New 1917

I Overheard My MIL and My Husband’s Plan to Hide the Food from Me as I’m ‘Too Fat’ — I Took Revenge on Them Both

Emily is horrified as she overhears her mother-in-law and husband whispering cruel plans in the kitchen. Their scheme to hide food from her because she is “too fat” deeply disturbs her. Determined to take a stand and end the toxicity, Emily devises a clever revenge they won’t see coming.

A plus-size woman looking out the window | Source: Midjourney

A plus-size woman looking out the window | Source: Midjourney

“Honey, but you don’t want to live with an elephant, do you?” Noele’s voice cut through the kitchen doorway.

I froze on the couch, my knitting needles pausing in mid-air. Did I hear that right? My heart raced as I leaned closer to listen.

A woman knitting | Source: Unsplash

A woman knitting | Source: Unsplash

“I don’t, but she’ll notice it and start asking questions,” my husband replied uneasily.

“Play dumb. And I’ll take all the food. I’m ashamed to have such a big daughter-in-law. She’s too fat,” Noele continued, her voice dripping with disdain.

A senior woman talking to a man | Source: Freepik

A senior woman talking to a man | Source: Freepik

I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. Three years ago, I gave birth to our son at 40, and my body never bounced back.

I worked long hours to support our family, and I even helped Noele financially when she needed it. How could she say such hurtful things about me?

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

I put down my knitting and stared at the wall, trying to process what I’d just heard. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them away. I didn’t want to cry, not now.

My phone buzzed, pulling me out of my thoughts. I realized I had been staring into space, my mind replaying last week’s events when Noele visited us.

A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash

A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash

I didn’t know all the missing food was her doing. She was sneakily removing food from the fridge because she didn’t want a fat woman in her son’s life.

I took a deep breath and checked the phone. It was a message from Alexander, my husband.

A man using his phone | Source: Unsplash

A man using his phone | Source: Unsplash

It said: “Hey honey, don’t wait up. My friends are insisting I stay over for a little more time :)”

Lately, he always seemed to have an excuse to stay away. I wondered if it was because of my weight, too. Did he really see me as an elephant?

A woman sitting on a sofa | Source: Unsplash

A woman sitting on a sofa | Source: Unsplash

I put my phone down and wiped my eyes. I needed to stay strong for my son. He was the light of my life, and I couldn’t let their hurtful words break me. But it wasn’t easy.

Every glance in the mirror reminded me of their conversation. Every meal I cooked felt like a betrayal.

A happy woman cooking | Source: Freepik

A happy woman cooking | Source: Freepik

I tried to focus on the positive. I had a good job, a beautiful son, and a home that I had worked hard to build. Noele’s comments couldn’t take that away from me. Yet, the pain lingered.

As I lay in bed that night, I kept replaying the conversation I had overheard. The sting of their insults was fresh, and the more I thought about it, the angrier I became.

A woman in bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman in bed | Source: Midjourney

“I can’t believe they think this way about me,” I whispered to myself, glancing at Alexander, who slept soundly beside me. “I’m the one working and buying all the food.”

I sighed and stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t fair. I had always tried to be kind and supportive. I put everyone else’s needs before my own, but what did I get in return? Cruel words and hurtful remarks.

A woman posing | Source: Freepik

A woman posing | Source: Freepik

Suddenly, it hit me. I had been too kind for too long. It was time to stand up for myself. I deserved respect and appreciation, not insults and judgment. I turned to look at Alexander again.

He seemed so peaceful, completely oblivious to the turmoil raging inside me.

A man sleeping comfortably | Source: Pexels

A man sleeping comfortably | Source: Pexels

I couldn’t keep living like this, letting their words break me down. Tomorrow, I would start making changes. I wouldn’t let Noele’s hurtful comments dictate how I felt about myself. And I wouldn’t let Alexander’s silence continue.

He needed to know how his words, or lack thereof, were affecting me. We were supposed to be partners, a team. It was time for him to step up and support me.

I woke up early, determined to put my plan into action.

