My Stepmom Told Me to Wash Dishes After Her Birthday Party Because I Didn’t Gift Her a Dishwasher – Karma Hit back for Her Audacity

When Mia’s stepmother, Trudy, plans an elaborate party for her 45th birthday, Mia has no choice but to do as she is told, including being a hidden helper throughout the festivities. But lucky for Mia, karma seems to be on her side, ready to teach Trudy a lesson.

Grab some popcorn, folks, because this story is one of those moments when the universe steps in and delivers a cosmic smackdown right when you least expect it.

Let me introduce you to the key players of the story:

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

I’m Mia. I’m sixteen years old and stuck in a suburban home with my dad and stepmom, Trudy. Trudy’s been around for about two years, and, oh boy, does she have the “wicked stepmother” act down perfectly.

If you looked up “entitled” in the dictionary, I’m pretty sure you’d find her picture staring back at you.

Life with her has felt like living inside a bad reality show, but no one is filming, and definitely not paying me for my trouble.

A close up of an older woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of an older woman | Source: Midjourney

Dad stays out of the way as much as he can. He’s the “happy wife, happy life” type of man, except that Trudy’s never really happy. She’s the type who expects the world to fall at her feet and cater to her every whim.

Now, let’s talk about last Saturday, the day of Trudy’s birthday party. It was so over-the-top that, honestly, it could have been a wedding reception.

It was her 45th birthday, and Trudy was trying to hold on to her youth in any way she could. In the week leading up to the party, she strutted around the house like some kind of queen.

A smiling older man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older man | Source: Midjourney

“You’d better get me something special this year, Mia,” she said when she came into the kitchen as I was cutting up fruit for my morning smoothie. “A dishwasher would be nice. After all, I’ve done a lot for you.”

Yeah, sure. Good old Trudy. She’s done a lot for me… if you count bossing me around like I’m some sort of Cinderella knockoff.

A close up of a smoothie | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a smoothie | Source: Midjourney

“Uh, Trudy,” I said, adding yogurt to the blender, “I’m kind of saving for my prom dress.”

I already knew where this conversation was going.

Her face twisted into this weird look, like she couldn’t believe I just said that.

“Your prom dress?” she scoffed. “Mia, that’s ridiculous! You can just buy something from one of the clothing stores. Something cheap. A dishwasher is much more practical. I don’t want to hear any more excuses.”

A woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

Excuses? I was floored. This woman really expected me to drop all my savings on an appliance just because she “deserved” it. Like, where’s my fairy godmother when I need her?

And anyway, Trudy was the one who convinced my dad that I was too young to get an after-school or weekend job.

“Mia can only babysit kids on this street,” Trudy told my dad one night at dinner. “She’ll be safe and only a few houses away from home. And anyway, it’s not like she needs that much money.”

A woman sitting at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

So, all my prom dress savings? They were from babysitting jobs that I had taken over the past year.

They wouldn’t even cover a tiny dishwasher, let alone the dress I wanted. But I was determined to still find something that I loved.

Fast forward to the day of Trudy’s 45th birthday. The house was buzzing with caterers, an event planner ran around with a clipboard, and enough floral arrangements to rival a garden center.

An outdoor birthday party setting | Source: Midjourney

An outdoor birthday party setting | Source: Midjourney

Meanwhile, I was in the background, wiping down mirrors, setting up drink stations, and generally trying to avoid all eye contact.

“Jeez,” I said to myself, “are the Royal Family coming over?”

I set up the gin station and tried to leave for my room, hoping that I would make myself presentable before Trudy’s posse of friends showed up.

A gin station | Source: Midjourney

A gin station | Source: Midjourney

As soon as the guests arrived, Trudy transformed into some kind of celebrity. She walked around, tossing fake smiles and soaking up compliments like she was at the Oscars or something.

“Mia! Can you refill the drinks? My guests are thirsty!” she barked from the marquee outside.

