Our Stepdad Gifted My Mom a Pack of Toilet Paper for Her Birthday — Our Revenge on Him Was Harsh

My stepdad always made a big deal about being the “man of the house,” but when his “special gift” for my mom’s birthday turned out to be a pack of toilet paper, I decided it was time for payback. And let’s just say someone else ended up desperately needing that present.

My stepfather, Jeff, loved reminding us he was the breadwinner of the house throughout our entire childhood. Anytime we sat down to dinner, he’d start with his usual spiel.

A man lauhing at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney

A man lauhing at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney

“You’re lucky I keep this roof over your heads,” he’d say and chortle. He also said it all the time while leaning back on his worn-out recliner. It was his favorite thing in the world.

My mom, Jane, always nodded along. She was the kind of woman who avoided conflict at any cost. She wasn’t raised in the 1950s, but her upbringing had been different from ours. Staying quiet had become almost an art form for her.

As her kids, my siblings (Chloe, Lily, and Anthony) and I could see that she desperately wanted to speak up but didn’t. Meanwhile, we surely didn’t consider him “the king of the castle” or a “real man,” which were other phrases Jeff used to describe himself.

A woman at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney

A woman at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney

Yes, he paid all the bills while we were growing up, and we were thankful. But that wasn’t an excuse to treat our mother like a servant and think he was better than the rest of us.

We had tried for years to get Mom to leave him to no avail.

Eventually, we all moved out of their house as we reached adulthood, but my sisters and I continued to visit Mom often. Anthony lived on the other side of the country, but he checked in every other day.

A man on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A man on the phone | Source: Midjourney

Still, we worried about her.

I felt that our visits weren’t enough to truly know what was going on in that house. I often sat alone in my apartment and wondered if Mom would ever leave this man and if there was something he could do to finally make her snap out of her proverbial shackles.

Yes, this is where it gets good.

This year, Jeff simply went too far. For days leading up to Mom’s birthday, he wouldn’t stop bragging about the “special gift” he’d picked out for her.

A man on a reclining chair | Source: Midjourney

A man on a reclining chair | Source: Midjourney

“This one’s going to knock her socks off,” he said over dinner at their house, grinning like a buffoon.

I wanted to believe him. Maybe he had finally decided to treat her with the respect she deserved. But deep down, I knew better. Jeff was Jeff, and people like him never changed.

My mom’s birthday arrived, and of course, my sisters and I were there, sitting in the living room. Jeff had a twinkle in his eyes, and I knew Mom had hope in hers.

Three sisters with presents in their hands | Source: Midjourney

Three sisters with presents in their hands | Source: Midjourney

After she opened our presents, my stepdad handed her a huge, beautifully wrapped package. He was smiling, and my mom’s face lit up as she carefully untied the ribbon.

“Oh, Jeff, you didn’t have to,” she said softly.

“Yes, I did. Go on. Open it,” he urged, leaning forward in his chair.

She unwrapped the box slowly, savoring the moment… until she saw what was inside— toilet paper. 12-pack. Four-ply. Jumbo rolls.

A woman smiling with a big present | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling with a big present | Source: Midjourney

Mom blinked in confusion.

“It’s so soft. Just like you!” Jeff declared, slapping his knee and cackling. “And look, four-ply, to represent your four kids. Perfect, right?”

Mom let out a nervous laugh, but I could see her eyes glistening. My sisters and I exchanged a look. This wasn’t just a bad joke; it was cruel.

We’d had enough. We had to do something.

A woman looking angry | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking angry | Source: Midjourney

***

Two days later, our plan began to take shape. Jeff loved two things: being the “big man” and free food. So, we invited him to a “family dinner” at the Chinese restaurant he always raved about.

Chloe, my youngest sibling, was the one who planted the idea.

“We’ll do it in his favorite place. He won’t suspect a thing,” she said, smirking.

Lily, being the eldest and most practical, raised an eyebrow. “And what happens after?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Chloe replied. “We’ll handle it.”

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

We set the date and made sure to hype it up, so Jeff wouldn’t miss it.

“Dinner’s on us this time,” Chloe told him sweetly

Jeff puffed out his chest. “Well, it’s about time someone else paid for once. I’m glad that being out of the house has finally opened your eyes to how great you fared because of me!”

We rolled our eyes internally.

The restaurant was bustling that night. Shiny red lanterns hung from the ceiling, giving the space a nice reddish glow.

Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

The food from other tables smelled delicious, and I could tell Jeff was hungry as we sat down at our table.

“When are your mom and Lily getting here?” he asked, wrinkling his nose toward the front door.

“Don’t worry. They’ll be here soon. How about we order food anyway?” I suggested, nodding towards Chloe.

She agreed and started rattling off things she wanted, things we specifically planned to order: Szechuan beef, Kung Pao chicken, and the spiciest mapo tofu on the menu.

