When Phoebe’s mother-in-law moves in for the week, she doesn’t just take the guest room. No, she takes Phoebe’s entire bedroom. And her husband, Jake, lets it happen. But if they want to treat her like a guest in her own home, she’ll show them exactly what checking out looks like.
I was actually excited when Doreen announced she was coming to stay for a week.
I fluffed the pillows in the guest room, put out fresh towels, and even stocked the bathroom with lavender-scented soap because I was feeling extra generous.
A beautiful guest bedroom | Source: Midjourney
To top it off, I made her a batch of scones and cranberry and chocolate muffins. I was on my A-game.
This was my mother-in-law, after all. I wanted her to feel welcome.
What I didn’t realize, though, was that she was planning a hostile takeover.
Food on a kitchen counter | Source: Midjourney
That afternoon, I came home from work thinking that Doreen would have made us dinner. Secretly, I was hoping for her delicious stew and homemade rolls.
But it turned out that she had something else cooking.
I got into the quiet house, and stepped into my room, wanting to change into sweatpants and a sweater.
A pot of stew | Source: Midjourney
But instead of finding my room as it should have been, I found Doreen.
She was standing in the middle of my bedroom, happily unpacking her suitcase…
While tossing my clothes on the floor!
An older woman standing in front of a closet | Source: Midjourney
My dresses? Crumpled into a heap.
My shoes? Shoved into laundry baskets.
Her things? Neatly hung up in my closet like she owned the place.
For a moment, my brain refused to process what I was seeing.
A pile of clothing on the floor | Source: Midjourney
This woman hadn’t just taken over the room, she had erased me from it.
“Oh! Good. You’re back, Phoebe!” she chirped, barely glancing at me. “Be a sweetheart and move your stuff to the guest room, would you? There’s hardly any space in here with all my things.”
I just stared at her, still trying to understand how we got here.
Then Jake walked in, carrying her second suitcase like some hotel bellhop.
A shocked woman standing in a bedroom | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, Pheebs,” he said, like this was all completely normal. “Can you clear out of the room? Mom needs to rest. She’s had a long flight. You can set up in the guest room for the week. I’ll be in my office because you know my back can’t handle the guest room bed.”
There was my husband, talking to me like I was the intruder. Like I was someone he could just push around. Like my name wasn’t on the mortgage.
“I’m sorry, what?” I blinked. “You were saying?”
A man standing in a bedroom | Source: Midjourney
Jake sighed deeply. It was like I was being difficult.
“Come on, Phoebe, it’s not a big deal, babe.”
He set Doreen’s suitcase down at the foot of my bed and straightened up.
“Mom is used to better accommodations, and we want her to be comfortable. It’s only a week, Phoebe. You’ll survive the guest room.”
A suitcase in a bedroom | Source: Midjourney
I’d survive the guest room? I couldn’t believe that this was coming from Jake. Moments ago, he had complained about the bed in the guest room, and now I was supposed to go in there and sleep like everything was fine?
What about what I was used to? What about… me?
I turned back to Doreen. She had already settled onto my bed, propped up against my pillows, scrolling on her phone like a queen in her palace.
“Honestly, dear,” Doreen said, not even looking up from her phone. “It’s the least you could do. Family takes care of family, after all.”
An older woman sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney
I felt something hot and bitter rise in my throat.
Family.
Funny how “family” only applies when I’m the one being inconvenienced.
“So let me get this straight,” I said. My voice came out calm, steady. “Your solution to having a guest in our home… was to move me out of my own bedroom?”
Jake rubbed the back of his neck.
A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney
“Well, when you put it like that…”
“I literally just walked in and found my clothes in a pile on the floor,” I cut in, my voice sharper now.
I turned to Doreen.
“Did it ever even cross your mind to just, oh, I don’t know, stay in the guest room? I had it set up for you, too.”
Doreen finally looked at me, her expression shifting into something condescending and sickly sweet.
“Oh, honey. The guest room is far too small for me, Phoebe. It’s perfectly fine for you, though.”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, is it?” I laughed.
I actually laughed out loud.
Jake shot me a warning look.
“Phoebe, let’s not make this a thing. Please.”
I looked at my husband. Like, I really looked at him.
A man standing in a bedroom | Source: Midjourney
The way he wouldn’t quite meet my eyes. The way he stood there, not on my side. The way he had known this was happening and didn’t think I deserved a conversation about it.
My chest felt tight.
This wasn’t just about the bed. It wasn’t even about the room. It was about respect and me realizing that I didn’t have any from them.
And suddenly?
A woman standing in a bedroom | Source: Midjourney
I was done.
I didn’t yell. I didn’t argue. I just smiled.
Then, I walked to the guest room. Jake thought I was moving into the guest room?
Oh, I was moving, all right.
