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I Accidentally Found a Hidden Nanny Cam in My Bathroom and Went Pale When I Learned Why My 11-Year-Old Son Put It There

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Finding the hidden camera tucked under my bathtub was terrifying, and realizing my son had put it there was even worse. But his tearful explanation made me realize he was on a mission to reawaken a part of me I thought was lost forever.

The jigsaw puzzle on our kitchen table had stayed the same for weeks, and I was getting worried. My son, Drake, and I used to love them, but things were much different now.

A puzzle on a table | Source: Pexels

A puzzle on a table | Source: Pexels

These days, he would rush straight to his room after school and shut the door firmly behind him. That is… after coming home later than usual.

I stirred the pasta sauce and checked my phone again: 6:45 p.m. Two hours late, just like yesterday. Through the kitchen window, I watched our neighbors walking their dogs and laughing together.

Our house used to buzz with that kind of energy. Now it felt like Drake and I were living in separate worlds, connected only by quick hellos and leftover dinners. Did this happen to all pre-teens?

A woman concerned | Source: Pexels

A woman concerned | Source: Pexels

A few minutes later, the front door creaked open.

“Hey, Mom.” Drake’s voice floated through the hallway, followed by the thud of his backpack hitting the floor.

“Kitchen,” I called out happily. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

He poked his head around the corner. I saw his messy hair covered by a backward baseball cap. Something about his eyes made me feel like my boy was back, even for just a second.

Boy with a backwards baseball cap | Source: Pexels

Boy with a backwards baseball cap | Source: Pexels

But they soon darted to the floor when I looked at him. I knew something was going on, but I had no idea how to address it. My boy almost seemed older than his few years.

“Sorry I’m late. Chess club ran long.”

“Chess club?” I raised my eyebrows. “Yesterday it was math tutoring. And Tuesday was yearbook committee.”

“Oh yeah, I do all those now.” He shuffled his feet. “Can I eat in my room? Got tons of homework.”

Math book and notebook | Source: Pexels

Math book and notebook | Source: Pexels

I gripped the wooden spoon tighter, accidentally dripping tomato sauce onto the stovetop, and decided enough was enough. “Drake, what’s really going on?” I asked, turning and putting one hand on my hip.

“Nothing! I told you, just busy with school stuff,” he shrugged and moved further into the kitchen. Without meeting my gaze, he grabbed a plate, scooped up some pasta, and disappeared before I could press further.

Pasta dish | Source: Pexels

Pasta dish | Source: Pexels

I sighed and wondered to the heavens for the millionth time if I should intervene. Maybe I wouldn’t get an answer from up above, but I could try to find some of my own.

I checked the hallway, and his door was shut as usual, but he had left his backpack in the living room. It was my chance.

Inside, crumpled between textbooks, I found a piece of paper with an address scrawled in unfamiliar handwriting: “1247 Maple Street. Don’t be late. This is it.”

Backpack on the floor | Source: Unsplash

Backpack on the floor | Source: Unsplash

What was going on? I wondered, horrified.

***

That night, I found myself going through his old baby photos, spread across my bedroom floor like pieces of a life I barely recognized anymore.

There he was, two years old, grinning with spaghetti sauce all over his face. That happy little boy used to tell me everything. Now he barely looked at me.

Toddler covered in spaghetti sauce | Source: Midjourney

Toddler covered in spaghetti sauce | Source: Midjourney

The parent-teacher conference from last week played in my head.

“Drake seems… distracted lately,” Mrs. Peterson had said, sliding his failed math test across her desk. “He’s been falling asleep in class. When he’s awake, he’s always scribbling in his notebook, but it’s not notes from the lesson.”

How could he be getting a grade like that with math tutoring? Was it time to pull the plug on all other clubs?

A math test | Source: Pexels

A math test | Source: Pexels

Either way, I knew sleep wouldn’t come, so I decided to take a shower.

The bathroom was my sanctuary, the one place I could relax and belt out old songs without anyone hearing. Tonight’s selection was “Sweet Child O’ Mine.”