Chinese menu | Source: Midjourney

Chinese menu | Source: Midjourney

Jeff ordered his usual, but I knew what we had in mind would still work.

Each dish came out looking like a masterpiece of fiery reds and deep browns, garnished with fresh herbs and enough chili to make a grown man cry.

Chloe’s eyes twinkled as the waiter finished arranging everything on the table.

“Jeff, you can handle spicy, right?” she asked, pretending to be concerned.

A woman smiling at Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling at Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Jeff stayed silent for a second, stumped, then nodded quickly. “I didn’t realize you gals wanted to share everything. Of course, I can eat anything. Nothing is ever too spicy for a real man.”

I chimed in with, “Be careful with these, though. They’re pretty hot.”

I just knew my words would make him mad.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Amelia,” Jeff scoffed and took his chopsticks to skewer a piece of beef straight into his mouth.

A man looking serious at a Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A man looking serious at a Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney

At first, he gave out an exaggerated moan, to “prove his manliness,” but soon, his face turned redder than the lanterns above us. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he chewed and breathed through his nose.

“Everything alright?” Chloe asked, again faking worry.

“Yes, yes,” he lied through his full mouth. “This is good stuff.”

I was sure Jeff wouldn’t grab more after gulping down an entire glass of Coke, but Chloe and I began eating in earnest.

“Oh, it’s not so spicy after all,” Chloe commented, smiling sugary-sweet. She was baiting him.

A woman smiling with chopsticks in her hand | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling with chopsticks in her hand | Source: Midjourney

I nodded, grabbing more.

Not to be outdone, Jeff began to eat more. He was breathing roughly now, but when we asked if he was alright, he simply said, “This really clears the sinuses, gals.”

Still, his fingers went up and snapped at the waiter to bring him more Coke.

Chloe leaned over and whispered, “He’s going to feel that later.”

“Oh, definitely,” I whispered back, grinning conspiratorially.

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

***

While Jeff was busy showing off his “macho” tolerance for heat, Mom and Lily were busy back at the house with a rented U-Haul and movers.

They worked quickly to load up Mom’s belongings, such as clothes, keepsakes, her favorite chair, and even the toaster. I told them to take the things Mom had given Jeff over the years by saving up when she could: the recliner and his specialty tools.

A truck and workers loading boxes | Source: Midjourney

A truck and workers loading boxes | Source: Midjourney

But the pièce de résistance was Chloe telling them to remove every single roll of toilet paper in the house.

***

Jeff was still red when we left the restaurant, and he was grumbling about Mom and Lily being no-shows. So I just suggested going to the house to see if anything had happened.

When we arrived, everything was ready. The truck had already left. Meanwhile, Mom and Lily were hiding in the garage.

Jeff walked in with Chloe and me right behind him. He barely made it two steps into the living room before he froze.

A dimly lit living room | Source: Midjourney

A dimly lit living room | Source: Midjourney

“Where’s my recliner?” he barked, scanning the empty spot.

“Gone,” Chloe piped in casually, tilting her head. “Mom took what’s hers.”

Jeff turned to us and his face reddened again, but before he could say another word, his stomach gurgled loudly. He doubled over slightly, clutching his gut.

“Oh, man, I think that spicy food—” He paused, looking around frantically.

A man holding his stomach | Source: Midjourney

A man holding his stomach | Source: Midjourney

“Is something wrong, Jeff? I hope it wasn’t the food,” I said, blinking innocently.

He stared daggers at me before bolting down the hall. Moments later, we heard the bathroom door slam.

Lily and Mom appeared out of their hiding spot right in time to hear the sound of Jeff panicking. “What the hell? Where’s all the toilet paper?!” he yelled.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“We took that along with the recliner!” I shouted, laughter bubbling up. “After all, it also belonged to Mom!”

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

“WHAT?” he shouted back.

It seemed like he wasn’t getting it, so Mom stepped closer to the bathroom door. “I’M LEAVING YOU, JEFF! And I took what was mine,” she exclaimed firmly. “Including my dignity.”

Jeff groaned loudly from behind the bathroom door. “You can’t just leave me like this!” he yelled.

“WATCH ME!” Mom replied, adding, “Not that you can right now, but enjoy staying in the bathroom all night!”

A woman next to a closed door | Source: Midjourney

A woman next to a closed door | Source: Midjourney

My sisters and I stared at each other, giggling.

Jeff groaned, and there were other unsavory sounds, which I took as our cue to leave. “Let’s go, Mom,” I said.

She nodded and walked out, thanking us.

***

The next day, Jeff tried to call her. Over and over again, he left voicemails full of fake apologies and pitiful excuses.

“Jane, come on, be reasonable! You can’t just run off like this!” he begged.

A man using a phone | Source: Midjourney

A man using a phone | Source: Midjourney

But Mom didn’t answer or call back.

