My Husband Canceled Our Vacation to Take His Mom Instead – So I Made Sure He Never Forgot This Trip

Lisa worked tirelessly to afford a dream trip to Maui, only for her husband, Wade, to give her ticket to his mommy instead. Stunned but seething, Lisa starts planning the ultimate payback — one that will ensure his vacation is unforgettable for all the wrong reasons.

I stared at the Maui resort website, my cursor hovering over the “Book Now” button like it was the detonator to a happiness bomb.

A woman staring thoughtfully at her laptop screen | Source: Midjourney

A woman staring thoughtfully at her laptop screen | Source: Midjourney

The photos showed pristine beaches, infinity pools, and those little umbrellas in coconut drinks that screamed “vacation.”

After a year of endless work and juggling the kids’ schedules with the precision of a circus performer, I needed this break like a caffeine addict needs their morning coffee.

I let out a sigh of relief as I clicked the button. The confirmation page popped up with a cheerful ding, and I let loose with a little victorious air punch. I was finally getting my dream vacation!

A happy woman looking at a laptop screen | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman looking at a laptop screen | Source: Midjourney

Wade and I had agreed to split the cost fifty-fifty. I’d convinced him we needed a real vacation in January and had been working hard to make it happen all year.

I’d planned everything down to the minute: beachfront resort, sunset sail, snorkeling with sea turtles. I even scheduled in “spontaneous” relaxation time, because that’s the kind of control freak I’d become.

The kids were thrilled about staying with my sister, Jane, for the week we’d be away.

Happy siblings on a sofa | Source: Midjourney

Happy siblings on a sofa | Source: Midjourney

“Mom,” my 13-year-old Emma had said, “Aunt Jane said she’ll give us ice cream for breakfast!”

I pretended to be scandalized, but honestly, Jane could feed them moon rocks for all I cared. This vacation was my light at the end of a very long, very dark, very exhausting tunnel.

One week before our flight, all my dreams of relaxing on the beach came crashing down around me.

A woman with a serious expression | Source: Midjourney

A woman with a serious expression | Source: Midjourney

Wade’s mom was coming for dinner, so I was in the kitchen dishing up her special lasagna. She’d given me the recipe a year ago with great fanfare, like she was conveying a great honor. It was just regular lasagna with extra garlic and oregano.

I heard the front door open, and my mother-in-law’s distinctive perfume arrived about three seconds before she did.

“Something smells wonderful!” Carol’s voice carried through the house like a foghorn of impending doom.

A woman striding down a home corridor | Source: Midjourney

A woman striding down a home corridor | Source: Midjourney

She swept into the kitchen, designer purse swinging from her arm like a weapon. She scanned the kitchen, frowned, and then leaned out into the hall.

“Wade, honey, your wife is plating dinner already. Why aren’t you here to welcome me?”

I bit my tongue so hard that I probably needed stitches.

“Sorry, Mom, I was packing a few things. We’ve got some exciting news,” Wade announced as he bounded into the room like an overeager golden retriever. “We booked a trip to Maui!”

Carol’s face lit up like a Christmas tree on steroids.

A mature woman grinning in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A mature woman grinning in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, sweetie! You’re so wonderful for planning such a lovely vacation.” She turned to me with a dismissive glance that could have frozen Hawaii itself. “You’re lucky to have my Wade. He’s always been such a caring soul.”

“Actually,” I started to say, “I was the one who—”

“You know,” Carol interrupted, sinking into a kitchen chair with a dramatic sigh worthy of a soap opera, “I’ve been so exhausted lately. Retirement isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. All those bridge club meetings, and my garden needs so much attention…”

A mature woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

A mature woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

I turned away so Carol wouldn’t see me roll my eyes. She’d never once offered to watch the kids during their various illnesses, school events, or even that time I had the flu and was hallucinating that the kitchen sponge was giving me financial advice.

But somehow her life was always so hard… yeah, right. Carol was just one of those people who thought having life problems was a competitive sport.

I suppressed a sigh as we all sat down to eat.

A plate of lasagna on a table | Source: Pexels

A plate of lasagna on a table | Source: Pexels

Carol droned on about how exhausted she was and how much she wished she could also enjoy a “fancy getaway.”

