Our Stepdad Gifted My Mom a Pack of Toilet Paper for Her Birthday — Our Revenge on Him Was Harsh

My stepdad always made a big deal about being the “man of the house,” but when his “special gift” for my mom’s birthday turned out to be a pack of toilet paper, I decided it was time for payback. And let’s just say someone else ended up desperately needing that present.

My stepfather, Jeff, loved reminding us he was the breadwinner of the house throughout our entire childhood. Anytime we sat down to dinner, he’d start with his usual spiel.

A man lauhing at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney

A man lauhing at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney

“You’re lucky I keep this roof over your heads,” he’d say and chortle. He also said it all the time while leaning back on his worn-out recliner. It was his favorite thing in the world.

My mom, Jane, always nodded along. She was the kind of woman who avoided conflict at any cost. She wasn’t raised in the 1950s, but her upbringing had been different from ours. Staying quiet had become almost an art form for her.

As her kids, my siblings (Chloe, Lily, and Anthony) and I could see that she desperately wanted to speak up but didn’t. Meanwhile, we surely didn’t consider him “the king of the castle” or a “real man,” which were other phrases Jeff used to describe himself.

A woman at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney

A woman at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney

Yes, he paid all the bills while we were growing up, and we were thankful. But that wasn’t an excuse to treat our mother like a servant and think he was better than the rest of us.

We had tried for years to get Mom to leave him to no avail.

Eventually, we all moved out of their house as we reached adulthood, but my sisters and I continued to visit Mom often. Anthony lived on the other side of the country, but he checked in every other day.

A man on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A man on the phone | Source: Midjourney

Still, we worried about her.

I felt that our visits weren’t enough to truly know what was going on in that house. I often sat alone in my apartment and wondered if Mom would ever leave this man and if there was something he could do to finally make her snap out of her proverbial shackles.

Yes, this is where it gets good.

This year, Jeff simply went too far. For days leading up to Mom’s birthday, he wouldn’t stop bragging about the “special gift” he’d picked out for her.

A man on a reclining chair | Source: Midjourney

A man on a reclining chair | Source: Midjourney

“This one’s going to knock her socks off,” he said over dinner at their house, grinning like a buffoon.

I wanted to believe him. Maybe he had finally decided to treat her with the respect she deserved. But deep down, I knew better. Jeff was Jeff, and people like him never changed.

My mom’s birthday arrived, and of course, my sisters and I were there, sitting in the living room. Jeff had a twinkle in his eyes, and I knew Mom had hope in hers.

Three sisters with presents in their hands | Source: Midjourney

Three sisters with presents in their hands | Source: Midjourney

After she opened our presents, my stepdad handed her a huge, beautifully wrapped package. He was smiling, and my mom’s face lit up as she carefully untied the ribbon.

“Oh, Jeff, you didn’t have to,” she said softly.

“Yes, I did. Go on. Open it,” he urged, leaning forward in his chair.

She unwrapped the box slowly, savoring the moment… until she saw what was inside— toilet paper. 12-pack. Four-ply. Jumbo rolls.

A woman smiling with a big present | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling with a big present | Source: Midjourney

Mom blinked in confusion.

“It’s so soft. Just like you!” Jeff declared, slapping his knee and cackling. “And look, four-ply, to represent your four kids. Perfect, right?”

Mom let out a nervous laugh, but I could see her eyes glistening. My sisters and I exchanged a look. This wasn’t just a bad joke; it was cruel.

We’d had enough. We had to do something.

A woman looking angry | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking angry | Source: Midjourney

***

Two days later, our plan began to take shape. Jeff loved two things: being the “big man” and free food. So, we invited him to a “family dinner” at the Chinese restaurant he always raved about.

Chloe, my youngest sibling, was the one who planted the idea.

“We’ll do it in his favorite place. He won’t suspect a thing,” she said, smirking.

Lily, being the eldest and most practical, raised an eyebrow. “And what happens after?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Chloe replied. “We’ll handle it.”

