My Sister’s 11-Year-Old Son Spit Into My Plate At Dinner And Said, “Dad Says You Deserve It.” I Just
My sister’s 11-year-old son spit into my plate at dinner and said, “Dad says you deserve it.” I grabbed my bag and left. That night, I got a text from my brother: “You’re no longer welcome.” I replied, “But neither is my money. Payments stop in the morning.” 12 hours later, he screamed.
I never imagined an 11-year-old spitting in my food would be the least shocking thing that night.
Nick and Hannah were celebrating 15 years of being married, and they made sure everyone knew it. Balloons, fancy catered food, little custom napkins with their initials printed on them. The kind of thing you’d expect from people trying to convince others—and maybe themselves—that everything was perfect.
I wasn’t thrilled about going, but I showed up. Always do. Nick is my brother, and whether I liked it or not, we’d been tangled together for years, mostly because of the business. He likes to pretend it’s his company, too.
Technically, he has a stake, a small one. I gave it to him years ago when I thought it would be nice to keep things in the family. It was my idea, my work, my money that built it. Nick was just the guy I let sit at the table. And over time, he started acting like he built the damn table.
The more successful we got, the more entitled he became. He started asking about my house, the second one I bought near the lake, making comments about how someone single doesn’t need that much space. Then last month, he straight up asked me if I’d ever thought about transferring the deed to him since I don’t have kids and probably never will. I laughed, said no, and watched his face twitch in a way that told me he wasn’t joking.
But I wasn’t prepared for what happened at that dinner.
The dining room was full. Our parents were there. Some extended family, Nick’s wife’s side, too. Carter, Nick’s 11-year-old son, sat next to me. He’s always been a bit much. Spoiled, loud, no boundaries. But that night, he was on another level.
While people were still chatting and settling in, I started filling my plate. Out of nowhere, Carter leaned over, spit directly into it, then shoved it back toward me and said, “Dad says you deserve it.”
It didn’t even sound like a kid repeating something. It sounded rehearsed.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
TAP → NEXT PAGE → 👇