Interior of a bedroom | Source: Pexels

Interior of a bedroom | Source: Pexels

After breakfast, I decided to visit the Asian market to buy some unique ingredients. As I entered the market, the variety of products overwhelmed me, but I knew exactly what I was looking for.

“Excuse me,” I said to the vendor, picking up a jar. “How much is this?”

An Asian market vendor | Source: Midjourney

An Asian market vendor | Source: Midjourney

The vendor smiled and told me the price. “These are very popular,” he said. “Great for special recipes.”

“Perfect,” I replied, adding several jars to my basket. “I’ll take these.”

A jar of Asian pickle | Source: Freepik

A jar of Asian pickle | Source: Freepik

Once I had everything I needed, I headed home. Alexander was out, and I knew Noele was supposed to come over in the evening. I had the whole day to prepare.

I took a day off from work to make sure everything was perfect. First, I emptied our fridge of all the old food items.

A stocked fridge | Source: Unsplash

A stocked fridge | Source: Unsplash

Then, I carefully filled jars and bottles with the ‘unique’ groceries I had bought, making sure they looked like the regular food jars Noele was used to seeing. I even labeled a few of them with familiar names to complete the illusion.

“This should do it,” I muttered to myself, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

A woman restocking the fridge | Source: Pexels

A woman restocking the fridge | Source: Pexels

After setting up the camera to capture Noele’s reaction, I took a step back to admire my handiwork. Everything was in place, and now all I had to do was wait.

I spent the rest of the day tidying up and making sure there was no evidence of my plan.

As the evening approached, I felt a mix of anticipation and nerves.

A smiling woman | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman | Source: Pexels

Noele arrived right on time, and I made sure to be out of the house for a few hours, giving her the perfect opportunity to raid the fridge.

When I returned home, I walked into the kitchen to find Noele pale and shaking, holding a jar filled with live insects. Her eyes were wide with shock and anger.

“What the hell is this?!” she screamed, her voice trembling.

A shocked elderly woman | Source: Freepik

A shocked elderly woman | Source: Freepik

I put on my most innocent face. “Oh, Noele, what’s wrong? Did you find something you didn’t like?”

“These… these jars! They’re filled with bugs! And some of them are still alive! Are you insane?” she shouted, her hands shaking as she held up the jar.

“Oh, those?” I replied calmly. “I thought you might enjoy some exotic snacks. I hear they’re very nutritious.”

Several jars filled with insects | Source: Midjourney

Several jars filled with insects | Source: Midjourney

“This is disgusting! How could you do this?” she yelled, her face turning red with anger.

I took a deep breath. “How could I do this?” I snapped. “How could you steal from me and insult me behind my back? You thought I wouldn’t find out? You thought I wouldn’t hear you calling me an elephant and plotting to take all the food I buy with my hard-earned money?”

A confident-looking woman | Source: Unsplash

A confident-looking woman | Source: Unsplash

Noele’s face paled even more. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words. I continued, my voice steady and firm.

“I’ve put up with your insults and disrespect for too long, Noele. I work hard to support this family, and all you do is take advantage of my kindness. Well, not anymore. This is my home, and you will respect it and me.”

At that moment, Alexander walked in, looking shocked and confused.

A man staring in shock | Source: Unsplash

A man staring in shock | Source: Unsplash

He glanced at the jar in Noele’s hand, then at me. “What’s going on here?”

“Oh, your mother is just discovering my special surprise for her,” I said calmly. “I decided to stock up on some unique groceries.”

Noele thrust the jar towards him. “She filled the fridge with insects! This is her idea of revenge!”

I wasn’t done yet.

A woman looking at her reflection in the mirror | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at her reflection in the mirror | Source: Midjourney

“Actually,” I interjected, “it’s my idea of justice. You both thought you could humiliate me and take advantage of me. Well, now you know that actions have consequences. You don’t get to insult me and steal from me without facing the fallout.”

“This is outrageous! You’re out of your mind!” Noele shouted, her voice shaking with fury.