Instead, Chloe had a better idea.

On his birthday, we sent Jeff a little gift. A jumbo pack of toilet paper, wrapped just as carefully as the one he’d given Mom.

Attached was a handwritten note that read: “For a real man.”

Rolls of toilet paper on a porch | Source: Midjourney

Rolls of toilet paper on a porch | Source: Midjourney

Mom moved in with Lily, a temporary arrangement where we all helped while she found a job. Anthony was delighted to learn about what we had done and wished he was there, too.

From what I hear, Jeff’s still complaining to anyone who’ll listen. But Mom is finally living her life without his control, and we couldn’t be prouder.

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

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.

My Husband Insisted on Homeschooling Our Daughter — I Gasped When I Found Out Why

When Mia’s husband, Ben, suddenly starts talking about homeschooling their six-year-old daughter, Lily, she’s surprised. Months earlier, they had been talking about sending the little girl to private school. So, what changed? Mia finds out when she overhears a conversation between Ben and Lily…

This all started a few months ago at a dinner party. My husband, Ben, and I were sitting with a few friends when, out of the blue, he brought up the idea of homeschooling our daughter, Lily.

An aerial view of people at a dinner party | Source: Midjourney

An aerial view of people at a dinner party | Source: Midjourney

“It’s the system, you know? It’s too rigid, too focused on tests,” Ben said, leaning forward in his seat like he had discovered the secret to the universe.

“Kids need to be free to explore their creativity. I don’t want Lily’s imagination boxed in. She needs to feel things between her fingers and experience life,” he continued.

Ben reached forward to help himself to the bowl of mashed potatoes.

A casserole of mashed potatoes | Source: Midjourney

A casserole of mashed potatoes | Source: Midjourney

Everyone at the table nodded, murmuring in agreement.

“Honestly, that’s so true,” our friend Sarah chimed in as she sipped her wine. “Schools just kill creativity. I wish I had done something different with my kids. Last year, Jasmine wanted to show off her creativity through her uniform, but they didn’t accept it at school. She got a suspension warning.”

I remember glancing at Ben, completely surprised at how passionately he was speaking. He had never once mentioned anything about homeschooling before. In fact, he had been talking about us getting our six-year-old into private school.

A little girl in her school uniform | Source: Midjourney

A little girl in her school uniform | Source: Midjourney

But here he was, talking about homeschooling like he’d been thinking about it for years.

“We could teach her ourselves, Mia,” Ben continued, glancing over at me with a smile. “Think about it, love. No strict schedules, no standardized tests. She could learn at her own pace.”

I nodded, trying to process everything.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah, I mean, it does sound good,” I agreed. “But we need to explore all options about it first.”

I was hesitant. But I was also unsure of why I felt a slight unease creep up on me. Although when Ben spoke so passionately, it was hard not to get swept up in the dream of it all.

After that night, Ben kept bringing it up. At home, over dinner, in passing conversations, he’d make little comments all the time.

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

“Lily would be so much happier if she wasn’t stuck in a classroom all day.”

“We could help her learn things that matter, Mia, not just what’s on some test.”

Eventually, I started to believe that he might be right.

Before I knew it, we had decided to pull Lily out of her school and start with the new routine of homeschooling. Ben took charge of everything.

A little girl using a computer | Source: Midjourney

A little girl using a computer | Source: Midjourney

“Like the gifts we talked about? You’ll deliver them, right?”

He had always been more involved with her school meetings, so I trusted him completely. And look, at first, everything seemed to be working. Ben would sit with Lily during “school hours,” and he’d proudly show me the projects they’d worked on when I got home from work.

“I’m glad she’s happy,” I told Ben one evening when I was loading the dishwasher.

A woman loading a dishwasher | Source: Midjourney

A woman loading a dishwasher | Source: Midjourney

“She’s more than happy, Mia,” he said with a smile. “She’s thriving. Look at this! She made a solar system model all on her own.”

But then one day, I came home early from work, eager to show Lily the new set of watercolor paint I had gotten for her. I walked in quietly, not wanting to disturb whatever lesson she and Ben were doing.

And that’s when I heard Lily crying.

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

“But Dad, I miss my friends!” Lily sobbed. “They probably think I don’t like them anymore. I’m sure they think we’re fighting! They’ll be so mad at me for not going to school…”

I crept closer to the dining room, which had become the classroom. And I heard Ben’s voice, low and soothing.

“Lily-girl,” he said. “I told you, we can send them little gifts, okay? They won’t be mad at you.”

An upset little man | Source: Midjourney

An upset little man | Source: Midjourney

Lily sniffled, but her tone lifted a little.

“Like the gifts we talked about? You’ll deliver them, right?” she said.

Deliver gifts? What on earth was my child talking about?

“Yes, darling,” he said.

