You think you’re entering a dream when you marry the person you love. But that dream can quickly become a nightmare when you receive a list of rules about how to be a “good wife.” This is where my revenge started.
As a child, I always imagined that marriage would be different. I pictured Sunday mornings in bed, sharing laughs and secrets, and a partnership based on love and respect. But reality has a strange way of surprising you.
Dan and I had just gotten married. The wedding was perfect—small, intimate, everything I had always dreamed of. For a while, it felt like a fairy tale. Dan was kind and funny, and I truly believed we shared the same ideas about how we wanted to live our lives together. That was until Karen, his mother, gave me a gift after the ceremony.
I remember standing in our living room, still feeling happy from the wedding, when Karen came up to me with her “special” present.
“This is for you, Lucia. A little something to help you as you start your new role.” She handed me a fancy box with a big smile, but her eyes didn’t match her cheerful expression.
Inside the box was a neatly folded piece of paper. When I opened it, my mouth dropped. At the top, in bold letters, it said: “How to Be a Good Wife for My Son.”
At first, I laughed, thinking it was a joke. Maybe Karen was making fun of those old-fashioned ideas about marriage.
But as I kept reading, my smile faded. It was a real list—actual rules I was supposed to follow as Dan’s wife.
I looked at Dan, hoping he’d be as shocked as I was, but he was busy opening his own gift. A check. A big one, too. And me? I got a rulebook.
Later that evening, Dan came to me with a sheepish grin. “You got the rules my mom gave you, didn’t you?” he asked, as if it were just a casual suggestion, not a guide for a life of serving him.
“Yep… I did,” I replied, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice but not succeeding.
Dan shifted awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, you know, that’s just how it is now. Marriage is different from dating.”
I stared at him, waiting for him to smile, to say it was all a joke. But he didn’t.
“Wait… You’re serious?” I asked, looking at him like I didn’t recognize the man I had just married.
He shrugged. “It’s just how things are. Mom says it’s important to keep order, you know?”
I bit my lip, holding back a sharp reply. Keep order. That’s how they saw me now?
After Dan fell asleep, I read through the list again, my hands shaking with anger. I couldn’t believe the nerve.
At 6 a.m., I had to be fully dressed and made up, cooking a hot breakfast for Dan. No veggies, no milk, no butter—he only likes plain eggs and toast. The toast must be perfectly golden brown, and it has to be served on a blue plate because the green one ruins his appetite.
Do all the grocery shopping myself. Dan hates shopping, and it’s no place for a man. Always buy his favorite beer, but not too much—just enough for football nights, but not so much he gets lazy. And I had to carry everything in myself because it’s unladylike to ask for help.
After dinner, the kitchen had to be spotless before Dan even left the dining room. Men shouldn’t see a mess; they must enter a clean space. And always stack the plates by size, wiping the counters twice because Dan hates crumbs.
Dress conservatively when Dan’s friends come over. We don’t want them thinking I’m too “modern” or that I’m not the “right kind of wife.” A good wife never wears anything above the knee, and the neckline should always be high. Anything else would embarrass Dan in front of his buddies.
Make sure Dan never does his laundry. A good wife always has fresh, ironed clothes ready, and socks folded just right—three folds, not two—because that’s how Dan likes them. He should never have to pick out mismatched socks or wear a wrinkled shirt. It reflects poorly on me if he does.
By the time I finished reading, I was furious. This wasn’t just outdated advice; it was a full-on expectation that I cater to Dan’s every wish like I had no other purpose.
And the worst part? Dan was okay with it. He hadn’t even reacted when I mentioned the rules.
I felt trapped, but I wasn’t going to let them get away with this. If they wanted to play this game, I’d play along, but on my terms.
The morning after I read Karen’s list, I woke up at 6 a.m., just like the rules said. I got out of bed, put on my makeup, and slipped into a nice dress.
I looked at myself in the mirror, quietly laughing at how silly this all was. But if Karen wanted me to play this part, I would—just with a twist.
I went downstairs and made breakfast, just like the rules said: plain toast and eggs. But I didn’t stop there. I took the tiniest slice of toast and a plain boiled egg and put them on Dan’s huge blue plate. The plate was so big that the small meal looked ridiculous.