The steam rose around me as I hit the chorus, and I remembered how I used to dream of being on stage.

A woman washing her hair | Source: Pexels

A woman washing her hair | Source: Pexels

Where do we go now?” I sang, letting my voice soar like it used to at the coffee shop open mics when my future hopes were far grander than what reality allowed.

Sadly, those wishes were extinguished the moment, Tom, Drake’s father and my ex, left us for his new family in Seattle.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on the past again. The present was much more important. I finished cleaning myself up and exited my shower. As I dried my hair, I felt the pull on my ear and heard a clink on my tiled floor.

A woman drying up | Source: Pexels

A woman drying up | Source: Pexels

My earring! I bent down to get it and saw the crystal’s shining light reflecting from just under the bathtub. Except… something else caught my eye.

There, hidden under the edge, was an old nanny cam I used when Drake was a baby. And it was ON. I immediately went pale. But I examined the angle. It would only be recording my feet. I didn’t get it.

Still, my hands shook as I took it and carefully wrapped myself in a towel to march straight to Drake’s room. The sound of his furious typing stopped when I pounded on the door.

A woman holding a small camera | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a small camera | Source: Pexels

“Just a minute!” he called out, and I heard drawers being opened and shut. What in the world?

“Drake, open this door right now!”

Finally, I heard footsteps and the door swung open.

He stood there in his oversized gaming headphones, and his own face turned white as soon as I held up the nanny cam.

A boy with headphones | Source: Pexels

A boy with headphones | Source: Pexels

“Drake, what is this? Why was this hidden in the bathroom?!” I asked, as my anger and bravado turned to extreme worry.

When he remained silent, I gulped and asked, “Have you been… recording me in the bathroom?”

His eyes widened at that. His expression was terrified. “Oh no… Mom, you weren’t supposed to find that. IT’S NOT WHAT YOU THINK. I can explain!”

“Then start explaining.” I pushed past him into his room and looked at his computer. The screen showed some kind of video editing software. Oh, no! What is he doing?

A laptop on a desk | Source: Pexels

A laptop on a desk | Source: Pexels

But before I could panic more, Drake spoke. “I…” He slumped onto his bed. “You weren’t supposed to find out yet.”

“Find out what? That my son is making videos of…” I couldn’t even say it.

“No! Mom, listen,” he pleaded as tears welled up in his eyes. “Remember when you used to sing at the coffee shop open mics? Before Dad left?”

The question caught me off guard. “What does that have to do with anything?”

A woman looking confused | Source: Pexels

A woman looking confused | Source: Pexels

“You were so happy then. Now you only sing in the shower, when you think no one can hear you.” He wiped his nose with his sleeve. “But you’re still amazing, Mom. I wanted to show you that.”

He reached for his laptop and turned it toward me. His fingers pressed play, and suddenly, the screen showed me… well, a music video.

I saw a sunset over the city and streets filled with people chasing their dreams. But the main part was the soundtrack with my voice, clear and strong. It was playing “My Way.”

A sunset over New York | Source: Pexels

A sunset over New York | Source: Pexels

“I met an old man, Mr. Arthur. I’ve been going to his studio after school,” Drake continued. “He’s been teaching me video editing. I wanted to surprise you for your birthday, show you that you shouldn’t give up on your dreams just because…”

“Because your father left?” The words stuck in my throat.

“He owns all these old instruments, and he lets me practice drums while he teaches me about making videos.” Drake’s words tumbled out faster now. “I’ve been doing extra chores for neighbors to pay for studio time. Mr. Arthur says I have a good eye for it.”

A drum set | Source: Pexels

A drum set | Source: Pexels

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you worry about everything now.” His voice cracked. “Ever since Dad left, it’s like you stopped believing in good surprises. I thought if I could just finish the video, show you how amazing you still are…”

Tears welled and fell before I could stop them. All this time, I’d been so worried about what he was hiding. Never once did I consider he might be worried about me too.

A woman crying | Source: Pexels

A woman crying | Source: Pexels

“You could have just talked to me,” I said softly, wrapping my arms around him.

