My mother-in-law attempted to ruin my birthday by giving me an awful present. But this time, I resisted her harassment and bullying, and with my husband’s assistance, I was able to exact revenge and gain the upper hand. I wasn’t expecting anyone when there was a knock at the door after lunch two weeks ago.
It was my birthday, and the day had begun wonderfully, with calls from friends, hugs from family, and loads of love from my spouse and our child. However, I had no idea that it was going to get seriously messed up!Mark was upstairs nursing our baby while he cleaned the counters in the kitchen.
A delivery man was standing outside with a huge crate wrapped in cheerful paper when I opened the door. The size of the box, which nearly filled the doorway, was almost ridiculous.”Who in the world is this?” As I assisted the delivery man in moving the box inside, I whispered to myself in shock. Mark entered, intrigued.
That’s a big one, wow! He questioned, leaning against the wall and grinning slightly. “Who’s it from?”I shrugged, looking equally confused. A little note fell out and fluttered to the floor as I began to untie the ribbon and pull back the wrapping paper. I picked it up and could read the handwriting right away.
My heart fell. “From the amazing woman who bestowed upon you a husband.” I read it out loud, a hint of skepticism in my voice. My spouse groaned as he accepted the note from me and his smile waved. With a cold voice, I said, “It’s from your mother.” Mark’s features briefly stiffened before he covered them with a comforting smile. Trying to remain upbeat, he said, “Maybe it’s not as bad as you think, Jane.” Though my instinct told me different, I wanted to believe him. My mother-in-law (MIL), Linda, publicly expressed her contempt and hate for me from the first day we met. Small, incisive observations were all that was spoken at first, nothing overt.You work in marketing, I see. How… charming,” she would remark, smirking a little. “Don’t you think my son deserves someone who can match his intellect?” The remarks increased sharper over time, particularly after Mark and I were married.
You know how much we cherish tradition in our family. Taking care of her spouse and kids at home is a woman’s place. She would add, “I hope you’re up for the task, dear.” She also never shirked from reminding me of my humble beginnings.And her dislike grew stronger after I gave birth to our child. She never paid us a visit when we were in the hospital or after we went back home. Rather, she wrote a brief email that said, “I can’t say I’m thrilled about the influence you’ll have on my grandchild, but I trust that you’re both managing.” Mark attempted to dismiss her remarks, stating that she didn’t mean them to sound that way. They still hurt, though.
I was startled to see this massive package in front of me and felt a knot of fear tighten in my gut. Was she trying to make amends with him? Or was it just one more sarcastic, hostile jab? Mark urged gently, “Go on, open it,” but I could sense the uneasiness in his voice. I tore off the remaining wrapping paper with shaky hands, exposing a basic, unremarkable box underneath. I opened the flaps after a little moment of hesitation.
My heart fell at what I saw when I arrived.I was seeing things that I couldn’t believe. There was a stack of enormous, antiquated, and, to be honest, disgusting garments within. Every one of them was a 3X or 4X. If those outfits had been in style fifty years ago, that would have been a good amount of fashion! It seemed like the fabric had been kept in a moist cellar for decades because it was stained, had frayed at the edges, and smelled strongly of mildew.
When I recognized that this was a deliberate, vicious insult, my hands began to shake. Linda wasn’t only making fun of my humble upbringing; she was also attempting to make me feel as bad as possible! Mark, who was standing next to me, paled at the sight of the garments. Without saying anything, he reached for his phone and quickly dialed his mother’s number, his expression becoming more serious with each ring.My hubby didn’t waste any time in responding! He yelled, “Mom, what have you done!?” and put the phone on speaker so I could hear both of them. After a brief pause, Linda’s icy and disdainful voice could be heard. “Mark, what’s the deal? Do you not value a well-considered gift? “A considerate present? Are you joking with me? Mark’s
A murmur of astonishment and anger was rising now. “On purpose, you delivered my wife a box of rags too small for a circus clown! What goals do you have in mind? “Mark, I’m not attempting to do anything. In a tone rife with deceit, Linda answered, “I just felt Jane could use some new clothes.” “New attire? These artifacts date back to the Stone Age! Mother, they’re not even her size. This is repulsive! Mark’s cheeks was flushed with rage as he began to shout.
I was feeling a range of emotions as I stood there. I experienced hurt, rage, and an unidentified feeling. Was there a sense of relief? Feeling relieved that Mark could now finally recognize his mother for the true woman she was?Linda’s tone became cold. “You’re going too far. I simply believed that she might value something different. I’m not to blame for her basic taste. My husband’s teeth tightened.
