Entitled Mom on the Flight Broke My Daughter’s iPad – She Regretted It Sooner Than I Could Have Imagined

An entitled mom thought breaking my little daughter’s iPad would end her son’s tantrums. But what came next left her more panicked than I could’ve imagined. Karma works fast… even at 30,000 feet!

I, Bethany, 35 years old, never thought a two-hour flight could change so much. But there I was, settling into my seat with my five-year-old daughter Ella next to me. As the plane taxied down the runway, I breathed a sigh of relief. Ella was contentedly watching cartoons on her iPad, headphones snug on her ears…

A cheerful little girl holding a tablet | Source: Freepik

A cheerful little girl holding a tablet | Source: Freepik

“You comfy, sweetie?” I asked, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Ella nodded, her eyes glued to the screen. “Uh-huh. Can I have juice later?”

“Of course,” I smiled, reaching for my book. “Just let me know when you’re thirsty.”

As I cracked open my novel, movement across the aisle caught my eye. A family of three had just sat down: a couple and a little boy around Ella’s age. He was squirming in his seat, whining loudly.

Grayscale of a little boy throwing a tantrum | Source: Pexels

Grayscale of a little boy throwing a tantrum | Source: Pexels

“I’m bored!” he wailed, kicking the seat in front of him.

His mother shushed him. “We told you, no screens on this trip. Be a good boy.”

The boy’s whining intensified, and I saw his gaze lock onto Ella’s iPad.

Oh boy, I thought. This might be a long flight.

A little boy crying | Source: Pexels

A little boy crying | Source: Pexels

Twenty minutes in, a tap on my shoulder made me look up. The mom from across the aisle was leaning towards me, a tight smile on her face.

“Hi there! I couldn’t help but notice your daughter’s iPad. We’ve decided to be responsible parents and not give our son any screen time this vacation. Would you mind putting that away? It’s making him upset.”

I blinked, stunned by her audacity. “Excuse me?”

“It’s just… it’s not fair to him, you know?”

An annoyed woman sitting in an airplane | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed woman sitting in an airplane | Source: Midjourney

I took a deep breath, reminding myself to stay calm. “I’m sorry, but no. My daughter’s using it to stay calm during the flight.”

The woman’s smile vanished instantly. “Wow, really? You’d rather ruin our family trip than have your daughter take a break from her precious screen?”

“Listen,” I said, my patience wearing thin, “she’s quietly minding her own business. Your son could do the same if you’d brought him something to do.”

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

The woman, let’s just call her “Entitled Mom (EM)” was visibly frustrated.

“Some parents just can’t say no to their kids these days. No wonder they all end up spoiled.”

I turned back to my book, hoping that would end the conversation. But I could feel her glare burning into the side of my head.

“Everything okay, Mommy?” Ella asked, momentarily looking up from her show.

“Everything’s fine, sweetie. Just keep watching your cartoons.”

Little girl holding a tablet in an airplane | Source: Pexels

Little girl holding a tablet in an airplane | Source: Pexels

The next hour was tense. The boy’s tantrum escalated, his wails piercing through the cabin noise.

His parents shot us dirty looks every few minutes, as if we were personally responsible for their poor planning.

“I want that!” the boy shrieked, pointing at Ella’s iPad. “It’s not fair!”

His mother leaned over. “I know, honey. Some people are just SELFISH!”

I gritted my teeth, focusing on my book. The words blurred as I tried to block out the chaos around us. Ella remained oblivious, lost in her cartoons.

Grayscale of a sad boy | Source: Pexels

Grayscale of a sad boy | Source: Pexels

Suddenly, a commotion erupted beside us. Entitled Mom had leaned across the aisle, reaching for her bag. But instead of grabbing her belongings, her arm knocked into Ella’s tray table.

Time seemed to slow as I watched Ella’s iPad slide off the tray. It hit the floor with a sickening crack, the screen shattering into a spiderweb of fractures.

Ella’s scream cut through the air. “Mommy, my iPad!”

A tablet with a shattered screen | Source: Midjourney

A tablet with a shattered screen | Source: Midjourney

Entitled Mom’s face lit with fake surprise. “Oh no! I didn’t mean to do that! So clumsy of me!”

But I saw the glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. This was NO ACCIDENT.

“What is wrong with you?” I hissed.

She shrugged, not even trying to hide her smugness. “These things happen. Maybe it’s a sign she needs less screen time.”