A woman in shock | Source: Freepik

A woman in shock | Source: Freepik

“Maybe,” I replied, meeting her glare. “Or maybe I’m just tired of being disrespected in my own home. You can leave now, and don’t bother coming back unless you plan to treat me with the respect I deserve.”

Noele stormed out, still clutching the jar, and Alexander stood there, speechless.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he finally said, his voice filled with shock. It was time to teach my husband a lesson.

A surprised man | Source: Unsplash

A surprised man | Source: Unsplash

“Believe it,” I said firmly. “And if you think for one second that I’ll tolerate this behavior from either of you again, think again. This is my house, and I won’t be treated like a doormat.”

Alexander looked down, his face flushed with embarrassment. “I… I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“Sorry isn’t enough,” I replied.

A woman standing with her hands on her hips | Source: Unsplash

A woman standing with her hands on her hips | Source: Unsplash

“You need to earn back my trust and respect. Until then, don’t expect things to go back to normal. And I hope you’re looking for a job. Because you clearly don’t help me at home. Maybe if I have the time, I can focus on my health, yes?”

From that day forward, the dynamic in our house changed. Noele didn’t dare to show us her face since then, and Alexander had a lot to make up for. Sometimes, you have to take a stand and teach people that you won’t be pushed around.

Do you think I was right to take a stand for myself?

A happy plus-size woman | Source: Unsplash

A happy plus-size woman | Source: Unsplash

My MIL Left the House Every Thursday & Returned Smelling Terribly — I Went Pale When I Discovered Why

They say you never really know someone until you’ve lived with them. I thought I knew my mother-in-law, but everything changed when I decided to follow her. What I uncovered wasn’t just a secret; it was a ticking time bomb that threatened the peace of our home.

I used to think my life was predictable, with its comforting routine. I worked as a freelance graphic designer, which gave me the flexibility to be home most days while still bringing in a decent income.

A woman working on her laptop from home | Source: Midjourney

A woman working on her laptop from home | Source: Midjourney

Xander, my husband, worked long hours at his law firm, so I often had the house to myself. It was peaceful until my mother-in-law, Cordelia, moved in three months ago.

After her husband passed away, she called us one night, her voice trembling.

“Olive, dear… I don’t know how to do this on my own,” she’d sobbed over the phone. “The house is so empty, so lonely… I just need to be around my family.”

An extremely sad senior woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney

An extremely sad senior woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney

I glanced at Xander, and he nodded, looking concerned. We agreed to let Cordelia move in; it felt like the right thing to do for a grieving woman who’d just lost her partner of 40 years. But from the start, something felt off.

Cordelia had always been a little strange, but now her behavior was unpredictable. Every Thursday, she would leave early in the morning and return late in the evening, her clothes carrying a terrible stench: something rotten and damp, like decay. It lingered, clinging to the air and making me question what she was really up to.

A woman looks thoughtful and curious while sitting at home | Source: Midjourney

A woman looks thoughtful and curious while sitting at home | Source: Midjourney

“Mom, where were you today?” Xander asked her one Thursday evening as she shuffled into the kitchen, her eyes avoiding ours. I stood by the stove, pretending to stir a pot of soup, trying not to wrinkle my nose at the smell.

“Oh, just out with some old friends,” she said, waving a hand dismissively, her smile tight and unconvincing.

A senior woman forces a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman forces a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

“Every Thursday?” I asked, keeping my tone casual. “That must be some social circle.”

She glanced at me, her eyes lingering a moment too long, then shrugged. “We like to meet regularly. It’s good for the soul, you know, catching up with old friends.”

But that smell — it was like she’d been crawling through a sewer. The scent lingered long after she’d passed, a pungent blend of garbage and something wet and decayed. I could feel my curiosity gnawing at me, the way you can’t help but poke at a sore tooth.

A curious woman standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A curious woman standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

One Wednesday night, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Xander,” I whispered, nudging him awake. “Are you seriously buying that story?”

He blinked sleepily. “What story?”

