I’m Katie, and I’m a nurse. I’ve handled emergencies, chaos, and long 12-hour shifts — but nothing prepared me for what my boyfriend, Liam, did one afternoon when I was on the job.
We’d been together about a year before moving in together. Liam was close to his mom — calling her about tiny things, from what detergent to buy to how to cook dinner. Sweet at first, but it became something else once we lived in the same place.
One day, during my break at the hospital, he literally burst into the lobby holding a white button-down with a massive ketchup stain. He yelled my name, and heads turned — coworkers and patients stared as he stood there, flustered.
He held up the shirt and declared, “You have to wash this for me. I need it for tonight.” I blinked. I was at work. But he insisted — hospitals have washers, right? Or I could go home real quick because his mom always handled these things for him.
I was stunned. He wanted me to drop work to wash his shirt he ruined with ketchup so he wouldn’t look messy at dinner. A receptionist snorted with laughter, colleagues smirked — and I knew this was ridiculous.
I told him I’d take care of the shirt — but on my terms. I’d wash it and deliver it later, not drop everything mid-shift. He beamed, completely missing my sarcasm.
My manager, Cheryl, saw the whole scene. She laughed and called him a “mama’s boy,” then told me to take the rest of the day off — but only if I was going to teach him a lesson. I left the hospital with a plan.
On the drive home, I called Liam’s mom. Her tone was cheerful — until I told her what Liam had done. She was shocked and immediately offered to help… in a very memorable way.
That evening, I got to the restaurant where Liam was waiting — a bit late but right on cue. I found a corner table first. Moments later, Liam’s mom walked in — with the perfectly washed and ironed shirt, hanging proudly in a garment bag.
She marched straight to Liam’s table, calling out his name like she was presenting a trophy. Liam’s face went bright red. His friends stared as she loudly declared she’d washed his shirt — and even brought stain-remover wipes — “just in case.”
His friends laughed. One joked, “Next time, have her make your lunch too!” Liam snatched the shirt, embarrassed and unable to hide his blush.
That’s when he spotted me across the room. His jaw dropped. I just raised my glass with a sweet smile.
He stormed over, shirt in hand, whisper-yelling, “What the hell, Katie? You got my mom involved?” I shrugged with a grin: “You said your mom always did stuff like this for you.”
He admitted he’d been wrong to expect me to drop everything to wash his shirt — especially mid-shift. He apologized and promised to take responsibility for things rather than lean on me or his mom.
Later that week, he tried laundry on his own — and shrunk his favorite sweater in the process. I teased him: “You’re lucky you’re cute.” He smiled, saying, “I’m trying.”