I carefully set it on the table, smiling sweetly as Dan walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.
He looked at the plate, confused. “Isn’t there… anything else?”
I shook my head, smiling brightly. “Just following the rules. Plain eggs and toast! Want me to make another slice?”
Dan sighed, picking up the toast. “No… this is fine.”
I stood there watching him eat the driest breakfast ever, trying not to laugh. Oh, this was going to be entertaining.
Later that afternoon, I made a big show of going to the grocery store. I took my reusable bags and left the house, making sure Dan saw me go by myself, just like the rules said.
When I got back, I carried in all the bags myself, even the heavy ones. Dan watched from the couch, clearly uncomfortable but saying nothing. As I unpacked, he frowned.
“Where’s the beer? Did you forget it?” he asked.
“Oh no, I didn’t forget,” I said cheerfully. “I just didn’t want you getting lazy. Besides, sparkling water is good for you!”
I pulled out a six-pack of sparkling water, a big bottle of green juice, and some quinoa, knowing he wouldn’t touch any of them. Dan’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything. I could see he was starting to realize something was off, but I was just getting started.
After dinner, I followed the other rules in the letter. I wiped down the counters, washed the dishes, and cleaned the kitchen—but not really.
Instead of putting everything back where it belonged, I rearranged the whole kitchen. Plates went in the bathroom cupboard, utensils in the laundry room, and the toaster? I put that in the hall closet.
Dan came into the kitchen, looking around in confusion. “Why is everything all over the place?”
I turned to him with a worried look. “I’m doing my best! Maybe I need to wipe the counters three times instead of two?”
He blinked at me, totally confused, but he let it go. The fun was just beginning.
When Dan’s friends came over for football night a few days later, I made sure to follow Karen’s rule about dressing modestly. I dug through my closet and found the most old-fashioned outfit I could: a long skirt, high-collared blouse, and a buttoned-up cardigan that looked like something from the 1800s.
As soon as Dan’s friends arrived, I walked into the living room with a tray of snacks. His friends looked me up and down, confused but polite enough not to say anything.
Dan pulled me aside as soon as he could, whispering, “You know you don’t have to dress like that, right?”
I widened my eyes innocently. “But your mom said I have to dress modestly. We wouldn’t want them getting the wrong idea about me, would we?”
Dan’s friends exchanged awkward glances, but I kept smiling sweetly. The look on Dan’s face was priceless; he was starting to see that I was flipping this whole “good wife” idea upside down, and he was stuck going along with it.
Laundry day came, and I followed the rules again, but with a twist. I washed all of Dan’s clothes together: whites, darks, colors—everything went in one load. When I pulled them out, his once-clean shirts were now a lovely shade of pink, and his socks were either shrunk or mismatched.
Dan opened his drawer the next morning, pulling out one wrinkled pink shirt after another. “What happened to my clothes? These socks don’t even match!”
I walked in with an apologetic look. “Oh no! I must’ve messed up. I’ll try folding them in threes next time, just like the rules say.”
He groaned, putting on his mismatched socks before heading to work, completely defeated. I couldn’t help but smile.
By the end of the week, Dan had had enough. He was trying to eat yet another bland breakfast when Karen arrived, her usual smile on her face. She sat at the table, looking pleased.
“Lucia, I’m so glad to see you following the rules! Isn’t life easier now?”
I laughed quietly. “Oh, Karen, you have no idea.”
Dan slammed his fork down, surprising both of us. “Mom, we need to talk.”
Karen blinked, confused. “Talk about what?”
“These rules… they’re crazy,” Dan said, his voice rising. “I’m miserable, Lucia’s miserable, and this isn’t how we’re going to live.”
Karen looked shocked. “But, Dan, I just want to make sure you’re taken care of! I thought this was how marriage should be!”
Dan shot me a glance, and I shrugged. I was just following the rules, right?
“We need to find our own way,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re my wife, not my maid.”
Karen’s face fell, her smile fading. “I was just trying to help. I didn’t mean to upset you both…”
But it was too late. The damage was done. We spent the next few days talking about what we wanted our marriage to look like, finally finding a balance between his mom’s outdated ideas and our modern life.