Of course, I had no choice but to do so. I couldn’t say no. Not with so many people around. Trudy would probably implode.

A woman wearing a gold dress | Source: Midjourney

A woman wearing a gold dress | Source: Midjourney

I did as I was told, floating around like the invisible Cinderella. I was counting down the minutes until we lit the candles on the elaborate cake and the whole day would just dwindle into nothing.

I hid away for a few moments, finally able to get my hands on some food. At least Trudy loved her food, and she had told the caterers that she wanted elaborate meals.

“You’re hiding here, kiddo?” my dad chuckled when he caught me eating a portion of lobster mac and cheese.

A bowl of lobster mac and cheese | Source: Midjourney

A bowl of lobster mac and cheese | Source: Midjourney

“I’m starving, Dad,” I said, eating another forkful of food. “And everyone is eating anyway.”

“Take some time off, Mimi,” he said. “Eat. I’ll bring you one of those fancy milkshakes from the milkshake station.”

Soon after, it was time for the cake. My dad lit the candles while Trudy beamed like a Cheshire cat and did a little dance.

A gold and white cake | Source: Midjourney

A gold and white cake | Source: Midjourney

Everyone sang for her at the top of their voices, and Trudy blew out the candles. As the party was winding down, she clinked her fork against her wine glass and fixed me with that awful, expectant glare of hers.

“Mia, since you didn’t bother to buy me a dishwasher for my birthday, the least you could do is wash all these dishes. It’s only fair.”

I stood there, stunned for a second. Everyone went quiet. Twenty pairs of eyes stared at me like I was the villain in this scenario.

She really said it. Out loud. In front of all her friends.

A smug woman in a gold dress | Source: Midjourney

A smug woman in a gold dress | Source: Midjourney

“You didn’t get your mom a birthday present?” one of Trudy’s friends, Alexis, said. “That’s just… rude. And sad.”

My throat tightened, but I managed to keep my voice calm.

“Trudy, I told you, I didn’t have the money. Especially for a dishwasher. I’ve been saving for prom.”

She waved her hand like I was talking nonsense.

An upset teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

“Just wash the dishes, Mia,” she said. “Do something useful for once.”

I could have screamed. But instead, I swallowed my pride and nodded.

“Fine. I’ll get changed and started on them,” I said.

I spent the next hour elbow-deep in soapy water, scrubbing until my fingers went numb. I wanted to cry, but instead, I just scrubbed harder, imagining the day I’d finally escape this madhouse.

A teenager washing dishes | Source: Midjourney

A teenager washing dishes | Source: Midjourney

By the time I finished, the party was over, and Trudy’s friends were long gone. I dragged myself to bed, emotionally drained.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Trudy’s shriek coming from the kitchen. I thought maybe one of her fancy new gadgets broke. She had just bought herself a lavish new coffee machine that looked like it belonged in a coffee shop.

A coffee machine | Source: Midjourney

A coffee machine | Source: Midjourney

But when I walked into the kitchen, I found her standing in the middle of a disaster zone.

The kitchen was trashed.

The smell of burnt plastic filled the air, and the floor was flooded.

“Mia!” she screamed when she saw me. “Look at what happened!”

A flooded kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A flooded kitchen | Source: Midjourney

I blinked, still half-asleep.

“What… what is going on?”

“The pipes!” she shrieked, flailing her arms. “Oh, my kitchen is ruined! This is going to cost a fortune to fix!”

“But everything was fine last night when I went to bed. What happened here?”

My dad stuck his head into the kitchen.

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

“Trudy, did you really drop all the meat oils into the sink last night?” my dad asked.

“I did!” she said. “I didn’t know where else to throw it out. And the caterers left without taking it. But I did throw some drain cleaner down the sink, too.”

“Oh, Trudy! You’re not supposed to do that! Now look! You messed this up! I told you to just pour out a kettle of boiling water.”

