I Bought My MIL a $600 Bag She Dreamed of for Christmas, But Her Behavior Made Me Change My Mind

When Brendon’s mother-in-law, Susan, sees the Christmas present pile under the tree, she immediately wants to take away her granddaughter’s gift. And for what? To teach the little girl a lesson: that you cannot always get what you want. Not to be outdone, Brendon teaches Susan a Christmas lesson that she’ll never forget.

It was the first Christmas I could finally afford to splurge a little. I’d landed a new job earlier that year, one with a salary that made it possible to loosen up and enjoy the holidays.

Most of my money went toward gifts for my nine-year-old daughter, Eve. She had been doing so well in school, helping out around the house without us even asking, and being all-around amazing.

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

If anyone deserved to be spoiled, it was her.

But apparently, my mother-in-law, Susan, had other thoughts.

The trouble started when she dropped by one morning, bringing a batch of freshly baked muffins with her. She noticed the Christmas tree practically buried under a pile of wrapped presents. Immediately, her face changed.

Muffins on a table | Source: Midjourney

Muffins on a table | Source: Midjourney

“Wow,” Susan said, crossing her arms as she scanned the room. “Looks like Santa went a little overboard this year, huh?”

I gave her a polite smile, still riding the holiday high.

“I figured it was a good year to do something special. Everyone’s got a little something under the tree… including you,” I laughed.

Her eyebrows lifted.

Christmas presents under a tree | Source: Midjourney

Christmas presents under a tree | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, and what about Evie?” she asked. “How many presents does my granddaughter get?”

What the hell? I thought.

But I knew that tone too well. I kept my response light, hoping to dodge the fight I felt brewing.

“About three big ones and a few smaller boxes,” I said politely.

Susan’s expression shifted from curiosity to indignation so fast it gave me whiplash. She shook her head slowly, her lips pursing like I’d just confessed to some unthinkable crime.

A frowning older woman | Source: Midjourney

A frowning older woman | Source: Midjourney

“That’s way too much for a nine-year-old, Brendon,” she snapped. “She doesn’t need all of that.”

I blinked, caught off guard.

“It’s Christmas, Susan,” I said. “It’s the one day we can go all out. She’s earned it; she’s been working hard all year.”

Susan waved me off, not even pretending to listen to my words.

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney

“No child needs that many gifts,” she said. “I’ll be taking back the doll I bought her. She has to learn that life won’t always give her everything she asks for.”

I stared at the woman standing in front of me. I was in utter disbelief.

“You promised her that doll, Susan! She’s been excited about it for weeks.”

“That’s exactly why she needs to learn a lesson,” Susan said with a smug smile. “Better she learn it now than later.”

A doll in a box | Source: Midjourney

A doll in a box | Source: Midjourney

I bit my tongue, trying to stay civil.

Before I knew it, Eve came running down the stairs.

“Good morning, Gran!” she said, rushing to hug the old woman.

“Hello, darling,” Susan said, giving me a smug look. “Gran’s leaving now, but I’ll see you soon!”

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

I understood the lesson she was trying to teach, really, I did. But this was Christmas! And Eve was nine.

It wasn’t about deprivation, it was about joy. Our daughter wasn’t some spoiled brat, and I saw no reason to punish her on the one day meant for celebration.

As for Melanie, my wife?

She told me to let it go.

“My mother’s gift is hers to decide what to do with,” she said with a shrug later that night as she made grilled fish for dinner. “It’s just a doll, anyway. Will Evie really miss it?”

A tray of grilled fish | Source: Midjourney

A tray of grilled fish | Source: Midjourney

I knew my wife had grown up with her mother’s toxic behavior and probably didn’t want to stir the pot, but it was still too much for me.

Our daughter was counting on that gift, and Susan was taking it away just to prove a point.

That’s when I decided—if Susan was going to play petty games, I could play them better.

See, one of the things I’d bought that year was a designer bag for Susan. It was the one thing she had been talking about for months.

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney

“I was with Cora from the club,” she said. “And we were walking around the mall, and I saw it in the store window. It’s so chic and beautiful. I have to get it!”

She hinted at it every chance she got, practically salivating over it.

And I bought it for her.

My goodness, it was expensive, $600, to be exact. I figured it would score me some brownie points, and honestly, as problematic as she was, I did like the idea of making her happy.

A designer handbag on a table | Source: Midjourney

A designer handbag on a table | Source: Midjourney

But now?

Now I had other plans.