The change didn’t happen overnight, but eventually, we found a way to laugh about the whole ordeal, especially when Dan had to explain to his mom why he was now making breakfast for me on Saturdays.
Karen never brought up the rules again, and I made sure to return the fancy box she gave me, filled with the crumpled paper and an assortment of mismatched socks. I told her I didn’t need them anymore.
Looking back, I can’t help but think that her gift, while ridiculous, actually brought us closer together. Dan and I learned how to communicate better, and we established what we wanted from our marriage without anyone else’s rules getting in the way.
A Note from the Delivery Guy Made Me Install Security Cameras around My House – I’ll Forever Be Grateful to Him
The delivery guy’s scribbled note sent me rushing to my backyard trash cans, where I discovered something chilling. His cryptic warning may have saved my family from a terrifying fate, but the danger was far from over.
I often order food delivery when I’m too tired to cook for my kids. Over time, we grew close to Ravi, the delivery guy in our area. He’d always chat with Kai and Isla, high-fiving them before leaving. But last Tuesday night was different.
A food delivery man saddling up on his motorcycle | Source: Pexels
When Ravi arrived, he seemed very nervous. Fidgety. He shoved the food into my hands and bolted back to his car without a word.
“What’s up with Ravi?” Kai asked, peering out the window.
I shrugged, watching Ravi’s tail lights disappear down the street. “No idea, buddy. Maybe he’s in a hurry.”
As I brought the food into the kitchen, still puzzled by Ravi’s behavior, I noticed something on the back of the bag. Scrawled in shaky handwriting was a message that made me forget about dinner entirely.
Helpings of fast food laid out on a table | Source: Pexels
“CHECK YOUR TRASH CAN”
I set the food down and turned to my kids. “Hey, why don’t you two go wash up? I’ll get everything ready.”
Once they were out of sight, I bolted to the backyard. The message kept repeating in my head as I approached our trash cans. My hands shook as I lifted the lid of the first one.
A brightly-colored trash can in a backyard | Source: Pexels
Nothing unusual. Just our regular garbage. I moved to the second can, dread building with each step. I threw open the lid and froze.
Inside, wrapped in an old, dirty blanket, was a collection of gloves and what looked like a few small tools. At the bottom sat a bottle without a label, filled with some kind of liquid.
“Mom? Are you okay?” Isla’s voice startled me.
I slammed the lid shut and spun around, forcing a smile. “Yeah, sweetie. Just… checking something. Go on inside, I’ll be right there.”
A woman closing a trash can in a backyard at night | Source: Midjourney
As soon as Isla was gone, I pulled out my phone and dialed the sheriff’s office.
“Sheriff’s Department, this is Leona speaking.”
“Leona, it’s Nora. I need you to come over right away. I found something concerning in my trash.”
“Slow down, Nora. What exactly did you find?”
I described the contents of the trash can, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Don’t touch anything,” Leona said, her tone serious. “I’m on my way. Stay inside with your kids until I get there.”
A police officer on a call in a precinct | Source: Midjourney
I hung up and headed back inside. Our neighborhood had recently experienced a string of break-ins, all with eerily similar methods. Chemicals used to weaken locks, meticulous clean-up of any evidence.
It hit me: my house was being set up for the next break-in.
“Mom, what’s going on?” Kai asked as I entered the kitchen. “You look scared.”
I forced another smile. “Everything’s fine, honey. Let’s eat dinner, okay?”
A woman setting dinner for children at a table | Source: Pexels
We’d barely started eating when there was a knock at the door. I jumped up, but was relieved when I saw Leona through the peephole.
“Kids, stay here and finish your dinner,” I said, stepping outside to talk to Leona.
She listened intently as I recounted finding the items and Ravi’s strange behavior.
“You did the right thing calling me,” Leona said, her eyes scanning the street. “I’ll take a look at what’s in your trash and get it to the lab. In the meantime, I strongly recommend you beef up your security. Also, we’ll patrol the house all night, so in case they re-tool and still try to break in, we’ll nab them red-handed.”
A police officer smiling | Source: Pexels
I nodded, already planning my next move. “I’ll call a security company first thing in the morning.”
Leona placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Try to get some rest, Nora. We’ll figure this out.”