“Would you have listened?” He looked up at me, suddenly seeming older than 11. “You always say you’re fine, but I hear you crying sometimes. And you never sing anymore, except in the shower.”

I pulled him close, feeling his thin shoulders shake. “I’m sorry, baby. I guess we’ve both been keeping too many things inside.”

We stayed in silence for a few minutes before I remembered something. “Oh! Is Mr. Arthur’s studio on 1247 Maple Street?”

A music studio | Source: Midjourney

A music studio | Source: Midjourney

“Yes!” Drake said, but then frowned. “How did you know?”

“In the interest of honesty…” I began and confessed to ruMMAging through his backpack. Shockingly, we just laughed at each other.

***

The next day, we visited Mr. Arthur’s studio together. He turned out to be a gentle giant with calloused hands and kind eyes, surrounded by dusty guitars and vintage recording equipment.

Music equipment | Source: Pexels

Music equipment | Source: Pexels

“Your boy’s got talent,” he told me and showed me more of Drake’s videos. “And so do you.”

And now that the secrets were out, Drake and I finally finished the jigsaw puzzle together. I also sang outside the shower for the first time in years.

What’s more, next week, I’m singing at the coffee shop again. My son will be there, recording every moment. This time, I won’t be afraid of a little camera.

A woman singing a microphone | Source: Pexels

Mia Robertson is overcome with emotion.

Mia Robertson, the actress Missy and actor Jase Robertson’s daughter from Duck Dynasty, lost a very dear person this week.

Her longtime doctor, Dr. David Genecov, was killed in a car crash. Missy Robertson informed her Instagram fans that Mia underwent surgery to repair her fractured palate and lip.

Since Dr. Genecov had been Mia’s doctor for a number of years prior to his passing, his passing has impacted her life.

He not only provided her with medical care, but he was also incredibly compassionate and supportive throughout. His passing has upset Mia and her family, who have loved their time together over the years.

Mia Robertson has been fortunate to have such a knowledgeable and compassionate pediatrician all of her childhood.

She will always treasure her memories of him, even if his passing has left them all in disbelief and grief. Mia’s heart will always carry Dr. Genecov’s love as a continual reminder that he will never be forgotten.

Missy Robertson talks about how she and her daughter, Mia Robertson, were affected by her husband’s kindness and unwavering support.

His loving demeanor brought them comfort, and his words of encouragement inspired them to take on any challenge. In July, Mia underwent her fourteenth surgery, which she believes to be the final one she will ever require.

She established the “Mia Moo Fund” in order to provide Healthcare to other kids and free them from having to cover up their smiles due to Health issues. Thanks in part to the encouragement of their family and friends who have stood with them through thick and thin, Missy and Mia are more important than ever.

Missy’s husband was polite and helpful, which helped stabilize and bring tranquility to an otherwise chaotic situation. His presence gave Mia the support she needed to face an uncertain future, which enabled her undergo her fourteenth treatment in July without anxiety.

In addition, he helped them become stronger than either of them could have imagined before these difficulties; day by day, they felt more capable of facing any challenges that came their way with bravery and elegance.

As a result of this journey, Mia founded the “Mia Moo Fund,” a nonprofit dedicated to helping kids in need of medical attention by providing financial assistance so they won’t have to give up their smiles for want of funds.

Mia received the heartbreaking news from Missy Robertson. Dr. Genecov left a lasting legacy of elegance and beauty, as well as a passionate desire to involve his patients in decision-making, that those who knew him best will never forget.

Mia considers herself lucky to have connected with Dr. David Genecov. He made an unrivaled contribution to her experience with broken lip and palate, as well as numerous medical advancements that will benefit future generations.

Mia’s mother begged everyone to pray for people who were in agony as a result of this tragedy, saying that she could no longer remember life before her appointment with Dr. David.

The family will always be grateful for the doctor’s contributions to medical advancements that have improved lives all across the world, and they will always have a special place in their hearts for his work and kindness at this difficult time.

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