I took the fancy bag out of its box and carefully folded a cheap $40 robe inside. It was a plain thing, just boring gray with no patterns. To be honest, it was the kind of gift you’d pick up in a rush from the clearance bin at the last minute.

I wrapped the box back up with care, making sure the packaging looked pristine.

A gold box with a ribbon | Source: Midjourney

A gold box with a ribbon | Source: Midjourney

“You’re putting way too much effort into this, honey,” Melanie laughed.

“She needs to be taught a lesson, Mel,” I said. “Your mother messed with the wrong man.”

Christmas morning came, and the living room buzzed with excitement as everyone opened their presents. My daughter tore through her gifts, laughter bubbling as she saw all her presents.

Melanie smiled as she unwrapped the cozy scarf and pair of shoes I’d picked for her.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

And then came Susan’s turn.

Her eyes lit up the moment she saw the designer bag’s signature gold box. She clasped her hands together, beaming as she tore off the wrapping paper.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” she said, her voice high with excitement.

I leaned back, watching with the tiniest smile. She pulled the lid off the box, and her smile faltered.

A gray robe in a box | Source: Midjourney

A gray robe in a box | Source: Midjourney

Gone was the giddy excitement. Instead, in its place was pure confusion.

Then shock.

And finally, disappointment.

Susan pulled the robe from the box, holding it up with trembling hands.

“What… What is this? Melanie? Brendon?” she asked.

I gave her my most innocent smile.

“It’s a robe,” I said. “I thought you’d like it. It’s practical, isn’t it?”

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out. She looked between the robe and the expensive-looking box, her face turning pale.

“Is this really my gift?” she asked quietly.

I nodded, trying not to laugh.

An upset old woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset old woman | Source: Midjourney

“Sorry if it’s not what you were hoping for. But you taught me a lesson the other day, Susan. You told me that people don’t always get the gifts they want. It’s a good lesson, don’t you think?”

Susan’s jaw tightened, and I swear I saw her eye twitch. My wife shot me a look that could melt steel. But I didn’t care.

I’d made my point. And my daughter was happy.

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney

“Come on,” Melanie said, calling everyone to the table. “The Christmas feast is ready to go!”

Later that afternoon, after we were all stuffed from the meal, Susan pulled me aside.

“You bought the bag, didn’t you?” she asked, her voice low and desperate.

I raised an eyebrow.

A Christmas feast | Source: Midjourney

A Christmas feast | Source: Midjourney

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Brendon,” she hissed. “I know you bought it. Where is it?”

I crossed my arms and gave her a casual shrug.

“Sold it,” I said. “If you wouldn’t spoil my daughter, why would I spoil you?”

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

A gift bag on a table | Source: Midjourney

A gift bag on a table | Source: Midjourney

“You’re lying. You didn’t sell it,” she said.

“Susan, believe what you want,” I said. “But you made it clear, sometimes people don’t get the things they ask for. Seems only fair, don’t you think?”

Susan’s face twisted again, and for a moment, I thought she might explode. Instead, she let out a sharp breath, clearly trying to contain herself.

“I’ve been nothing but generous to you,” she whispered angrily.

A frowning old woman | Source: Midjourney

A frowning old woman | Source: Midjourney

“Really? Because taking back a promised gift from your granddaughter doesn’t feel very generous to me.”

She had no comeback for that. She just stood there, lips pressed into a thin line, her anger simmering beneath the surface.

To say Susan was furious for the rest of the day would be an understatement. My wife gave me the cold shoulder too, but frankly, I didn’t care.

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

“You hurt my mother, Brendon,” she said. “You embarrassed her and you hurt her.”

“So what?” I asked. “She hurt me by pulling that stunt, Mel. Think about it, she took away something that Eve really wanted. And she had gotten it before I landed my new job. What would have happened if I couldn’t get Evie any Christmas presents? That doll would have saved the day.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so hung up on it,” Mel said. “Eve didn’t even see the doll, it’s a different case if Mom took it straight from her hands.”

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

“You just don’t get it, do you?” I asked.

“I don’t. I really don’t,” she said.

Look, even now, things are big tense with Melanie and Susan. But it’s not a big deal for me. The important part is that my daughter had a Christmas she would never forget. And I’d shown Susan that her behavior just isn’t acceptable.

An annoyed man | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed man | Source: Midjourney

By the end of the night, Susan left without so much as a goodbye. The robe sat abandoned on the couch.