I grabbed a suitcase and packed a few essentials. I took some clothes, my toiletries, and my laptop. Then, I wrote a very special note and left it on the guest room nightstand.
A gray suitcase in a bedroom | Source: Midjourney
Since you two clearly have everything under control at home, I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy your week together. I’ll be back when the house feels like mine again.
Best of luck!
Then, I picked up my purse, turned my phone on silent, and walked out of the front door.
A note on a nightstand | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t go to my sister’s. I didn’t go to a friend’s.
Nah. There was no need for any of that.
Instead, I checked myself into a luxury hotel across town. I made sure that there was a spa, room service, and a king-sized bed that no one could try to steal out from under me.
And because life is all about balance, I booked it all on Jake’s credit card.
The interior of a hotel | Source: Midjourney
The steam curled around me, thick and warm, as I sank deeper into the plush chair of the relaxation lounge. Somewhere in the background, soft instrumental music played.
It was the kind of music that was designed to melt stress away.
“Your water, ma’am,” a soft voice said to my side. “It’s cucumber and lemon infused.”
I had been in the spa for hours. Wrapped in a robe. Slippers on my feet. And nothing but peace around me.
And yet?
A glass of lemon and cucumber water | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t relax.
The whole point of this, leaving my home and checking into a hotel, was to enjoy myself. To wash the situation off me like a bad dream.
But instead, I sat thinking about it all and how it had unfolded.
I exhaled slowly, staring down at my hands.
Why did it hurt so much?
A woman sitting in a spa | Source: Midjourney
It wasn’t just about my bedroom or about Doreen. It was about Jake.
It was about the way he had looked at me when I walked into that room. Like I was being unreasonable. Like I was the one making things difficult.
He had asked me to move like it was a favor. Like I wasn’t his wife, who deserved the same care and attention that his mother had received.
A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney
I swallowed hard, pressing my fingertips against my temples.
For years, I had been accommodating. For years, I had let Doreen’s little jabs and subtle insults roll off my back. For years, I had told myself that “she didn’t mean it like that. Don’t make a big deal about it.”
And now?
Now she had tossed my clothes on the floor and made herself at home in my bedroom.
And Jake had let her!
I squeezed my eyes shut.
A woman at a spa | Source: Midjourney
I married Jake because I thought he saw me. Because I thought he valued me. But today had proved something I didn’t want to admit.
I was an afterthought in Jake’s life.
I clenched my jaw and sat up straighter.
No.
I wasn’t going to sit here drowning in this. I wasn’t going to let this spiral into something that ate me alive.
A determined woman | Source: Midjourney
I had left for a reason. And I had made my point. And if Jake wanted me back in that house, he was going to have to understand exactly why I left in the first place.
I took a slow sip of my water, letting the coolness settle in my chest.
For now?
I was going to finish my spa day.
But soon?
I was going to have a conversation Jake would never forget.
A woman having a spa treatment | Source: Midjourney
I walked through the front door of my house, dropped my bag onto the entryway table, and let the silence settle around me.
It smelled clean, like lemon-scented polish and fabric softener. Like someone had been desperately trying to make the house feel normal again.
Good.
A foyer | Source: Midjourney
I had only made it three steps into the living room before I saw him.
Jake was already waiting.
His arms were crossed, jaw tight. His dark circles told me that he hadn’t been sleeping well.
Good.
“Phoebe, you’re back,” he said, his voice unreadable.
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“I live here, Jake,” I said simply.
Something flickered in his expression, but he masked it quickly.
“Well, thanks for finally coming home.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “Did my absence inconvenience you?”
“You didn’t have to leave.”
A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
I laughed.
“I didn’t?” I gestured toward the bedroom. “Jake, you and your mother literally kicked me out of my own bed. You didn’t ask. You didn’t suggest. You told me.”
He sighed.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then how did you mean it?” I challenged. “Because from where I was standing, it looked a hell of a lot like you were telling me I didn’t belong in my own damn home.”
A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney
Silence.
I could see my husband fighting with himself, wanting to defend his actions but also knowing I was right.
“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” he said finally.
I nodded slowly, absorbing the words. There it was.
“You didn’t think it was a big deal?” I repeated. “Of course, you didn’t. Because it wasn’t your bed being taken—you willingly gave it. Your clothes weren’t thrown to the floor, your cupboard was perfectly untouched…”
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
He flinched.
“Jake, you stood there and watched while she erased me from our space. You just let it happen.”
“That’s not what I meant to do,” he said, his expression finally cracking under the pressure.
“But it’s what you did.”
He swallowed, looking down. And for the first time, I could see it. The weight of everything sinking in.
A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“I thought I was keeping the peace,” he said.
We were both silent for a while.
“She left early, you know,” he said. “She said that she needed the cooking and cleaning to be done if she was going to be relaxed. She couldn’t handle the fact that she needed to do it.”