Oil being poured in a sink | Source: Midjourney

Oil being poured in a sink | Source: Midjourney

My first instinct was to laugh. I know I shouldn’t have, but come on. After everything? Didn’t it just seem like karma played a part in this, too?

While Trudy was losing her mind, I couldn’t help but feel a tiny smirk tugging at my lips. I didn’t say a word.

For the next week, the kitchen was completely out of commission. My dad, bless his heart, tried to soothe her, but the damage was done. The cost of the repairs was so high that Dad announced that they’d have to cut back on expenses.

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

“Except for Mia,” he said. “I have $500 for her prom dress.”

“You can’t be serious, David!” Trudy hissed. “You want me to pay for the new kitchen tiles, but you can spoil Mia?”

“You spoiled yourself for your party. I can spoil my child for her prom.”

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

And that was how Trudy learned not to cross my dad. But she did change her tune a bit. She allowed me to get my part-time job, and she tried to actually mend things with me.

“I’ll come with you when you go looking for your dress, Mia,” she said.

Do you think it will last?

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

My MIL Moved in with Us — I Found Her Showing a Strange Sign In the Window Every Night

When Rosa’s mother-in-law, Victoria, moved in to help care for her five-year-old granddaughter, life seemed to be falling into place. But late at night, Victoria’s strange hand gestures in the window revealed a secret Rosa never saw coming. A secret that would change their lives forever.

I thought having Victoria move in with us would be a win-win where Clara would get to spend more time with her grandma, and I could finally get back to work.

But as the days passed, little things about Victoria started to feel off.

An older woman | Source: Midjourney

An older woman | Source: Midjourney

Life hadn’t always been easy, but it had been good.

I had a loving husband, Mark, and a beautiful five-year-old daughter, Clara, who brought light into every corner of our lives.

Mark worked hard to provide for us, and although money had been tight lately, we always found a way to make things work.

Victoria, my mother-in-law, had always been part of that “good” life.

An older woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

An older woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

She was kind, helpful, and never the stereotypical meddling mother-in-law you’d hear horror stories about.

From the day Mark and I got married, she welcomed me with open arms, treating me more like a daughter than an in-law.

Victoria had faced her share of heartache. She lost her husband five years ago, just a year after Mark and I got married.

I still remember how devastated she was during that time. She tried to stay strong for Mark, but you could see the sadness in her eyes.

A woman talking to her son | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her son | Source: Midjourney

Honestly, it wasn’t easy for any of us, but things started to look up when Clara was born.

Victoria had always dreamed of being a grandmother, and Clara’s arrival brought her a joy I hadn’t seen in years. She even moved in with us for a few months to help me navigate the chaos of being a first-time mom.

A newborn baby | Source: Pexels

A newborn baby | Source: Pexels

Those months were some of the best of my life. She was supportive, loving, and full of wisdom I didn’t even know I needed.

As the years passed, Clara grew into a bright, energetic little girl who was the center of all our lives. She had a way of lighting up any room she walked into, and we adored her. But as much as I loved being a stay-at-home mom, I knew it was time for a change.

A woman in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her house | Source: Midjourney

Clara had started school, and with our finances tighter than ever, I decided it was time to go back to work.

When I brought up the idea to Victoria, she surprised me with an offer I hadn’t even considered.

“I could move in again,” she said one afternoon over tea. “It’d be easier for you to get back to work if someone’s here to take care of Clara. I’d love the company, too.”

The idea immediately appealed to me. It felt like the perfect solution.

A woman in her bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her bedroom | Source: Midjourney

Clara would have her grandmother around, I could focus on restarting my career, and Victoria wouldn’t be lonely at her place.

When I talked it over with Mark, he was fully on board.

“It’s a great idea,” he said, smiling. “Mom loves Clara, and she’ll love having a reason to be busy.”

And just like that, we made the arrangements.

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

A few weeks later, Victoria moved back into our home, just like she had when Clara was a baby. I was excited about the change and confident it was the best move for everyone.

