My parents treated me like a servant. 1 day before…

find me and say, “We need you in the kitchen.” Not, “Could you help?” Not, “Would you mind?” Just, “We need you.”

I kept a private spreadsheet. I never told anyone about it. Twenty-six rows, one for each time I cooked. Date. Event. Hours spent. Number of guests. Compensation received. Thanked properly.

That last column was always the same answer: no.continue reading …