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

“Like when you let me come with you when Mommy had to work? You’re going to deliver my friends’ gifts just like when you bring packages to people, right?”

I froze. I tried to piece the information together before storming in and demanding answers.

Ben wasn’t homeschooling Lily out of some grand educational philosophy that he had been talking about endlessly.

An upset little girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset little girl | Source: Midjourney

Instead, my husband was delivering packages. All those days that I thought they were doing lessons… what had really been happening under my roof?

“Get your answers, Mia,” I muttered as I walked into the dining room.

Ben’s face turned white when he saw me.

A close up of a shocked man | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a shocked man | Source: Midjourney

“Care to explain what on earth Lily is talking about?” I asked.

My chest felt tight, like I was just holding it all together before some horrible news came out.

Ben let out a long breath, running his hands through his hair.

“Honey, why don’t you go play on the swing or watch some TV?” Ben told her.

We waited until Lily was happily running outside to the swing before Ben said another word.

A little girl sitting on a swing | Source: Midjourney

A little girl sitting on a swing | Source: Midjourney

“I… I lost my job, okay? Months ago. I didn’t know how to tell you, Mia.”

I blinked, trying to process his words.

“I didn’t want you to think I was a failure.”

“You lost your job? Then what on earth have you been doing all day?”

“The homeschooling. It wasn’t about Lily’s education. It was because we couldn’t afford the tuition anymore. And I know that a few months ago I wanted her to go to private school, but I couldn’t even afford her public school fees.”

A close up of an upset man | Source: Midjourney

A close up of an upset man | Source: Midjourney

Ben paused, holding his head.

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to retaliate.

“I’ve been delivering packages. It’s not stable, but it’s for a few hours a day. I take Lily with me in between her homeschooling. I know you think that I’ve been working in the study and then teaching Lily, too…”

A man holding two boxes | Source: Midjourney

A man holding two boxes | Source: Midjourney

“You’ve been delivering packages? Really? This whole time?” I asked, stunned. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to think that I was a failure,” Ben said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know how to fix this situation. But you know how stressful my job was toward the end. Those hours killed me. I thought that maybe if I could just keep things together for a little while longer…”

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around everything. I wanted to be angry.

I wanted to shout at my husband, not because he lost his job, but because he didn’t want to tell me about it. I understood the pressure of losing your job suddenly and then having to put yourself back together.

When I was pregnant with Lily, I lost my job because they couldn’t afford to keep paying me while I was on maternity leave.

A pregnant woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A pregnant woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

But Ben carried us right up until Lily was three years old.

I shook my head now, trying to shake some of my thoughts. I felt… sad. Sad that Ben had felt like he had to hide this from me.

“Ben, you didn’t have to do this alone,” I said, reaching toward him.

He smiled at me sadly.

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

We put Lily back into school the next week using our savings. She was overjoyed to see her friends, and the guilt Ben had been carrying around began to lift when he saw her running toward them at the school gate.

As for Ben, he found another job as a grocery store manager. It wasn’t his dream job, but it was honest work that came with medical benefits. And honestly, I think it was just the fact that he was earning properly again that made the biggest difference to him.

A man standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

There was a lightness back in our home that hadn’t been there in a long time. A sense that we were moving forward, together.

What would you have done?

A smiling couple with their daughter | Source: Midjourney

A smiling couple with their daughter | Source: Midjourney

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

Am I Wrong for “Hiding” My MIL’s Birthday Present to My Husband after Finding Out What Was Inside?

Tired of allowing her cold and callous mother-in-law to ruin her husband’s birthday, Lila hides Carol’s birthday present from Bill to save him the hurt and disappointment that usually came with his mother’s gifts. But when Lila’s secret comes out, a series of events unfolds.

I could tell my husband, Bill, was nervous. His birthday was coming up, and every year, his mom’s gift felt like a slap in the face.

Bill sat on our worn-out couch, his shoulders tense.

A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“Do you think she’ll actually care this time?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

I sighed, placing my hand on his. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. I knew that I needed to reassure him, but my husband’s relationship with his mother was complicated.

“Maybe,” I said. “But remember, we’re celebrating your birthday, not hers. We’ll have a great time, no matter what, darling.”

A couple holding hands | Source: Midjourney

A couple holding hands | Source: Midjourney

Bill smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I knew how much he wanted to feel loved and appreciated by Carol, but she always failed to show him that. It wasn’t just about the gifts. It was about the feeling.

Bill had told me the story a long time ago. He was his mother’s son from her first marriage, and their relationship was strong, but things took a turn when Carol met her second husband, Adam.

It became even worse when Bill’s younger brothers were born. Suddenly, Carol only had eyes for Adam and their sons, making it clear to Bill that he was no longer a priority in her life.

A mother and her sons | Source: Midjourney

A mother and her sons | Source: Midjourney

“Okay,” he said. “This year will be different.”

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.

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