Two women arguing | Source: Midjourney

Two women arguing | Source: Midjourney

I was about to unleash a torrent of words that would make a sailor blush when a flight attendant appeared.

“Is everything alright here?” she asked, eyeing the shattered iPad.

Entitled Mom’s act kicked into high gear. “Oh, it was just a terrible accident. I feel awful!”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the flight attendant cut me off with a sympathetic smile.

“I’m so sorry about your device, ma’am. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do mid-flight. Please let us know if you need anything else.”

A flight attendant smiling | Source: Midjourney

A flight attendant smiling | Source: Midjourney

As she walked away, I turned to comfort my distraught daughter, knowing this battle was far from over. But it seemed karma had other plans.

With Ella’s iPad out of commission, the boy’s tantrum reached new heights. He bounced in his seat, kicked the chair in front of him, and yanked on the tray table.

“Sweetie, please settle down,” Entitled Mom pleaded.

“I’m bored! This is the worst trip ever!”

A little boy covering his eye | Source: Pexels

A little boy covering his eye | Source: Pexels

I watched from the corner of my eye, torn between sympathy for the child and a petty sense of satisfaction at Entitled Mom’s struggle.

Ella tugged on my sleeve, her eyes still watery. “Mommy, can you fix it?”

I hugged her close. “I’m sorry, sweetie. We’ll have to get it looked at when we land. How about we read a book instead?”

A little girl crying in an airplane | Source: Midjourney

A little girl crying in an airplane | Source: Midjourney

As I reached into my bag for another book, chaos erupted across the aisle.

The boy, in a fit of hyperactivity, had knocked over Entitled Mom’s coffee cup. The dark liquid spread across her lap and splashed into her open handbag.

“No, no, no!” she cried, frantically trying to save her belongings.

In her haste to rescue her bag, something fell out and landed on the floor. Yikes! It was a small blue booklet. I took a closer look and gasped. It was her PASSPORT!

Coffee spilling from a cup | Source: Midjourney

Coffee spilling from a cup | Source: Midjourney

Before anyone could react, her son’s foot came down on the fallen document, grinding it into the coffee-soaked carpet.

God, you should’ve seen Entitled Mom’s face. It was EPIC!

She snatched up the passport, but the damage was done. The pages were soaked through, stuck together in a soggy mess. The cover was warped beyond recognition. It looked like a water-logged, soggy piece of toast.

A startled woman | Source: Pexels

A startled woman | Source: Pexels

“Ma’am?” A flight attendant approached. “Is that your passport?”

Entitled Mom nodded, speechless for once.

“I’m so sorry, but I have to inform you that a damaged passport could cause serious issues when we land. Especially if you’re traveling internationally.”

Entitled Mom’s eyes widened in panic. She turned to her husband, seeking a way out. “What are we going to do? Our connecting flight to Paris leaves in three hours!”

Side view of a flight attendant | Source: Midjourney

Side view of a flight attendant | Source: Midjourney

Her husband shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. Maybe we can explain at customs?”

As they bickered, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of malevolence.

As the plane began its descent, Entitled Mom was frantically dabbing at her ruined passport with tissues, muttering under her breath. Her son, exhausted from his earlier tantrums, had finally fallen asleep.

An anxious man | Source: Midjourney

An anxious man | Source: Midjourney

I leaned over to Ella, who was reading her storybook with a big smile. “Great job, sweetie! You’re a real bookworm!”

She beamed at me, her earlier distress over the iPad forgotten. “Can we bake cupcakes when we get home, Mommy?”

“Absolutely,” I promised, ruffling her hair. “And maybe we can bake some cookies too!”

A soft whimper from across the aisle drew my attention. Entitled Mom was on the phone, her eyes brimming with panic.

Grayscale of a woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney

Grayscale of a woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney

“Yes, I understand it’s last minute, but we need to reschedule our entire trip. No, we can’t make the connecting flight. Because… because my passport is ruined.”

I couldn’t help but overhear as she explained the situation, detailing how she’d have to go through the process of getting an emergency passport before they could continue their journey.

As we began to taxi to our gate, Entitled Mom caught my eye as we stood to disembark.

An anxious woman with her eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney

An anxious woman with her eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney

For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of remorse in her eyes. But then her son started whining again, and the moment passed.

“Ready to go, Ella?” I asked, helping her gather her things.

“Can we get ice cream at the airport, Mommy?”

“I think we deserve a little treat, don’t you think?!” I laughed.