“Your mom’s ‘out with old friends’ story,” I replied. “Every Thursday? And that smell… it’s not normal.”

He sighed. “Maybe she’s just grieving in her own way, Olive. People cope differently.”

I felt my jaw tighten. “And what way is that? Dumpster diving?”

He chuckled softly, half-asleep, “Let it go, love. It’s probably nothing.”

A man chuckles softly while lying in bed at night | Source: Midjourney

A man chuckles softly while lying in bed at night | Source: Midjourney

But it didn’t feel like “nothing.” It felt like a secret, and I needed to know.

The next Thursday, I called in sick and decided to follow her. I waited by the window, peeking through the blinds like some kind of amateur detective. Cordelia left the house at her usual time, dressed in her oversized coat, clutching her handbag tightly.

I kept a safe distance as she walked down the street, turning left at the end and then another left into an alley I didn’t even know existed. My heart pounded in my chest as I tailed her.

A woman is out on the street, looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman is out on the street, looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

She stopped at the corner and looked around like she was checking for someone or something.

“Where are you going, Cordelia?” I whispered, more curious than ever.

I was expecting something harmless, maybe even laughable, like an old ladies’ knitting club or maybe a bingo night in a creepy basement. But what I found inside was nothing like that.

Cordelia didn’t meet up with friends. Instead, she made her way through the shadiest part of town, slipping into an old, run-down building that looked like it could collapse at any moment.

A senior woman standing outside an old building | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman standing outside an old building | Source: Midjourney

I hesitated outside, the walls covered in graffiti and the windows boarded up, but I took a deep breath and followed her inside. The air was thick with smoke, the kind that sticks to your skin, and the room was filled with the low hum of murmurs and distant laughter.

That’s when I saw it: a hidden, illegal casino tucked away in the back, reeking of stale smoke and the sour smell of desperation. The dimly lit room was filled with flashing lights and the sounds of poker chips clinking filled the air.

Stacks of poker chips on a table | Source: Pexels

Stacks of poker chips on a table | Source: Pexels

And there, in the middle of it all, was my mother-in-law. Not just “hanging out with friends,” but gambling away every penny she could get her hands on, her eyes fixed on the cards in front of her, her hands trembling with each bet she placed.

I stayed in the shadows, barely breathing, watching her play hand after hand. She looked different, haggard, almost like she was wearing the weight of every decision she’d ever made. Her lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying over the noise.

A grayscale photo of a senior woman sitting in a casino with gambling chips lying on her table | Source: Midjourney

A grayscale photo of a senior woman sitting in a casino with gambling chips lying on her table | Source: Midjourney

I saw her lose money, win a little, then lose it all again. She seemed almost possessed, her fingers shaking as she reached for the chips, her face lined with a mixture of desperation and obsession.

I wanted to pull her out of there, to grab her by the arm and drag her home, but I couldn’t move. I felt frozen, glued to the spot. I needed to see how far she would go. She didn’t leave until late in the evening, and when she finally did, she looked exhausted.

A senior woman looks exhausted while sitting in a casino | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman looks exhausted while sitting in a casino | Source: Midjourney

Her eyes were glazed over, and her shoulders slumped like she was carrying the weight of her losses on her back.

I waited until she turned the corner before I followed, keeping my distance. As we walked back, I felt a wave of anger and pity twisting in my stomach. What had she gotten herself into? And why hadn’t she told us?

The next morning, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. At breakfast, I set my coffee cup down a little too hard. “Cordelia, where were you yesterday?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

A woman looks serious while standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman looks serious while standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

She barely looked up from her cereal. “With friends, like I told you.”

“Stop lying, Cordelia,” I snapped. “I followed you. I know where you were.”

Her spoon clattered against the bowl, and she went pale. “You… you followed me?”

Xander looked between us, confused. “What’s going on?”

“She wasn’t with friends, Xander,” I said, my gaze fixed on her. “She was at an illegal casino, gambling. And from the looks of it, she’s been doing it for a while.”