I just nodded occasionally and tried not to groan, but Wade was drinking it all up.

Toward the end of dinner, Wade cleared his throat and turned to me.

“Hey, honey, I was thinking…”

He had that look again, the one that meant I should probably start looking up countries with no extradition treaties.

“Why don’t you let Mom take your ticket?”

A man speaking to someone during dinner | Source: Midjourney

A man speaking to someone during dinner | Source: Midjourney

I nearly choked on my garlic bread.

“Wade,” I said carefully, my voice shaking with the restraint of a saint, “I worked my butt off all year to save for this trip. I’m exhausted. I need this break more than I need oxygen right now.”

He shrugged, like I was complaining about the weather instead of the grand theft of my sanity vacation.

“A lot of women work these days,” he said. “It’s your choice. But you heard my mom… she could really use a break. Don’t make this a big deal.”

A man speaking during dinner at home | Source: Midjourney

A man speaking during dinner at home | Source: Midjourney

“I worked my whole life for my son and never complained,” Carol chimed in, dabbing at nonexistent tears with her perfectly manicured fingers.

I looked at Wade, really looked at him, and something inside me snapped like a rubber band that had been stretched way too far. Six years of marriage crystallized into perfect clarity.

This wasn’t about the vacation. This was about every birthday dinner he’d insisted we spend with his mother, every decision that somehow always ended with Carol getting her way, and how she still called Wade her “precious baby boy” even though he was in his 30s.

Close up of a woman staring ahead with wide eyes | Source: Midjourney

Close up of a woman staring ahead with wide eyes | Source: Midjourney

I forced my lips into a smile. “Sure, Wade. Take your mom. I’ll figure something else out.”

They both beamed, thinking they’d won. But I was already planning my revenge, and it was going to be more satisfying than all the spa treatments in Hawaii combined.

Over the next few days, I became very busy with my laptop, cackling like a witch over her cauldron.

The five-star resort? Downgraded to a budget hotel miles from the beach, with one queen bed and a mysterious stain on the carpet that the reviews said might be sentient.

A woman cackling while using her laptop | Source: Midjourney

A woman cackling while using her laptop | Source: Midjourney

The sunset sail and snorkeling? Canceled faster than a bad Netflix series. Instead, I booked them fascinating activities like “The History of Pineapple Farming: A Four-Hour Lecture Series” and “Traditional Hat Weaving: A Five-Hour Workshop with Bonus Meditation.”

Their first-class flights became economy middle seats, separated by three rows, right next to the bathrooms.

But that wasn’t all I had planned.

A woman smirking while using her laptop | Source: Midjourney

A woman smirking while using her laptop | Source: Midjourney

I also found a lawyer and filed for divorce.

By the time Wade left for the airport, I was ready to move forward with the next stage. I packed his things into suitcases and lined them up in the hallway like soldiers of liberation. The note I left took only minutes to write, but I’d been composing it in my head for days.

Dear Wade,

In these suitcases, you’ll find all your belongings — well, at least the ones worth keeping. I need a break, not just from our “marriage,” but from your mom’s constant meddling and your eternal cluelessness.

Feel free to unpack at her place. I’m sure she’ll love having her little boy back full-time.

Best wishes,

Your ex-wife

Suitcases in an entrance hall | Source: Pexels

Suitcases in an entrance hall | Source: Pexels

Then I treated myself to some online shopping: one ticket for a luxury Mediterranean cruise. The refunds from all those canceled Maui activities more than covered it.

I was folding clothes into my suitcase, practicing my “lounging on deck” pose, when my phone exploded with Wade’s ringtone.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” His voice cracked with fury. “It’s so selfish! This hotel is a dump, and the flight was a nightmare!”

A smug woman on a phone call | Source: Midjourney

A smug woman on a phone call | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, I thought you’d love it! A nice quiet room, some quality mother-son bonding over hat weaving… But wait until you see the surprise I arranged for when you get back.”

“What surprise? Lisa? LISA!”

I hung up, smiling like the cat who not only got the cream but also started a successful dairy company. The divorce papers were scheduled for delivery to Carol’s house the day they returned.

