My brother and I realized we couldn’t get away with Dad calling Mom “lazy” and making fun of her food when we heard it. What began as a list of Christmas presents evolved into a cunning scheme to give him a lesson he would never forget.
This year’s Christmas with my family felt like something from a sitcom, but the kind that makes you grind your teeth beforehand, I never imagined I’d say that.
I’m Stella, a fourteen-year-old who juggles biology homework, constant squabbles with my sixteen-year-old brother Seth, and the impossible task of keeping my sneakers clean in a house my mom keeps spotless.
Dad, on the other hand, proudly considers himself the “man of the house,” which mostly involves lounging with his feet up, flipping through channels, and providing unsolicited commentary on everything. Don’t get me wrong, I love him—but let’s just say his contributions are… unique.
However, after Christmas, Seth and I are unable to forget what we heard.
Seth and I were skulking around the hallway in search of Mom’s stockpile of wrapped gifts two weeks before to Christmas.
Instead, we happened to overhear Dad having a conversation with his brother, Uncle Nick. He spoke so loudly that his words were clear even through the closed door.
“What to get, Lily?” Dad chuckled as if he were telling a joke. “Just kitchen things, bro. You know, appliances that will truly help her in the kitchen, like mixers, blenders, and cutlery. She is extremely indolent there.
My stomach twisted. Indolent? Was he joking? Mom seldom ever sits down. Seth’s jaw tightened as he glanced at me. He said in a whisper, “Dad can’t be serious.”
Dad wasn’t finished, though. “I’m only stating that perhaps she wouldn’t be such a bad cook if she had nicer appliances. She’s not that good at it anyhow.
The universe seemed to have swung sideways. Although Seth and I weren’t usually in agreement, we didn’t require words at that particular moment. Even before we exited the corridor, we had a strategy.
The scent of freshly baked cookies and pine needles filled the room on Christmas morning. Mom, with her hair in that casual bun she insisted was “practical” yet always looked effortlessly neat, had been baking since the early hours.
On the other hand, Dad relaxed by the fire, sipping his hot chocolate as though he hadn’t just belittled her two weeks ago. Mom, undeterred, continued to refill the coffee pot and pass around mugs, moving with calm precision.
The living room was soon full of family—grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles—sitting in a circle around the tree. Seth and I sat on the couch, trying not to laugh too soon. One by one, the gifts were unwrapped: socks, gift cards, and those unflattering sweaters that no one really wanted but everyone pretended to enjoy.
Then Dad’s turn came.
The first box was given to him by Aunt Patricia. Her smile was beautiful. “This one’s from me, Tanner,” she added.
Dad blinked and ripped the paper off. “Oh. A rod for fishing. Nice.
Aunt Patricia exclaimed, “It’s not just nice—it’s top of the line,” with a broad smile. “Thought you’d love it.”
Dad gave a clumsy laugh. “Yes… Yes, I do. Thank you.
Without missing a beat, Seth handed Dad another box. “Here you go, Dad. From me.”
Another fishing rod. Dad winced but quickly forced a smile. “Thanks, son. Very thoughtful.”
Next, it was my turn. “Merry Christmas, Dad!” I said, trying to sound as sweet and innocent as possible while handing him my gift.
He slowly opened it, maybe expecting a wallet or something useful.
His expression dropped. “Another one?” He chuckled uneasily. “Whoa. “Isn’t three a charm?”
Aunt Claire, Uncle Nick, and even Grandpa came next. Every present was identical: a fishing rod. A twitching frown replaced Dad’s smile by the time the fifth one was opened.
“Hold on a second,” he said, his voice growing louder. “What is this? Fishing rods? This many? Who needs all these?”
At the same time, Mom unwrapped a beautifully packaged, high-end purse, and her laughter filled the room. Her smile shone as brightly as the Christmas lights twinkling around us, and Seth and I couldn’t help but watch, captivated by her joy.
“This purse is stunning, I must say! How were you all aware that I want it? Grasping the silky leather with her fingertips, she questioned.
Uncle Nick smiled from where he stood beside the hearth. “We received assistance. We received a wishlist from the children.
Mom’s eyes grew wide, and she briefly appeared as though she may cry. She looked from Seth to me and muttered, “You two did this?”
We all nodded together while attempting to remain composed. Despite his shrug, Seth’s smile revealed his identity. “You deserve it, Mom.”
Her voice crackled slightly. “I’m grateful. You two. I’ve had the nicest Christmas in a long time.
To be honest, it was worth every moment of preparation to hear her say that.