What I didn’t expect was how her arrival would bring a wave of strangeness into our lives. The strange, small moments made me question whether I truly knew the woman I had welcomed into my home.

At first, it was nothing. Just little things that I brushed off as quirks. But as the days turned into weeks, Victoria’s behavior started to feel odd.

A woman talking to her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

One evening, I walked into Clara’s room to find Victoria kneeling by the toy chest. Her hands were moving quickly, rummaging through the pile of stuffed animals, dolls, and building blocks.

“Everything okay?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Oh, just organizing,” she said without looking up.

Her tone was casual, but something about the way she avoided my gaze didn’t sit right with me.

The next morning, Clara was inconsolable.

A little girl crying | Source: Pexels

A little girl crying | Source: Pexels

“Where’s Bun-Bun?” she wailed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Bun-Bun, her favorite stuffed bunny, was nowhere to be found. I turned the house upside down looking for it, checking under beds, behind cushions, and even in the washing machine.

But I couldn’t find it.

A few days later, I was walking past Victoria’s room when something caught my eye. There, perched neatly on her dresser, was Bun-Bun.

I picked it up and walked into the living room, where Victoria was sipping her tea.

A cup of tea | Source: Pexels

A cup of tea | Source: Pexels

“I found this in your room,” I said, holding up the bunny.

“Oh, yes,” she said with a smile. “I borrowed it to fix a tear.”

I examined the bunny.

“I don’t see any tear,” I said.

“Well, it was very small.”

The explanation didn’t sit right with me, but I decided to let it go. Maybe she had good intentions.

But then there were the pictures.

Victoria started taking photos of Clara constantly. Not just cute candid moments but posed shots.

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

She’d ask Clara to change into different outfits, sometimes even ones she hadn’t worn in months.

“Smile, sweetie,” she’d say, clicking away on her phone.

One afternoon, I caught her sending one of the photos to someone.

“Who are you sending these to?” I asked casually.

“An old friend,” she said with a shrug.

“Who?” I pressed.

“Oh, just someone I’ve reconnected with recently,” she said, avoiding my eyes.

Her vagueness made me uneasy.

What kind of friend needed so many pictures of my daughter?

A woman standing in her room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her room | Source: Midjourney

The strangest thing, though, was what she did every night by the window.

At exactly 9:00 p.m., without fail, Victoria would stand in front of the living room window and make a hand gesture. It looked like she was flashing a “cool” sign and moving it slightly back and forth.

At first, I thought she might be stretching, but the motion seemed too deliberate. One night, I asked her about it.

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

“What’s that gesture you’re doing at the window?”

She laughed. “Oh, just stretching my hand out. It gets stiff sometimes.”

But it didn’t look like stretching to me.

I told Mark about it, hoping he’d share my concern.

“You’re overthinking things,” he said, shaking his head. “Mom’s just quirky. You know that.”

I tried to let it go, but the unease gnawed at me.

Who was this “old friend”? Why was she so secretive? And what was she really doing at the window every night?

A window of a house at night | Source: Pexels

A window of a house at night | Source: Pexels

The breaking point came when I didn’t see her do the gesture one night.

Honestly, I felt relieved. I thought whatever she was doing had stopped. But then, as I passed Clara’s room on my way to bed, I heard Victoria’s voice through the door.

She was reading Clara a bedtime story. I paused to listen, smiling at the sweet moment. But then she said something that made me freeze.

“Now it’s time for that surprise I told you about,” Victoria whispered. “Let’s get dressed, and remember, Mom doesn’t need to know.”

A woman standing near her daughter's room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing near her daughter’s room | Source: Midjourney

What surprise was she talking about? And why was she keeping it a secret?

Cracking the door open just enough to see, I watched as Victoria helped Clara into her coat.

I stood frozen as they quietly slipped out the back door.

This can’t be happening, I thought and immediately bolted after them.

“Victoria! Stop!” I shouted.

She jumped, startled, and Clara clung to her hand, looking confused.