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

We set the date and made sure to hype it up, so Jeff wouldn’t miss it.

“Dinner’s on us this time,” Chloe told him sweetly

Jeff puffed out his chest. “Well, it’s about time someone else paid for once. I’m glad that being out of the house has finally opened your eyes to how great you fared because of me!”

We rolled our eyes internally.

The restaurant was bustling that night. Shiny red lanterns hung from the ceiling, giving the space a nice reddish glow.

Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

The food from other tables smelled delicious, and I could tell Jeff was hungry as we sat down at our table.

“When are your mom and Lily getting here?” he asked, wrinkling his nose toward the front door.

“Don’t worry. They’ll be here soon. How about we order food anyway?” I suggested, nodding towards Chloe.

She agreed and started rattling off things she wanted, things we specifically planned to order: Szechuan beef, Kung Pao chicken, and the spiciest mapo tofu on the menu.

Chinese menu | Source: Midjourney

Chinese menu | Source: Midjourney

Jeff ordered his usual, but I knew what we had in mind would still work.

Each dish came out looking like a masterpiece of fiery reds and deep browns, garnished with fresh herbs and enough chili to make a grown man cry.

Chloe’s eyes twinkled as the waiter finished arranging everything on the table.

“Jeff, you can handle spicy, right?” she asked, pretending to be concerned.

A woman smiling at Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling at Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Jeff stayed silent for a second, stumped, then nodded quickly. “I didn’t realize you gals wanted to share everything. Of course, I can eat anything. Nothing is ever too spicy for a real man.”

I chimed in with, “Be careful with these, though. They’re pretty hot.”

I just knew my words would make him mad.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Amelia,” Jeff scoffed and took his chopsticks to skewer a piece of beef straight into his mouth.

A man looking serious at a Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A man looking serious at a Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

At first, he gave out an exaggerated moan, to “prove his manliness,” but soon, his face turned redder than the lanterns above us. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he chewed and breathed through his nose.

“Everything alright?” Chloe asked, again faking worry.

“Yes, yes,” he lied through his full mouth. “This is good stuff.”

I was sure Jeff wouldn’t grab more after gulping down an entire glass of Coke, but Chloe and I began eating in earnest.

“Oh, it’s not so spicy after all,” Chloe commented, smiling sugary-sweet. She was baiting him.

A woman smiling with chopsticks in her hand | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling with chopsticks in her hand | Source: Midjourney

I nodded, grabbing more.

Not to be outdone, Jeff began to eat more. He was breathing roughly now, but when we asked if he was alright, he simply said, “This really clears the sinuses, gals.”

Still, his fingers went up and snapped at the waiter to bring him more Coke.

Chloe leaned over and whispered, “He’s going to feel that later.”

“Oh, definitely,” I whispered back, grinning conspiratorially.

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

***

While Jeff was busy showing off his “macho” tolerance for heat, Mom and Lily were busy back at the house with a rented U-Haul and movers.

They worked quickly to load up Mom’s belongings, such as clothes, keepsakes, her favorite chair, and even the toaster. I told them to take the things Mom had given Jeff over the years by saving up when she could: the recliner and his specialty tools.

A truck and workers loading boxes | Source: Midjourney

A truck and workers loading boxes | Source: Midjourney

But the pièce de résistance was Chloe telling them to remove every single roll of toilet paper in the house.

***

Jeff was still red when we left the restaurant, and he was grumbling about Mom and Lily being no-shows. So I just suggested going to the house to see if anything had happened.

When we arrived, everything was ready. The truck had already left. Meanwhile, Mom and Lily were hiding in the garage.

Jeff walked in with Chloe and me right behind him. He barely made it two steps into the living room before he froze.

A dimly lit living room | Source: Midjourney

A dimly lit living room | Source: Midjourney

“Where’s my recliner?” he barked, scanning the empty spot.

“Gone,” Chloe piped in casually, tilting her head. “Mom took what’s hers.”