Let’s go back two weeks. We were incensed when Seth and I heard Dad refer to Mom as “lazy” and a “horrible cook.” It was as though a switch within of us was flipped. We remained up that night in Seth’s room, making sketches of what we dubbed “Operation Outplay.”
I said, “Okay,” and paced his disorganized room. “First, we must put an end to this absurdity of kitchen gadgets. Mom cooks because she has to, not because she enjoys it.
With his arms folded, Seth reclined on his chair. “We then force Dad to retract his statements. literally, if possible.
I grinned. “Let’s start with an email.”
We wrote a letter together to all of the relatives who were coming to celebrate Christmas with us. The email was brief but to the point:
Hello, this is Seth and Stella. To make this Christmas extra special for Mom, we need your assistance. We believe she deserves better, but Dad instructed you to bring her kitchen supplies. This is a list of presents that she will truly adore and treasure.
We listed items Mom had secretly coveted but never purchased for herself: the cozy reading chair she had been eyeing for her tiny library, a spa day gift card, her favorite skincare products, a personalized necklace with our names engraved, and the designer bag she had been wanting for as long as we could remember.
We made one last addition. “Please purchase Dad fishing rods instead of what he requested. as many as is feasible. It’s part of the plan, we assure you.
The replies came in nearly instantly. In response, Aunt Patricia wrote, “Count me in! I’m glad to assist Lily, who puts in a lot of effort. “It’s a fishing rod,” Grandpa continued. This will be enjoyable. Every member of the family was on board by the end of the week.
Let’s fast-forward to Christmas morning. Mom continued to give gifts after Dad lost it over the stack of fishing rods. She started crying when she saw the personalized jewelry. “It’s beautiful,” she remarked, holding it close to her chest. “Thank you, everyone.”
The second package, a gift card for a spa day, was given to her by Seth. “Mom, you need a vacation. For once, go get pampered.
Through her tears, she chuckled. “You two are amazing.”
Dad, meantime, was enraged in his armchair, encircled by his expanding collection of fishing poles. His expression was a mix of bewilderment and irritation. “Can someone please explain this insanity to me? Rods for fishing? Like, really? I’m not even a fisherman.
Uncle Nick smiled and leaned forward. “Dear brother, we assumed you’d want to get started. Since Lily works so hard to prepare meals for you, you know.”
The fire was started by that spark.
“This is ridiculous!” Dad’s voice rose and he snapped. “Where are all the items I instructed you to purchase for Lily? The appliances in the kitchen? “She needs those.”
Mom’s smile faded as she froze. Her tone was stern as she questioned, “You told everyone to get me kitchen stuff?”
Seth folded his arms. Yes, Dad suggested you needed tools to cook more quickly since you were “lazy in the kitchen.” We believed you were worthy of better.
A deep flush came over Dad’s face. “You two—! “I didn’t mean that.”
“Oh really, Dad?” Seth fired back. “Because it sure sounded like that when you were whining to Uncle Nick about how Mom’s ‘too tired to cook for you.’”
There was silence in the room. Everyone was watching Dad.
Mom’s voice wavered, but it was out of rage rather than sadness. “So you’ve been grumbling about me behind my back all this time? And you couldn’t appreciate me, so the kids had to take over? Tanner, you’re not possible!”
“I—I was joking!” said Dad haltingly.
Mom said, “That’s funny,” while crossing her arms. “Because I’m not laughing.”
“Mom’s about to go nuclear,” Seth murmured, leaning in my direction.
“Good,” I returned in a whisper.
After getting up, Mom took one of the fishing poles and sat it down securely in Dad’s lap. “This is it. While you’re learning to fish with your new equipment, you’ll have plenty of opportunity to “joke.”
Dad was about to argue, then changed his mind. Deflated, he sagged back in his chair.
The remainder of the day went flawlessly. Dad pouted in the corner as Mom reveled in everyone’s affection and attention. When the commotion subsided that night, Mom gathered Seth and me in a close embrace.
Her voice was quiet as she replied, “You two have no idea how much this means to me,” “I don’t need fancy things, but knowing you see how hard I work—it’s everything.”
“Of course we see it, Mom,” I responded. “We wanted to express our gratitude to you. for all of your assistance to us.”
“And we wanted Dad to understand it too,” Seth continued. He will reconsider accusing you of being lazy.
Mom wiped her eyes and laughed. “Oh my! You two have my undying affection! You are the greatest. What’s your plan? Brilliant. Seth and Stella, you have my utmost admiration.”
What about the fishing rods? To put it simply, they were a lesson rather than a gift. Dad wouldn’t soon forget it. To begin with, he never again dared to refer to Mom as “lazy” I think it’s safe to say that our plan was more successful than we could have imagined.
