel bad for him.
I didn’t.
For once, he was the one uncomfortable. He was the one who had to sit with the weight of his own choices. And I was perfectly fine letting him stew in it.
A woman reading a book on a couch | Source: Pexels
The next morning, something strange happened.
Billy’s alarm went off earlier than usual. Instead of hitting snooze five times, he actually got up. He got dressed quickly and left without a word.
I didn’t ask where he was going. I just waited.
That evening, when he came home, I heard it before I saw it—the unmistakable sound of a large box being dragged through the doorway.
A large box in the doorway | Source: Midjourney
I turned around and there it was. A brand-new washing machine.
Billy didn’t say anything. He just set it up, plugging in hoses, checking the settings. No complaints. No excuses. Just quiet determination.
When he finished, he finally looked up. His face was sheepish, his voice low.
“I get it now.”
A sorry man covering his face | Source: Pexels
I watched him for a moment, then nodded. “Good.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh… should’ve listened to you sooner.”
“Yeah,” I said, crossing my arms. “You should have.”
He swallowed, nodded again, then grabbed his phone and walked away without argument or justification. Just acceptance. And honestly? That was enough.
A satisfied smiling woman | Source: Pexels
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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