Then, one day, the washing machine broke.
“Trevor, the washing machine isn’t working,” I told him. “We need to either fix it or get a new one. The baby’s clothes are piling up.”
His response was almost indifferent. “Maybe next month, babe. I promised my mom I’d use this paycheck to send her on vacation.”
I was stunned. “A vacation? Why?”
“She babysits sometimes, so I think she deserves it,” he replied.
“Babysits?” I repeated, incredulous. “She comes over, sits on the couch, and eats our food. That’s not babysitting.”
But Trevor was firm—his mother’s vacation came first.
“You’ll survive washing clothes by hand for a while,” he added dismissively