Jeff turned to us and his face reddened again, but before he could say another word, his stomach gurgled loudly. He doubled over slightly, clutching his gut.

“Oh, man, I think that spicy food—” He paused, looking around frantically.

A man holding his stomach | Source: Midjourney

A man holding his stomach | Source: Midjourney

“Is something wrong, Jeff? I hope it wasn’t the food,” I said, blinking innocently.

He stared daggers at me before bolting down the hall. Moments later, we heard the bathroom door slam.

Lily and Mom appeared out of their hiding spot right in time to hear the sound of Jeff panicking. “What the hell? Where’s all the toilet paper?!” he yelled.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“We took that along with the recliner!” I shouted, laughter bubbling up. “After all, it also belonged to Mom!”

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

“WHAT?” he shouted back.

It seemed like he wasn’t getting it, so Mom stepped closer to the bathroom door. “I’M LEAVING YOU, JEFF! And I took what was mine,” she exclaimed firmly. “Including my dignity.”

Jeff groaned loudly from behind the bathroom door. “You can’t just leave me like this!” he yelled.

“WATCH ME!” Mom replied, adding, “Not that you can right now, but enjoy staying in the bathroom all night!”

A woman next to a closed door | Source: Midjourney

A woman next to a closed door | Source: Midjourney

My sisters and I stared at each other, giggling.

Jeff groaned, and there were other unsavory sounds, which I took as our cue to leave. “Let’s go, Mom,” I said.

She nodded and walked out, thanking us.

***

The next day, Jeff tried to call her. Over and over again, he left voicemails full of fake apologies and pitiful excuses.

“Jane, come on, be reasonable! You can’t just run off like this!” he begged.

A man using a phone | Source: Midjourney

A man using a phone | Source: Midjourney

But Mom didn’t answer or call back.

Instead, Chloe had a better idea.

On his birthday, we sent Jeff a little gift. A jumbo pack of toilet paper, wrapped just as carefully as the one he’d given Mom.

Attached was a handwritten note that read: “For a real man.”

Rolls of toilet paper on a porch | Source: Midjourney

Rolls of toilet paper on a porch | Source: Midjourney

Mom moved in with Lily, a temporary arrangement where we all helped while she found a job. Anthony was delighted to learn about what we had done and wished he was there, too.

From what I hear, Jeff’s still complaining to anyone who’ll listen. But Mom is finally living her life without his control, and we couldn’t be prouder.

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

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.

My Husband and His Mom Ate All the Food I Cooked for Me and the Kids

Sometimes you have to remember your worth and stand up for yourself — this is what I learned after giving birth to my fourth child. Although the lesson came at a cost, I realized the alternative would have had far worse consequences.

Life has been overwhelmingly busy lately. Four months ago, I gave birth to a beautiful boy, Dylan, who joined his three siblings, all under eight. As you can imagine, managing a newborn, along with three other young children is exhausting but fulfilling in a way that’s hard to describe.

A mother and her newborn. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A mother and her newborn. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Becoming a mother has been the most significant role of my life. While pregnant with our first child, Tray, my husband George and I discussed whether I should return to work. We initially agreed that I would stay home for a year before resuming my career. However, when the time came, I realized I wanted to be a full-time mom.

This feeling of profound responsibility towards our children grew stronger with the arrival of each new family member. First Tray, then our daughter Lily, followed by Justin, and finally Dylan. Each addition reinforced my decision to focus on raising them.

A mother spending tim with her kids. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A mother spending tim with her kids. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

However, things at home began to change with Dylan’s birth. My mother-in-law started showing up at our house unannounced. She wasn’t coming to help with the children or the household.

She would say hello, then disappear into the kitchen to help herself to whatever she found, leaving dirty dishes behind. This happened several times, and each instance chipped away at my patience.