“I know,” I said. “I didn’t expect her to stick around long after I left. She just wanted to be waited on.”
A glum woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“She crossed a line in this house, Phoebe,” he said suddenly.
“Yeah, Jake,” I said, holding his gaze. “She did. And so did you.”
He looked down again, nodding slightly.
For the first time since I had walked in, I saw it. The realization.
Not just that he had messed up. But why.
An upset man | Source: Midjourney
When he finally met my eyes again, he looked exhausted.
“I hate that you felt like you had to leave,” he admitted.
“I hate that I wasn’t made to feel like I could stay,” I continued.
Silence.
I watched him for a moment, gauging the sincerity. He meant it.
A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“Good.”
“I’ll order takeout,” he said after a pause.
“Fine with me, Jake,” I said.
Then I walked past him toward our bedroom, where my clothes were back in place. Where my things were neatly put away. And where, finally, I belonged again.
Indian takeout on a kitchen counter | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
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.
Our Disgusting Colleague Constantly Broke Hygienic & Etiquette Rules – We Found Way to Teach Her a Lesson
Just when Ashley thought her office life couldn’t get more chaotic, along comes Karen, turning every rule of workplace decorum on its head. With Karen’s disruptive behavior peaking, Ashley plans a birthday surprise that could mend fences or alter office dynamics forever.
A woman sitting around table holding a tablet | Source: Unsplash
Hi everyone, I’m Ashley. I have a story about office life quirks that might sound familiar to many of you. So, buckle up, and don’t hesitate to chime in if you’ve ever found yourself in a similar situation.
Three office workers chatting and laughing | Source: Unsplash
I work at an advertising firm—a place where no two days are the same. Some days crawl by, while others whiz past so fast you barely have time to catch your breath.
A group of cheerful multi-ethnic colleagues having a party after work | Source: Pexels
Last-minute surprises? A regular feature. But despite the chaos, I genuinely enjoy what I do. I’m surrounded by awesome colleagues, and the workplace vibe is top-notch. Well, it was top-notch, until Karen came along.
A woman in a red sweater leaning on a table while working | Source: Pexels
Now, I’m all for welcoming new faces. Newcomers stir things up, bring fresh ideas and skills, and generally pump new life into the team. But Karen… well, she’s a different story. It’s not that her work is bad, per se—it’s just that there’s a lot left to be desired, particularly in the ‘attitude’ department.
Dirty glasses and plates by the sink | Source: Pexels
So, Karen was quite the character. She had this habit that drove all of us up the wall. Every day after lunch, while the rest of us made sure to clean up our dishes and keep the kitchen tidy, Karen would just leave hers in the sink. Not a care in the world, just her dirty plates piling up.
A female office worker relaxing with her feet on the table | Source: Pexels
And if that weren’t enough to test our patience, her favorite pastime during work hours was napping. But not just any napping. Picture this: Karen, sprawled out in her office chair, legs thrown up on the table, shoes marking the surface with all kinds of dirt. It was a sight.
The snoring was the worst part! It was like having a freight train running through the room. Every. Single. Day.
An indoor swimming pool | Source: Pexels
But it gets worse. Once a week, we would head to the pool for a relaxing break from the daily grind. Except Karen decided it was the perfect place to… file her feet. Right there in the shower area while we were all around. Gross, right? Super disgusting.
A woman filing her feet | Source: freepik
Then, there was the lunch incident. Imagine sitting at a restaurant, trying to enjoy your meal, and there’s Karen, at the same table, flossing her teeth. Not discreetly, but openly.
Two women having lunch outdoors | Source: Pexels
One time, a piece of whatever she had for breakfast shot out and landed smack on my friend’s and my face. We were mortified. That was it. The absolute last straw.
A woman holding a dental floss | Source: freepik
My friend, I, and nearly all our colleagues were fed up. So, we came up with a plan. Karen’s birthday was coming up, and we figured it was the perfect opportunity to clue her in on her less-than-charming habits. It was high time for a lesson, and we were just the folks to deliver it.
A group of people talking and looking at a laptop | Source: Pexels
So Karen’s birthday rolls around, and we decide to go all out. The whole department comes together, balloons floating everywhere, a big cake sitting proudly on the table, and of course, a special present just for her.
She walks in, sees the setup, and her face lights up. “Oh, guys, you shouldn’t have…” she exclaims, genuinely surprised.
Happy young women holding stacked presents | Source: Pexels
As she begins to unwrap her gift, we all gather around, watching eagerly. The moment she pulls off the last piece of wrapping paper, her expression changes dramatically.
A woman looking at a white paper in her hands | Source: Pexels
There, in her hands, is a huge poster framed beautifully but the content? Not so beautiful for her. It’s a list of etiquette and hygiene rules we all felt she desperately needed to follow.
