AITA for forgetting to take photos of the signed title after I closed and got paid for my mom’s mobile home?

I signed over the title, collected the cash, and recorded the whole closing—then forgot my mom’s requested photos. She got upset and went silent; I thought the video would be enough. AITA?

I’m 22 and lived in my mom’s mobile home for nearly 16 years. My mom moved out three years ago and lives with her boyfriend in another state; she gave me power of attorney to sell the house because she couldn’t be here. I work two full-time jobs and, with my boyfriend’s help, I packed, cleared the home, and handled the closing on October 29, 2025. The buyer signed the title, I signed, the cash was counted, and my boyfriend filmed the whole exchange—including the signing and handshake. My mom later asked for two photos of the signed title; I forgot to take stills because I thought the video would show everything. She’s been upset and not talking to me over the missing photos.

I’m a 22-year-old who managed a full move-out and closing while working two jobs—I signed the mobile home title for my mom, took a video of the closing, forgot to take two photos she asked for, and she got mad even though she has proof in the videos.

Chronology: my mom set a deadline—she told me on September 30, 2025 I had until the end of October to clear out and find a new place. I worked two full-time jobs, leaned on my boyfriend for heavy lifting, and managed to secure a new home for me and my six cats (I foster four; two belong to my mom). On October 29, 2025 I completed the sale, signed the title, received cash payment, and my boyfriend filmed the entire process. Later my mom asked for two photos of the signed title; I didn’t take them because I assumed the video sufficed. When she asked, I told her I’d forgotten photos but had video evidence.

"I signed the title, took the money, and we filmed the whole thing—then I forgot to grab still photos."

After my mom didn’t get the photos, she stopped talking to me. I was exhausted from moving and still sore from lifting. I moved into my new place and arranged for the foster cats to be picked up by their new parents that evening. I planned to ask my mom’s best friend to get the photos since I didn’t want to return to the house. I also made clear I’d been paying the bills at the home and had legal authority to sell it via power of attorney. The title is for a mobile home, which is why it’s a title rather than a deed.

"I was exhausted and didn't think a video wouldn't count—I genuinely forgot the photos in the moment."

I initially decided to go low contact until she apologized for blowing up over photos. Later updates: my mom reviewed the videos, took screenshots of the signed title for her records, and apologized for being unreasonable. We’re okay now; I moved into my place with my cats and closed that chapter.

🏠 The Aftermath

I cleared out the home, completed the sale on October 29, 2025, and moved into my new place the next day. The buyer has the mobile home; my mom has the money. I’ve been physically exhausted but relieved the process is done.

For a few tense days my mom refused to speak with me over the missing photos, and I planned to ask her best friend to retrieve images so I wouldn’t have to return. The fosters were picked up as arranged, and I settled into my new apartment with two of my cats.

Ultimately, my mom went through the video, took screenshots of the signed title, and apologized. We reconciled and agreed to go low contact for a while after the stress of everything that happened.

"I did what needed to be done, but a few missing photos blew up into a family fight—until she found the screenshots in the video."

The concrete outcomes: sale completed, funds transferred, I’m moved out, fosters placed, and a repaired relationship after a brief period of silence.

💭 Emotional Reflection

This was an emotionally fraught week—clearing a home you’ve lived in most of your life, selling it for your out-of-state parent, and juggling two full-time jobs is intense. Forgetting two photos in that moment is understandable human error, especially when there’s video proof of the entire transaction.

On the other hand, your mom’s request was reasonable: having clear photos of the signed title is a straightforward thing to ask for. Her strong reaction likely came from fear, stress, or the helplessness of being far away during the sale rather than from malice directed at you.

In the end, you handled the logistics under difficult circumstances, and communication—and a quick follow-up—resolved the problem. Mistakes happen, but asking for what you need and apologizing when overwhelmed helps mend things.

Here’s how the community might see it:

“You did the heavy lifting and recorded everything. Forgetting photos while exhausted is forgivable—especially since she got screenshots from the video.”

“Her reaction was extreme, but selling a house remotely is stressful. Good on you for planning backups and getting the fosters placed.”

“You might’ve avoided the blow-up by sending a quick photo ASAP, but you also deserve credit for handling a huge, exhausting task.”

Responses tend to split between empathy for the logistical burden you handled and a reminder that small follow-ups can prevent miscommunications from becoming major conflicts.

🌱 Final Thoughts

You moved out of a home you’d lived in for most of your life, closed a sale with legal authority, and kept your foster cats’ placements intact—under immense pressure. A missing pair of photos doesn’t erase that effort.

The situation resolved when your mom found what she needed in the video and apologized. That outcome shows how quickly small mistakes can be fixed with patience and a little follow-up.

What do you think?
Have you ever had a small oversight blow up because someone was stressed? How did you handle the fallout? Share your experiences below 👇