A woman sitting in the kitchen enjoying a meal and looking at her phone. For illustration purposes only | Source: Freepik

A woman sitting in the kitchen enjoying a meal and looking at her phone. For illustration purposes only | Source: Freepik

The situation escalated one morning after a particularly trying doctor’s visit with Dylan, who had just received his vaccinations. He was fussy, and I was running on little sleep.

All I craved was a soothing cup of coffee when we returned home. As I settled Dylan in his crib and finally headed to the kitchen, I heard the front door open and the familiar cheer, “Hi, dear! Just came to check on all of you!”

A cup of coffee. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A cup of coffee. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

It took a while to soothe Dylan, and by the time I reached the kitchen for my much-needed coffee, I discovered not only was the pot empty, but I also had no coffee filter left. My mother-in-law, oblivious to my need, casually took the last cup.

Watching her take that last sip, I felt a surge of frustration. Just then, Lily burst into the kitchen, her presence a brief distraction from my brewing anger. “Mommy, can we watch ‘Peppa Pig’?” she asked.

Young girl with her mother in the kitchen. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Young girl with her mother in the kitchen. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Masking my irritation, I smiled and nodded, asking if her brothers wanted to watch too. Once she scampered off, I turned back to face my mother-in-law, who, sensing the tension, quickly left.

When George came home, I told him about the ongoing issues and asked him to speak with his mother. He acknowledged that she had overstepped boundaries but failed to address it with her. That weekend, the unresolved tensions came to a head.

A couple discuss an issue in their relationship. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A couple discuss an issue in their relationship. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

After a night of little rest, overwhelmed by the unending demands of parenting, I managed to gather enough energy to make homemade pizzas with the kids.

They were thrilled with the activity, eagerly anticipating eating their creations for dinner. I put Dylan down for his nap right as dinner time approached, hoping for a peaceful end to the day.

A sliced pizzza. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A sliced pizzza. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

To my dismay, when I returned to the kitchen, I found the pizzas gone. George and his mother were in the lounge, nonchalantly enjoying the last slices.

My exhaustion turned to anger, and I confronted them loudly, asking why they had eaten the children’s dinner. Their shocked faces only increased my frustration. George tried to calm me, but it was too late; I was too upset to listen.

An angry woman. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

An angry woman. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I retreated to our bedroom, slammed the door, and broke down. Why was I the only one trying? Why couldn’t they see how hard I was struggling? Lily’s soft knock on the door pulled me from my despair. “Mommy, where is our pizza?” she asked innocently.

That moment crystallized my resolve. I had to stand up for my children and myself. After reassuring Lily, I confronted George and my mother-in-law again. They attempted to justify their actions by implying concern about my weight. That was the last straw.

A woman confronts her husband and mother-in-law. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A woman confronts her husband and mother-in-law. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Get out, both of you,” I said calmly, my voice firm. They left, and George spent the night at his mother’s house. The relief I felt after they left was palpable.

I ordered pizza for the kids and myself, and as we ate, I made my decision. The next morning, I asked my sister to watch the kids while I filed for divorce. I placed the divorce papers in an empty pizza box on the coffee table for George to discover.

Divorce documentation. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Divorce documentation. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

After informing my parents of the situation, they offered unconditional support. Staying with them allowed me to focus on healing and planning for the future. Within a short time, I regained my strength and prepared to face whatever came my way.

Now, I’m proud of standing up for what’s right for myself and my children. I’ve shown them what strength looks like and taught them the importance of self-respect and making tough decisions for the betterment of one’s future.

A woman enjoying life. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A woman enjoying life. For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Had I not come to this realization, my kids would have grown up thinking it’s okay not to get support, care, or real love from those who claim to love you. Now they know their worth, and I will ensure they never forget it.

Like me, Lanie had a similar experience, but at least my husband didn’t insist I wash the dishes without leaving me anything to eat after tending to our newborn.

Five weeks after Lanie became a first-time mom, her mother-in-law also turned her life upside down. MIL made herself a constant fixture in their home, and it didn’t take long for things to unravel since she wasn’t really there to help Lanie and her husband acclimatize to their new responsibility.

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.

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