A senior woman gambling in a casino | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman gambling in a casino | Source: Midjourney

Cordelia’s face crumpled, and she broke down. “I… I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’ve lost everything… everything. I had nowhere else to go. That’s why I begged you to let me stay. I was ashamed, and I didn’t know how to tell you…”

Xander’s face turned a deep shade of red. “You mean to tell me you’ve been lying to us this whole time? Using us?”

“I didn’t mean to!” she cried. “I didn’t know how to stop. I thought maybe… maybe I could win it all back.”

A grayscale photo of a senior woman looking sad and desperate | Source: Midjourney

A grayscale photo of a senior woman looking sad and desperate | Source: Midjourney

I felt a pang of guilt, but it was overshadowed by the anger boiling inside me. “You’ve been draining us, Cordelia. We took you in because we cared, not so you could feed your addiction.”

She looked at me, her face streaked with tears. “I know, I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll change. Just… don’t throw me out. Please.”

That night, Xander and I lay in bed, unable to sleep. “We have to do something,” I whispered. “We can’t just let her keep doing this.”

Xander sighed deeply. “What do you suggest, Olive? Tough love?”

A man looking at his wife while sitting in bed at night | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at his wife while sitting in bed at night | Source: Midjourney

I nodded. “Exactly. If she’s not going to stop on her own, then we’ll have to make her stop.”

The following Thursday, I handed her a large sum of cash, more than she had seen in one place since she’d moved in with us. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I saw that familiar spark of greed.

“Go ahead,” I said, forcing a smile. “Take this and do whatever you want with it.”

A woman forcing a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman forcing a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

She hesitated for just a second before snatching the money and stuffing it into her purse.

“Thank you, Olive,” she murmured, her voice shaking, but she didn’t meet my eyes. And then she was gone, practically running out the door.

Xander stood behind me, his arms crossed. “Are you sure about this?”

“Trust me,” I replied. “She won’t get far.”

Earlier that day, I had made a few calls, and by the time Cordelia reached the casino, the place was swarming with undercover cops. The raid went down right as she was about to hand over the cash.

Two cops standing in a casino | Source: Midjourney

Two cops standing in a casino | Source: Midjourney

I wasn’t there to see it, but I could imagine the look on her face: shock, maybe a little betrayal, as they caught her red-handed, along with the owners of the illegal casino.

That evening, the phone rang. It was the police. “Mrs. Fields?” the officer said. “We have your mother-in-law in custody.”

“We know,” I replied calmly. “And we’re not bailing her out. You should know she’s been struggling with a gambling addiction. We want her to get help.”

A woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney

The officer seemed taken aback but eventually agreed to include our statement in the report. The judge showed no mercy; Cordelia was sentenced to mandatory rehabilitation and a hefty fine.

Months later, when she was released from rehab, Cordelia looked different. She seemed smaller, more fragile. She stood in our doorway, wringing her hands.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I know I hurt you both, and I’m ready to make it right. I want to rebuild my life.”

A senior woman looks sad and ashamed | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman looks sad and ashamed | Source: Midjourney

Xander and I exchanged a look. He stepped forward, his expression soft but firm.

“We’re willing to give you another chance, Mom,” he said, “but on our terms. We’ve found you a modest apartment nearby. We’ll cover the rent, but only if you keep your word and attend your support group meetings.”

Cordelia nodded eagerly, tears in her eyes. “I will. I swear. Thank you… thank you for giving me a chance.”

As we watched her walk away to her new home, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope mixed with the fear of another betrayal.

A woman looks hopeful and a bit fearful while standing outside her house and looking at something | Source: Midjourney

A woman looks hopeful and a bit fearful while standing outside her house and looking at something | Source: Midjourney

We’d done all we could, and the rest was up to her. The ball was in her court, and only time would tell if she could truly change.

But when Natasha starts to see a change in Marlene’s behavior, she begins to get worried about the old woman. Eventually, when the truth is revealed, Natasha doesn’t know what to do.

Two women cooking together | Source: Pexels

Two women cooking together | Source: Pexels

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.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*