But sleep was the last thing on my mind that night. I spent hours researching security systems, jumping at every little sound outside. By morning, I was a jittery mess of caffeine and anxiety.
A woman working on a laptop computer at night | Source: Pexels
As soon as it hit 8 a.m., I called the first security company on my list. “Hi, I need cameras installed around my house. Today, if possible.”
“Ma’am, our earliest available slot is next week —”
“You don’t understand,” I cut in, my voice cracking. “I think someone’s planning to break into my home. I need those cameras now.”
There must’ve been something in my tone because the receptionist’s voice softened. “Let me see what I can do. Can you hold for a moment?”
A woman on a call in a work environment | Source: Pexels
After what felt like an eternity, she came back on the line. “We’ve had a cancellation. Our team can be there in two hours. Will that work?”
I nearly cried with relief. “Yes, thank you. Thank you so much.”
The next few hours were a blur. I called in sick to work, kept the kids home from school, and paced the house until the security team arrived.
A security camera installed on a wall | Source: Pexels
As they worked, installing cameras and explaining the system to me, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Every car that drove by, every person walking their dog, they all seemed suspicious now.
Just as the security team was finishing up, Leona’s patrol car pulled into my driveway. She got out, her face grim.
“Nora, can we talk inside?”
A parked police patrol vehicle | Source: Pexels
My stomach lurched as I led her into the house. “Kids, why don’t you go play in your rooms for a bit?”
Once they were out of earshot, Leona spoke. “The lab results came back on those items we found. The liquid in the bottle? It’s a powerful corrosive, often used to weaken locks.”
I sank onto the couch, my legs suddenly weak. “So it’s true. They were planning to break in.”
Leona nodded. “It looks that way. But Nora, you’ve done everything right. You’ve got cameras now, you’re aware of the threat. We’re increasing patrols in the area too.”
A policewoman discussing something in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“What about Ravi?” I asked. “Should I talk to him?”
“If you see him, yes. But be careful. We don’t know if he’s involved or just an observant bystander.”
As if on cue, I spotted Ravi pulling up to my neighbor’s house. “He’s here now,” I said, moving to the window.
Leona joined me. “Go talk to him. I’ll watch from here.”
I stepped outside, my pulse racing. Ravi was just getting back onto his bike when he saw me.
A delivery man astride a motorcycle | Source: Pexels
“Hey,” I called out, trying to keep my voice steady. “Got a minute?”
Ravi hesitated, then nodded. As he approached, I could see the tension in his shoulders.
“Look,” he said before I could speak, “I’m sorry about yesterday. I should’ve said something, but I was scared.”
“Scared of what?” I asked, though I had a pretty good idea.
A woman having a conversation with someone in a front yard | Source: Midjourney
Ravi glanced around nervously. “After I parked, I saw these guys messing with your trash. They looked not good, you know? I wanted to warn you, but I was afraid they might still be around.”
I was so relieved. “That’s why you left the note?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry if I freaked you out. I just didn’t know what else to do.”
“Ravi,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “You might have saved my family. Thank you.”
A profile view of a woman talking to someone unseen | Source: Midjourney
His shoulders relaxed a bit. “Really? You’re not mad?”
I shook my head. “Not at all. In fact, I owe you big time.”
As Ravi drove away, I felt grateful but also a little afraid. The threat wasn’t over, but at least now I knew we weren’t facing it alone.
Back inside, Leona was on her phone, talking in hushed tones. She hung up as I approached.
“We’ve got some leads based the description Ravi gave us ,” she said. “We’ll catch these guys, Nora. Just stay vigilant.”
A police officer talking on a mobile phone in a living room | Source: Midjourney
That night, after tucking Kai and Isla into bed, I sat in front of the new security monitors. The cameras showed empty streets and quiet yards, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere out there, someone was watching, waiting for their chance.
I thought about Ravi’s quick thinking, Leona’s dedication, and my own newfound strength. Whatever came next, we’d face it together. For now, all I could do was watch and wait, grateful for the unexpected allies who’d helped keep my family safe.
A woman looking aside thoughtfully | Source: Pexels
What would you have done? If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you about neighbors who installed a camera aimed at a woman’s garden, but she taught them a savage lesson without going to court.
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.
Leave a Reply