Some people will tell you that Christmas is about forgiveness. About turning the other cheek and spreading joy. But sometimes, Christmas is about making sure people learn their lessons.

Even if it means playing a little dirty.

A robe and box on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A robe and box on a couch | Source: Midjourney

My mother-in-law didn’t deserve the $600 bag, not with the way she treated my daughter. And if she thinks she can keep pulling her little power plays in my house… well, she’s got another thing coming.

Merry Christmas, Susan.

What would you have done?

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you:

My Kids’ Grandmom Came to Our Home, Packed the Christmas Presents She Gave Them & Took Them Away

When Rebecca’s mother-in-law, Darlene, goes home to take away her grandchildren’s Christmas presents, she’s left absolutely speechless. Later, she and her husband, Mark, learn that Darlene did this because she wanted to teach the couple a lesson… but karma intervenes, making sure that the old woman feels the same way the kids felt.

I never thought that this would be a story I’d tell. I mean, toxic in-laws are practically their own genre, but what my mother-in-law, Darlene, did this Christmas left me completely speechless.

Honestly, I’m still in shock.

A woman looking to the side | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking to the side | Source: Midjourney

I’m Rebecca, a mom of three chaotic kids. There’s Caleb (7), Sadie (5), and little Mason (3). Christmas is a huge deal in our house and has been like this since I was a child. We go all out.

The tree, the decorations, and of course, the gifts. Usually, Darlene shows up with her arms full of presents for the kids, playing the part of the doting grandma for one day a year.

This time, though, Darlene really outdid herself. Caleb got the new LEGO set that he had been begging for, and Sadie’s eyes lit up over a princess castle playset. Mason, the little speed demon of the family, zoomed through the living room on an adorable ride-on toy.

A castle made out of LEGO blocks | Source: Midjourney

A castle made out of LEGO blocks | Source: Midjourney

She even threw in stylish clothes for all three kids.

“They need to be photo-ready, Becca,” she told me. “And this way, they all match!”

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.

A woman ruined an 8-hour flight for fellow travelers – Following the journey, the captain took steps to address her behavior

When James is on his way home after a swimming competition in London, all he wants is to sleep on the flight. But that’s the last thing on the agenda because sitting next to him is a woman who only wants to cause trouble. Eight hours later, the captain teaches her a lesson.

I was already prepared for the flight. I knew that it was going to be a long one. I mean, eight hours from London to New York was not going to be easy, but I had my earplugs, sleeping pills, and a few snacks to keep me going.

I had just wrapped up a grueling swimming competition, and every muscle in my body was crying for some much-needed rest. I was in the middle seat, which wasn’t ideal for my height, but I was too tired to care. The woman next to me, at the window, seemed just as wiped out as I was, and I could see her eyes drooping before we took off.

We exchanged a weary smile before settling into our seats.

It’s okay, James, I thought to myself. You’ll sleep through it all.

But then there was the woman who was going to be the cause of absolute mayhem and discomfort for the next eight hours.

From the moment she sat down next to me, I sensed that she was going to be trouble. She was huffing and puffing and shifting around like she’d been assigned to a seat in the luggage compartment instead of economy.

“Oh boy,” the window-seat woman sighed.

Aisle-seat woman, let’s call her Karen, kept eyeing me up and down, her mouth twisting into a frown.

Look, I’m a tall guy at six foot two. I was used to getting uncomfortable stares in airplanes, but it wasn’t my fault.

The first sign of trouble came when the plane took off. Karen pressed the call button, not once like any rational person, but three times in a row, like she was setting off an alarm.

I almost expected an alarm to sound off in the airplane.

“Ma’am,” the flight attendant asked when we had reached cruising altitude, “how can I help you?”

“This seat is unacceptable!” Karen snapped. Her voice was loud enough to draw attention from the rows around us.

“I’m cramped, and look at these two… people! They’re practically spilling over into my space.”

She shot a look at me, then at the woman at the window, who was staring straight ahead, pretending not to notice.

“I’m sorry, but we’re fully booked today,” the flight attendant replied. “There’s nowhere else for you to move.”

“You mean that there’s not one seat available on this flight? What about business class? Nothing?” she demanded.

“No, ma’am,” the flight attendant said. “There’s nothing available.”

“Then I want them moved,” Karen declared, louder this time. “I paid for this seat just like everyone else here, and it’s not fair that I have to be squished next to them. I can’t even open a packet of chips without bumping into this guy.”