“Mommy?” Clara’s small voice broke through the tension.

Before I could say another word, I noticed a man standing at the edge of the driveway, just beyond the glow of our porch light.

A man standing outside a house | Source: Midjourney

A man standing outside a house | Source: Midjourney

He was older, maybe in his sixties, with a calm but unreadable expression. He didn’t move or speak.

Just stood there watching us.

“What is going on here?” I demanded.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Victoria stammered. “We were just—”

“What’s happening?” Mark intervened. “And who’s that?”

He’d just come running from the house after hearing me scream. Victoria couldn’t hide her secret any longer after seeing her son.

A man standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney

A man standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney

“This… this is Richard,” she said as tears trickled down her cheeks. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Mark and I stared at her, stunned.

“Boyfriend?” Mark repeated, his voice filled with disbelief. “Mom, what are you talking about?”

Victoria took a deep breath as she wiped tears off her cheeks.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” she began. “Your father’s been gone for five years, and I… I’ve been lonely. Richard and I met a while ago, but I was scared you wouldn’t understand.”

A woman talking to her son | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her son | Source: Midjourney

“He’s deaf and doesn’t speak,” she continued as her gaze landed on me. “So, we’ve been using sign language to communicate. The gesture you saw in the window? It means ‘tomorrow.’ It’s how I’d let him know when it was safe to come by.”

I blinked, trying to process her words. “Safe to come by for what?”

“For this,” she said, gesturing toward Clara. “He’s been wanting to meet you guys and Clara for months, but I wasn’t ready to tell you about him. Clara overheard me talking about him to a friend once, and she got curious. Tonight, she asked if she could meet him, and I thought…” Her voice cracked. “I thought it might be okay if I introduced them quietly.”

A woman talking to her son | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her son | Source: Midjourney

Mark ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident.

“Mom, you couldn’t have just told us? Did you really think sneaking out in the middle of the night with Clara was the right way to handle this?”

Richard stepped forward, his hands moving in slow, deliberate gestures. Victoria translated it for us.

“He says he’s sorry,” she revealed. “He didn’t mean to cause any trouble. He just wanted to meet the people who mean the most to me. And he wanted to give Clara something special.”

A man standing outside at night | Source: Midjourney

A man standing outside at night | Source: Midjourney

She glanced at Richard, who nodded, encouraging her to explain.

“That’s why I took Bun-Bun,” she said, looking at me apologetically. “Richard’s been working on sewing Clara a handmade stuffed bunny to match it. He needed Bun-Bun as a reference. And the pictures I was taking? He’s been designing little outfits for the bunny that match Clara’s clothes.”

I stared at her, speechless. All the strange behavior, the missing bunny, the endless photos, the secret hand signs suddenly made sense.

A pink bunny | Source: Pexels

A pink bunny | Source: Pexels

“Mom, you could’ve just told us,” Mark said softly. “You didn’t need to hide all of this.”

“I know,” she said, wiping away tears. “I was afraid of how you’d react. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I crouched down to Clara’s level, brushing her hair out of her face.

“You scared me, sweetheart,” I said softly. “Next time, let’s talk about surprises before sneaking out, okay?”

She nodded, her small arms wrapping around my neck. “Okay, Mommy.”

A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney

We invited Richard inside that night, and as awkward as it was at first, it didn’t take long for Clara to warm up to him. She proudly showed him her toys while Victoria translated his gestures. He seemed kind, thoughtful, and genuinely caring.

True to Victoria’s word, Richard presented Clara with a beautiful handmade stuffed bunny a week later. It was a perfect replica of Bun-Bun, complete with matching clothes that Clara couldn’t wait to wear herself.

Over the next few weeks, Richard became a regular presence in our lives.

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

What started as a series of unsettling mysteries ended with our family growing in an unexpected and beautiful way. Victoria learned to trust us with her truths, and we learned to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Sometimes, even the strangest signs point to the most unexpected joys.

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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