By then, I’d be somewhere off the Italian coast, eating authentic pasta and sipping champagne.

A cruise ship close to land | Source: Pexels

A cruise ship close to land | Source: Pexels

A few months have passed since all of this happened. The divorce was finalized smoothly and these days, I’m happily single and planning my next adventure to Disney World with the kids.

Wade is still living with his mommy, and from the sounds of things, has no plans to move out anytime soon. The kids visit him every second weekend, and I make sure to smile and wave whenever I see Carol.

Once, I even got to ask if she enjoyed her hat-weaving workshop.

A woman standing beside her car waving her hand | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing beside her car waving her hand | Source: Midjourney

Sometimes the best vacations are the ones you take by yourself — especially when they lead you exactly where you need to be.

And sometimes, the sweetest revenge isn’t served cold: it’s a pineapple farming lecture with a side of hat weaving.

My Mother-in-Law Filled My Home with Cockroaches to Tarnish My Reputation as a Housekeeper – My Retaliation Was Severe

Elara thought marriage would be her happily ever after, until cockroaches invaded her home and her mother-in-law made her life a living nightmare. But when a dark secret blurred the line between victim and villain, Elara realized that revenge was the only way out.

I’m Elara, and I’ve been married to my husband, Jacob, for about a year now. Life, for the most part, has been good, really good, actually. We settled into married life with ease, enjoying the simple pleasures of being together.

Jacob is everything I could have asked for in a husband. He is kind, supportive, and always there when I need him. But, as with most things in life, there’s a catch.

That catch is my mother-in-law, Agnes.

From the very beginning, it was clear as day that she never liked me. Whether it was the way she looked at me or the not-so-subtle digs she made, her attitude was unmistakable. I’m not sure what I did to deserve her disdain, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that she saw me as an intruder in her son’s life.

Still, she’s Jacob’s mother, and for that reason alone, I’ve tried my best to live with it. To smile through her snide remarks and keep the peace, for Jacob’s sake. But no amount of forced smiles could prepare me for what came next.

Just when I thought I could handle her passive-aggressive digs, things took a turn for the worse.

For the past month, my house has felt like something out of a nightmare. No, scratch that. MY LIFE has felt like something out of a nightmare.

It started with a cockroach here and there. One scuttling across the kitchen counter. Another creeping along the bathroom floor.

But soon, they were everywhere. And I mean EVERYWHERE! The kitchen, the bathroom, the living room, hell, even our bedroom wasn’t safe. I’d wake up in the middle of the night feeling a tickle on my arm, only to flick on the light and see a roach making itself at home on my bed.

We called pest control multiple times. We bought traps, sprays, you name it. But no matter what we did, the roaches kept coming back, like they had some vendetta against me. And to top it all off, my mother-in-law just couldn’t resist rubbing it in.

“Honestly, Elara,” she’d say with that sickly sweet tone of hers, “you really should take better care of the house. Jacob deserves a clean home. How can you let it get this bad?”

It didn’t stop there. One afternoon, as she sipped tea in our living room, a roach had the nerve to crawl up the wall. Agnes’s eyes followed it with a look of exaggerated horror.

“My goodness, Elara,” she gasped, clutching her chest as if she were witnessing a crime. “I can’t imagine how embarrassed you must be, living in these conditions. I never had this problem when Jacob was growing up.”

Then there was the time she “helpfully” brought over a stack of cleaning supplies, dumping them on my kitchen counter with a too-bright smile. “I thought you could use these, dear,” she said, her voice oozing with false concern. “Maybe they’ll help you get a handle on things. I’d hate for people to think you can’t keep a clean house.”

Each comment was a jab, a twist of the knife, making me feel smaller and more inadequate every time. It was as if she reveled in my struggle, her words like salt in an already festering wound.

Every time she opened her mouth, it took everything in me not to scream. I’d nod, smile, and tell her I was doing my best, but inside, I was seething. This isn’t my fault, you old witch! I wanted to shout. But of course, I couldn’t do that. Not to Jacob’s mother.

But then, the universe threw me a bone. Or rather, Agnes made a mistake. She’d come over to “check on us” again, dropping her little barbs like confetti. As she left, she accidentally left her handbag on the couch. When I went to pick it up and move it, a receipt fluttered out. I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but something caught my eye.