A woman unwrapping her birthday gift | Source: Pexels
Her face turned a deep shade of purple as she read the list aloud: ‘Wash your dirty dishes, no sleeping in the office, stop the loud snoring, and please, for the love of God, stop filing your feet in the pool shower area and flossing your teeth at meals.’
The room fell silent for a moment, everyone holding their breath. But we didn’t stop there.
A fondant cake on a stand | Source: Unsplash
We made sure these new ‘rules to live by’ were impossible to miss. Each rule was also plastered on the cake and written on each balloon floating around the room. We wanted to make sure our sweet Karen wouldn’t forget them anytime soon.
A shocked woman covering her eyes with one hand | Source: Pexels
The mix of shock and realization on Karen’s face said it all. This birthday, she got a gift that would keep on giving—hopefully, a nudge towards better office etiquette.
Balloons beside a white wall | Source: Pexels
Now, before you jump to conclusions about why we took such a drastic measure when we could have just had a simple chat with Karen—trust me, we tried.
Work colleagues having a conversation | Source: Pexels
And not just a casual mention; we really sat down with her and laid it all out, super politely. We told her how her habits were affecting the office atmosphere.
A woman sitting alone next to a birthday cake and presents | Source: Pexels
She nodded, promised to be more considerate, and everything seemed like it was going to be okay. But, alas, nothing changed. It was as if our conversation never happened. So yeah, we went with the drastic step.
Why her birthday, you ask? Well, it’s not a day one easily forgets, right? And we figured it would make the message stick.
Photographs lying beside a birthday cake | Source: Pexels
Plus, we made sure to document the whole thing. Pictures, videos—the works. These weren’t just for laughs; they served as a kind of proof, something to remind Karen of her promise in case she slipped back into old habits.
After unveiling the gift, there was a tense moment. Karen was visibly upset, a mix of anger and embarrassment coloring her features.
A brown-haired woman with confetti in her hair | Source: Pexels
She wasn’t expecting to be ambushed with a ‘hygiene intervention’ in front of everyone on her special day. Honestly, it took her a moment, but once the initial shock wore off, she agreed—again—to follow the rules we’d laid out.
This time, though, there was a serious undertone to her agreement. Maybe the public nature of the intervention made the difference.
Office workers doing a high five | Source: Pexels
What about you? Have you ever dealt with a ‘Karen’ at your workplace? How would you have handled the situation? Would you have done the intervention differently, maybe more privately, or not at all? Drop your thoughts and let’s chat about the wild world of office dynamics. I’m all ears!
A woman enjoying a drink while working on her laptop | Source: Pexels
Take a look at another interesting story below:
I Served a Woman Who Mocked Me throughout High School & Finally Got My Revenge after 20 Years
Under the soft glow of the evening lights, the restaurant buzzed with the cheerful din of a successful night. Yet, as I moved between the tables, careful not to bump into any sharp table corners, a familiar and unwelcome face caught my eye—Karen.
An interior of a restaurant | Source: Pexels
She hadn’t changed at all. Even after 20 years, the same haughty expression adorned her face, a look that had tormented me throughout my school years with her cruel taunts about my lisping and stuttering.
Suddenly, I was taken back to high school where my lisp was at its worst, making me second guess speaking.
An angry woman with folded arms | Source: Pexels
School speeches were the worst part of my entire schooling life, where girls like Karen would begin laughing from behind their hands and end up hanging off their chairs, tears streaming down their faces.
I would escape to the library and spend every free moment there, just to escape the taunts.
Teenagers taking a selfie | Source: Pexels
I remember the one incident where I was clutching my books tightly to my chest, trying to make myself smaller, trying to blend into the gray of the lockers as Karen navigated the sea of students, in her impossibly high heels.
I could feel Karen’s gaze like a spotlight, singling me out from the crowd.
A row of gray lockers | Source: Pexels
“There’s Lisp-Lily, boys!” Karen’s voice boomed, drawing a circle of laughter around me.
“Give us a smile and a speech, Lily,” she said. “Show us that stellar s-s-stutter,” she mocked, her words stretching out with malicious exaggeration.
A girl sitting on a chair | Source: Pexels
I remember wanting to cry myself to sleep that night. I sat in the kitchen with my brother, Alex, and I told him all about the events of the day and how Karen had lost it.
“You should give it back to her, Lily,” my brother said, spooning ice cream into a bowl for me.
Two bowls of ice cream | Source: Pexels
“If I could, I would,” I said. “But the moment I open my mouth, you know what happens.”
My brother went off on a tangent about how I should never allow anyone to make me feel less than myself.
“You’ve got to stand up for yourself,” he said.
A smiling young man | Source: Pexels
And I did. In my own way.
Click here to find out what happened next.
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