A boy opening his mouth | Source: Pexels

A boy opening his mouth | Source: Pexels

As we made our way off the plane, I couldn’t help but reflect on the bizarre turn of events. What had started as a simple two-hour flight had turned into a lesson in karma, patience, and the unpredictability of travel.

I glanced back one last time to see Entitled Mom still frantically trying to salvage her ruined passport. It was a grim reminder that our actions, good or bad, often have unexpected consequences.

A frustrated woman holding her head | Source: Pexels

A frustrated woman holding her head | Source: Pexels

Turns out, it wasn’t just Ella’s iPad that got ruined on that flight. Entitled Mom ended up losing something much more valuable!

As we walked hand in hand towards the baggage claim, I squeezed Ella’s fingers, thankful for the perspective this chaotic flight had given me. Sometimes, the best lessons come from the worst experiences.

Have you ever encountered a nightmare neighbor on a flight? Share your own flight horror stories in the comments!

Lady with a little girl leaving an airport | Source: Midjourney

Lady with a little girl leaving an airport | Source: Midjourney

Here’s another story: An entitled rich man mocks a poor boy shining shoes in an underpass. He learns a brutal lesson the very next day.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Entitled Neighbor Buried My Pond – I Showed Him Why You Don’t Cross an Older Woman

Brian, Margaret’s conceited neighbor, had no clue the intense, deliberate reaction he would inspire when he filled in her cherished pond while she was gone. Margaret, an elderly woman who appeared to be lonely, came up with a scheme that completely changed Brian’s life. Let me tell you, having seen my fair share of drama, at seventy-four years old. However, nothing could have equipped me for the chaos that broke out in my own backyard.

I’m Margaret, and I’ve spent the last 20 years residing in this quaint little home. It’s been my little piece of paradise, where I’ve seen my three children grow up and now greet my seven grandchildren for weekend cookouts and summer splashes. There is always someone stopping by, bringing love and laughter into the space. The jewel in the crown of my estate? A lovely pond that my beloved grandfather excavated by himself. It has always served as the focal point of our family get-togethers. The grandchildren enjoy playing in it, and to be honest, there are moments when I feel like they care more about the pond than they do about me! Before roughly five years ago, when Brian moved in next door, everything was fine and dandy. That man had a bee in his bonnet about my pond from the very beginning. He would call out across the fence, “Margaret!” I can’t stop staring at those frogs all night! Is there nothing you can do about them? “Oh, Brian, they’re just singing you a lullaby,” I would merely answer with a smile. Without charge!” He, however, was not having it. “And the biting insects! They are proliferating in your pond like crazy! I would respond, “Now, Brian, I keep that pond cleaner than a whistle.” The source of the mosquitoes is most likely the pile of debris in your backyard. He would puff and sputter, but I would get on with my day. I was mistaken to think he would ultimately get used to it. I made the decision to go see my sister who lives in the next state over one day. I was excited for a few days of gin rummy and gossip. I had no idea that when I returned, I would see something that would chill me to the bone.

