You Want Receipts? Here’s a Binder, Patricia.
Co-parenting is hard enough when your ex barely pulls his weight, but throw in his mother — Patricia, the queen of misplaced judgment — and it’s a nightmare in pearls.
Ever since the divorce, Patricia has treated me like I’m some gold-digging freeloader living off her baby boy’s “hard-earned” child support. For the record: her baby boy shows up late for pickups, pays child support like it’s a donation, and hasn’t asked once how his son is doing in school.
But Patricia? She’s relentless. Every text, every visit, every passive-aggressive Facebook post screams the same message: “You’re spending his money on yourself.”
I tried to ignore her. I really did. Until… the sweater.
It was soft. It was warm. And it was on sale — \$26. I wore it to a family gathering on a cold day, thinking nothing of it.
Patricia spotted me from across the room like a hawk spotting a field mouse in designer boots.
She beelined over, narrowed her eyes, and said, “Well, well, nice sweater. Must be nice to buy luxuries on my son’s hard-earned money.”
I blinked. I stared. And I snapped.
“Excuse me?”
She crossed her arms. “That money is for my grandson. Not your little shopping sprees. I want receipts.”
I smiled. Not the nice kind. The you-just-activated-my-trap-card kind.
“Receipts? Oh Patricia. You’ll get them.”
For the next five days, I turned my kitchen table into an accounting battlefield.
I dug up every receipt, invoice, and bank statement from the last twelve months. I printed digital orders. I even sorted them into categories:
- Rent & Utilities: Because, yes, your grandson needs a roof, heating, and lights to read his homework.
- Groceries: I highlighted the items specifically for him. Want to know how much his favorite yogurt costs every week? I’ve got it.
- Clothes & Shoes: Kids grow like weeds. He’s gone through three sizes in one year.
- School supplies: Books, notebooks, pens, glue sticks. Oh, and the \$90 calculator his dad still hasn’t reimbursed me for.
- Medical bills: Pediatrician visits, allergy meds, and that time he broke his wrist falling off the monkey bars? That ER visit wasn’t free.
- Activities: Soccer fees, music lessons, library cards. You know… things that help him grow into a well-rounded human.
Total child support received last year? \$6,000.
Total spent on your grandson? \$12,438.62.
Difference? Guess who covered the other \$6,438.62?
Not your son. Me.
I put it all in a binder. Labeled. Tabbed. Color-coded. Glossy cover page titled:
“HOW TO RAISE A CHILD ON LESS THAN YOUR SON’S ALIMONY CHECK” — Volume 1”
And on the last page? A photocopy of the sweater receipt:
“\$26. Bought with MY paycheck. Not your son’s money. But thank you for noticing.”
I dropped it off at Patricia’s house with a smile.
The next day, I got a text from my ex.
“Can you please tell my mom to stop crying and posting cryptic Bible quotes on Facebook?”
I didn’t respond.
But a week later, I found a letter in my mailbox. Handwritten. From Patricia.
“I may have misjudged you. Thank you for taking such good care of my grandson.”
Inside the envelope? A \$100 gift card for groceries.
And a note at the bottom:
“Buy something for yourself, too. You’ve earned it.”
Guess what I bought?
A new sweater.
And yes — I kept the receipt.