For emphasis, she elbowed me in the arm.

I glanced over at the woman in the window seat, who looked on the verge of tears. My patience was wearing thin, too, and I couldn’t handle this woman when my energy tank was empty.

“Ma’am,” I said, keeping my voice as calm as I could, “we’re all just trying to get through this flight and get to our destinations. There’s really nothing wrong with the seating arrangements here.”

“Nothing wrong?” Karen barked. “Are you kidding me? Are you blind?”

She continued her rant for what felt like hours. And it was clear she wasn’t going to drop it. I tried to ignore her, but she kept shifting in her seat, kicking my legs, and continuously elbowing my arm.

By the fourth hour, I was cranky and exhausted beyond any other moment in my life. I was done.

“Look,” I said, turning to her as the flight attendant wheeled a cart down the aisle, “we can keep this up for the rest of the flight, or we can try and make the best of a bad situation. Why don’t you watch something on the screen? There are some pretty good movies here.”

But she wasn’t having it at all.

“Why don’t you tell her to go on a diet? And why don’t you learn to book seats that have space for your gigantic legs? Why do you both insist on making my life hell?” Karen hissed.

And the entire time we had been talking, Karen was busy pressing the call button.

I felt my blood boil and watched as the woman sitting next to the window tried to make herself as small as possible.

I could see the flight attendants murmuring amongst themselves, giving Karen dirty looks. If I’m being honest, I was just hoping that one of them would slip her a sedative or something. Finally, a flight attendant came over, looking as upset as I was.

“Ma’am, if you don’t calm down, we’re going to have to ask you to stay seated and not press the call button again, not unless it’s an actual emergency.”

“Oh, this is an emergency!” she shouted. “It’s a human rights violation! My rights are being violated, and everyone is just ignoring that!”

The rest of the flight went on like this, with Karen sighing dramatically, muttering under her breath, and generally making everyone around us miserable.

I just kept my head down and tried to focus on the tiny screen in front of me, tracking our progress home.

When we finally landed, I couldn’t have been any happier if I tried. This nightmare was almost over.

But then, as soon as the wheels touched down, Karen was out of her seat, darting up the aisle as if she was about to miss her connecting flight to Mars. The seatbelt sign was still on, and everyone was sitting patiently, waiting for it to turn off.

But not Karen. No, she was ignoring all the calls from the flight attendants, not even looking back. Soon, she was standing right next to the curtain separating the business-class seats from economy.

The rest of us just watched, too exhausted and frustrated to react.

Then came the captain’s voice over the intercom:

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to New York! We have a special guest onboard today.”

There was a collective groan. What now? Were we supposed to sit there for longer?

“We ask that everyone remain seated as I make my way through the cabin to greet this very special passenger.”

Karen perked up for some reason, her shoulders straightening like she’d just been announced as Miss Universe. She looked around with a self-satisfied smile, as if expecting everyone to applaud her.

When the captain came out of the cockpit, we saw a middle-aged man with a calm demeanor and a tired smile. As he saw Karen, he paused.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said. “I need to get past you to greet our special guest.”

“Oh,” she said, looking surprised. “Of course.”

He continued to make her step back down the aisle until they were almost to our row. It was priceless because although she was complying with him, the confusion growing on her face was clear.

“Maybe you should sit down in your seat,” he said.

The rest of us were watching in stunned silence, catching on to what he was doing. I could feel a smile tugging at my lips. The woman next to me was grinning, too.

Finally, the captain stopped at our row, forcing Karen to move into the row and stand at her seat.

The captain looked up at the seat numbers and grinned to himself before speaking.

“Ah, here we are,” he said, his voice booming through the cabin. “Ladies and gentlemen, our special guest is sitting right here in seat 42C. Can we all give her a round of applause?”

For a moment, there was silence. Then someone started clapping, followed by another, and another. Before long, the whole plane erupted into laughter and applause.

The woman’s face turned bright red. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. She just stood there, awkward and humiliated, as the captain took a slight bow and returned to the front.

“That,” I said, leaning back in my seat with a satisfied grin, “was worth the eight hours of this torture.”

The rest of us finally gathered our things and filed out, leaving her to stew in her own embarrassment.

“Jeez,” the woman next to me said. “I’m so glad this is over. I don’t ever want to see that woman again. Maybe we’ll end up next to each other on another flight. Without a Karen this time.”

“Here’s hoping,” I said, and for the first time since the flight started, I genuinely laughed.

What would you have done?

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