Taste is not the issue here, Mom. This has to do with respect, which you obviously don’t have for Jane! I’ve had enough of your games.With fury still shaking his hands, he quickly ended the call. He turned to face me, consoling me as his countenance softened.
“I’m very sorry, Jane. I was unaware that she would take such an action. I took a deep breath and tried to control my feelings. I was so angry and heartbroken that it was overwhelming. “Baby, it’s not your fault.” Not only was my MIL being spiteful, but she had purposefully tried to make me look bad on my special day! I had to stop her from getting away with this. It was past time she realized there were repercussions for her conduct. To my astonishment, my husband remarked, “Let’s teach her a lesson,” as soon as he noticed the resolution in my eyes.
We believed that the only way to tell her that I wouldn’t put up with her bullying was to devise a dangerous plan, which is exactly what we did. For the following few hours, we meticulously recorded each item within that box. I made sure to photograph every blemish, rip, and indication of wear and tear on every article of apparel. I wanted to make sure that what Linda had sent me could not be disputed.We were repackaging the box when I got an idea. With a hint of malice in my voice, I remarked, “Let’s add a little something extra.” We discovered a framed picture of our little one, Mark, and me all grinning and content.
I wrote a note to accompany it that was intended to convey a particular message: “We might not match your idealized picture, but we are a family, and you cannot split us apart.” Mark explained what had happened to his father and sister over the phone the following day. His father groaned deeply; he was always the broker of peace. “I’m not shocked. For as long as I’ve known her, this is how she has always been. However, this is a record low. Melanie, his sister, spoke up more. “That woman is crazy! Jane, I really apologize. Lately, she has become intolerable. Someone needs to set her straight. We implemented our plan with their help. We thought Linda would fall for the ruse of a laid-back late birthday celebration, so we invited her over.
She accepted, much to our relief, perhaps anticipating another chance to show off her power.On that day, Linda entered the room with her customary air of superiority. After escorting her to her seat, we noticed that she had a picture album with an inventory of all the filthy clothes she had given me. She opened the album out of curiosity and gasped when she saw what she was staring at. “What’s this?” she inquired of Mark. Are you unable to identify them? It’s the outfits that you gifted Jane on her birthday.
We have chosen to give them to you again. She tried to lie, “I don’t remember giving her any clothes,” while her daughter and husband watched and listened. We asked her to follow us into the living room, expecting that she would attempt to retract what she had done.
When she noticed the enormous box positioned in the center, she froze. She had used the same paper to wrap it. “A surprise!” I said, giving her the same phony smile that she always gave me. “We decided to give it back to you improved because we wanted to express our gratitude for your kind gift.” Linda was obviously bewildered as her gaze jumped between the package and the gathered relatives. Mark’s sister and father observed her.
Watching curiously for her response. My husband, folding his arms over his chest, urged me to open it and show them exactly what I got my wife for her birthday. Linda paused, but she had no option because everyone was staring at her. With a furious expression, she ripped off the wrapping paper and opened the box, revealing the clothes she had sent me. Next, she discovered the framed picture, her message to me, and an additional letter.
Her hands trembled as she gripped the photo, her face flushed with rage. She demanded, her voice fluttering between amazement and rage, “What is this?” It serves as a reminder that I will not disappear, despite your best efforts to minimize me. As a team, Mark and I are parenting our child in a loving, not hostile, environment. My spouse then moved forward and said, “You can either be a part of that or stay away.” However, we won’t put up with any more of your games. Melanie, Mark’s sister, reached for the note that was part of my mother’s “gift” to me and gave it to her father.
After reading it, Mark’s father shook his head dissatisfied. That’s not good, Linda. even in your case. Melanie gave a supportive nod as she expressed her agreement. Mom, you’ve crossed too much. It’s time to give up. With stunned silence, Linda’s eyes shifted from the box to her family members’ expressions. She became aware that she was vulnerable, outnumbered, and outwitted. This was it; there was no turning back. Mark stepped forward, his voice forceful. “Mom, you won’t be allowed back in our life if you ever do something like this.
You must determine which is more essential to you, your family or your pride. With her shoulders hunched, Linda whispered a scarcely perceptible apology. Gathering her belongings hurriedly, she exited the house.
With a finality that marked the end of her reign of terror, the door closed behind her. She made a few hesitant attempts at reconciliation in the days that followed, her messages seeming to be filled with sincere regret. If she really meant them, though, only time would tell.
For my part, I had never felt more in control. I was able to turn the tables on her cruelty. What’s the best thing, then? At last, the other members of the family saw her true nature! I ended up laughing harder than she did, even though she might have thought I was smart. And that’s how, without even trying, I exacted sweet, epic retribution on my mother-in-law!