It was from a pet store. But not just any pet store—one that specialized in reptiles. And the item purchased? LIVE COCKROACHES!

My blood ran cold. For a moment, I just stood there, staring at that stupid piece of paper in my hand. And then, slowly, the realization hit me. Agnes was behind the infestation. She’d been sabotaging me, setting me up to look like the world’s worst housekeeper.

The anger that flared up inside me was blinding. I could feel it burning in my chest, my hands trembling with the force of it. But along with the anger came something else—something darker.

I wasn’t just going to confront her. No, that would be letting her off too easily. I was going to get revenge.

I stormed out of the house, receipt still clenched in my hand, and got into my car. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew I needed to strike back. Hard. As I drove, my thoughts raced, and then it hit me. I made a quick detour to that same pet store. If she wanted to play dirty, then I’d go nuclear.

Inside, I found exactly what I was looking for—a potent animal attractant. The kind hunters use to lure wild animals from miles away. The plan formed in my head like a beautiful, terrible flower, blooming with each passing second.

When I finally pulled up to Agnes’s house, night had fallen. She lived on the outskirts of town, right next to the woods, which made this perfect. I crept around her yard, spreading the attractant everywhere. The bushes, the flower beds, even the base of the house itself. I didn’t stop there.

I slipped inside — she always left the back door unlocked, trusting as ever — and sprinkled some inside too. The whole time, my heart raced with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

By the time I finished, I was practically shaking with anticipation. I couldn’t wait to see what would happen. But for now, I went home, crawled into bed, and let sleep take me. And oh, how sweet that sleep was.

I dreamed of revenge, of Agnes’s horrified face, of the chaos I had unleashed, and I drifted deeper into that blissful darkness, savoring every second.

Then, just as I was reliving the final moments of my delicious payback, the shrill ring of the phone yanked me from my dream. I groggily reached for it, my heart pounding. It was Jacob, and from the frantic tone of his voice, I knew something big had happened.

“Elara, you won’t believe this,” he said, half laughing, half in shock. “Mom’s house was… attacked last night!”

I sat up in bed, trying to sound groggy. “Attacked? By who?”

“Not who—what. Animals. The whole yard was swarmed! Deer, moose, foxes, even birds! They trashed everything! They tore up the garden and broke the fences. And the smell… God, the whole place reeks. It’s like the animals turned the yard into their personal toilet.”

It took everything in me to keep from bursting out laughing. “That’s awful! What’s she going to do?”

“She’s coming to stay with us until it’s cleaned up. She doesn’t have a choice.”

I felt my stomach drop. Great, I didn’t think this through. But I couldn’t let him hear the panic in my voice. “Oh, okay. We’ll make it work.”

When Agnes arrived later that day, the look on her face was priceless. She was humiliated, furious, and worst of all, powerless. She barely acknowledged me as she walked inside, nose wrinkling at the sight of the cockroaches that still plagued our house.

“Oh, don’t mind them,” I said sweetly. “They just won’t go away, no matter what we do.”

I waited until later that night, after Jacob and I were alone, to show him the receipt. He stared at it, his face hardening as the truth sank in.

“She did WHAT?” he exclaimed, disbelief giving way to anger.

“Apparently, she’s been planting roaches in the house this whole time. I found this after she left yesterday,” I said, handing him the damning piece of paper.

Jacob stormed into the guest room, confronting Agnes right then and there. She tried to deny it, but the receipt was undeniable. She stammered out an apology, her face going red with shame.

“I didn’t think it would go this far,” she mumbled, eyes glued to the floor.

“Well, it did,” Jacob snapped. “And you’re paying for the pest control and all the damage you caused. Until it’s done, you’ll have to live among the cockroaches YOU brought into our lives.”

As I listened to their exchange, a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Sure, I hadn’t planned on Agnes moving in, but at least now she was getting what she deserved.

Lying in bed that night, I felt a deep, dark satisfaction settle over me. Revenge might not always be sweet, but sometimes, it’s just what you need to get by. And as for Agnes? Well, let’s just say she’ll be sleeping with the roaches tonight.

And for many nights to come.

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