Upon entering my driveway, I became aware of an irregularity. There was no longer the typical shimmer of water to greet me. It was replaced by… dirt. I heaved myself out of the car, my heart sinking to my toes.Sweet old Mrs. Johnson, my neighbor across the street, hurried over. “Ah, Margaret! I’m so happy you’re back. They claimed to be following directions when I sought to stop them. “Who should stop? What directives?” I was lost in thought, gazing at the muddy area that once held my cherished pond. “Yesterday, a crew stopped by. According to Mrs. Johnson, “some company hired them to empty and refill the pond.” “They had all the paperwork, but I told them you weren’t at home!” I had been taken completely by surprise. In a day, twenty years’ worth of memories vanished. And I knew just who was responsible. I whispered, squeezing my fists, “Brian.” “How are you going to proceed?” With concern imprinted on her features, Mrs. Johnson inquired. I positioned my shoulders squarely. “Well, I’ll let you know what I plan to do. Does that man believe he can bully a kind elderly woman? He’s going to discover the hard way why you never cross a woman like Margaret! I started by giving my relatives a call. Lisa, my daughter, was furious. “Mom, this is not right! We must dial the police number! I said, “Hold your horses, sweetie.””First, we need proof.” Jessie, my granddaughter, spoke forward at that point. “Grandmother! Do you recall the bird camera we installed in the oak tree? Perhaps something got caught in it! As luck would have it, that tiny camera ended up being our covert tool. After watching the video, we could clearly see Brian leading a team to fill up my pond. He appeared to be a young child who had just avoided getting caught stealing cookies from the jar. “You got it,” I said, a smile forming on my face. Brian appeared to assume that since I’m elderly and live alone, I’d just accept it. He had no idea that I was hiding a few tricks from him. My initial action was to give the local environmental department a call. “Hi,” I said in a kind voice. “I want to report that a protected habitat has been destroyed.” Confusion was audible from the individual on the other end. “Habitat protected, ma’am?” “Oh yeah,” I answered. You see, there was a rare species of fish living in my pond. Years ago, I registered it with your organization. And without authorization, someone simply filled it in.When it comes to endangered animals, those agency people don’t play around, I can assure you. After a few days, they were at Brian’s door demanding an eye-watering fine. “We represent the Environmental Protection Agency, sir,” one of the representatives stated. “The illegal destruction of a protected habitat on your neighbor’s property is the reason we are here.” Brian’s expression turned pallid. How come? habitat that is protected? It was merely a pond. “Mr. Thompson, a pond that was home to a rare species of fish that was registered.” We have proof that you destroyed it without the required authority.”This is absurd!” Brian’s voice rose as he sputtered. “That elderly woman’s pond was a bother! I was being helpful to the neighborhood!That “favor,” sir, carries a $50,000 penalties for breaking environmental protection regulations. Brian was in complete shock. “Fifty thou—You have to be kidding! It’s all a miscommunication. The pond was that. I overheard their chat in private and had to smile. I wasn’t finished, though. With all due respect, my grandson Ethan is a highly successful lawyer in the city. I rang him. “Ethan, sweetie,” I spoke. “How about helping your grandmother take a stern look at a bully in the neighborhood?” Ethan was only too glad to assist. Brian was issued with papers for mental distress and property damage before he could pronounce “frivolous lawsuit.” I could have stopped there, but I needed to play one more card.

Karen, Brian’s wife, had always seemed like a good person. I decided it was time for a quick conversation after seeing her get home from work one evening. “Evening, Karen,” I murmured. “A moment, please?” Despite her fatigue, she managed a smile. Naturally, Margaret. What are your thoughts?I told her the truth about the pond and invited her over for a cup of tea. I told her about the fish and frogs, the kids learning to swim in it, my grandfather digging it, and the summer nights spent by it. As I spoke, Karen’s expression changed from bewildered to horrified. “Margaret, I didn’t know,” she exclaimed. “Brian informed me that the pond was filled per the city’s order for security.” “All right,” I patted her hand. “You understand the truth now.” The days that followed were peaceful. When Brian’s automobile vanished, the rumors in the neighborhood spread like wildfire. Word got out that after finding out what Brian had done, Karen had asked him to leave. Then, one morning, I heard equipment rumbling when I woke up. I almost lost my balance when I glanced out my window. My yard was being worked by a crew, and they were digging! Running outside, I saw Karen in charge of everything. She grinned at the sight of me. “Good morning, Margaret. If it’s okay with you, I felt that it was time to make things right. It came out that Karen had contracted with workers to fix my pond. She confided in me while we observed them at work. She murmured, “Brian’s been involved in some shady business dealings.” “He was simply lashing out at his own problems, which is what led to the whole pond thing.”Nevertheless, the environmental office dismissed its allegations after the pond was repaired. Ethan also persuaded me to drop the lawsuit in the interim. That boy has a gift for language. Brian, on the other hand, with his tail between his legs, skulked off to another state. Karen, however, started to visit frequently. She even began assisting me with pond maintenance, claiming it was the least she could do. Karen turned to face me and a twinkle appeared in her eye as we sat by the recently rebuilt pond one evening, watching the sunset reflected off the water. “You know, Margaret, I’m glad Brian messed with your pond. I never thought I’d say this.” I arched an eyebrow. Oh, I see. And why is it the case? She grinned. “Because I might not have realized what a wonderful neighbor I had right next door if he hadn’t.” We chuckled and clinked our glasses of iced tea. Who would have guessed that a small pond could be both so troublesome and beneficial? Thus, here I am, seventy-four years old, with a pond that has been restored, a new buddy, and a tale that will be discussed for years to come at family get-togethers. Indeed, life has a way of taking you by surprise. If there’s one thing to take away from all of this, believe me when I say this: you should never undervalue a resentful grandmother and a capable family lawyer!

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