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.

Disguised as a Cleaner, a Journalist Faces the Unexpected When a Millionaire Recognizes Her Pendant – Story of the Day

Laura believed that her writing could change the world. But reality turned out differently, and her boss pushed her to dig up dirt on famous people. Desperate to save her job, she disguises herself as a cleaner to get compromising details on a millionaire. However, she uncovers a life-changing truth in the process.

The office hummed with the familiar sounds of keyboards clicking, phones ringing, and the occasional burst of laughter from a distant corner.

Laura sat at her desk, papers scattered around her, but her focus was elsewhere.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Reggie, the editor-in-chief, stepped out of his office.

His eyes scanned the room until they landed on her. He looked tired—more tired than usual—and his face carried the weight of disappointment.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Laura… come to my office for a minute,” he said. His tone was calm but firm. He held the door open, waiting for her to follow.

Taking a deep breath, Laura rose from her chair and walked toward Reggie’s office, each step feeling heavier than the last.

“Sit down,” Reggie said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk.

“Reggie, I was just about to tell you about a new article I’m working on,” she began, trying to sound upbeat. “It’s about the chemical pollution in a nearby lake—”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“That’s exactly what I wanted to discuss with you,” Reggie cut in, sighing as he sank into his chair. He folded his hands and looked directly at her.

“Laura, pollution in forests, lakes, the extinction of… what are they called again?”

“California condors,” Laura said, her tone sharp.

“Condors, yes.” He nodded.

“People don’t care about this stuff, Laura. They don’t read it. And it’s not just my opinion—the data backs it up.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Laura’s brow furrowed. “But people should care, Reggie! This isn’t just about nature; it affects our health, our communities—everything!”

Reggie leaned forward, his voice hardening.

“It doesn’t bring in money. We all need to eat. Salaries need to be paid, and I can’t pay someone who isn’t generating revenue.”

Reggie softened his tone, removing his glasses and rubbing his temples.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I like you, Laura. You’re talented, and you care about your work. That’s why I’m trying to help you.”

“How?”

Reggie slid a photograph across the desk. It showed an elderly man with a stern expression.

“This is Mr. Weiss,” Reggie said. “You know who he is, don’t you?”

“A wealthy man,” Laura murmured, studying the image.

“The wealthiest man in the city,” Reggie corrected.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Rumor has it he’s been spending tens of thousands on private investigators. Years of it.”

“And?” Laura asked, confused. “It’s his money. Why does that matter?”

“Why would an old man need private investigators?” Reggie leaned back, a sly smile forming.

“Mistresses, scandals, maybe even crimes. Find anything—and I mean anything—about his expenditures, and spin it into a story. This could be the article that saves your career.”

Laura hesitated. “And if I can’t?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Reggie’s smile faded. “Then I’d recommend you start looking for another job.”

The cold air nipped at Laura’s cheeks as she stood in front of the grand estate, its towering gates and sprawling lawn exuding wealth and history.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and rang the doorbell.

The heavy wooden door creaked open slowly, revealing an elderly man. His figure was slightly hunched, his face marked by deep lines of exhaustion.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Dark circles framed his eyes, and his scruffy beard looked like it hadn’t been groomed in days.

“Good morning, Mr. Weiss,” Laura said with a polite smile that she hoped masked her nerves.

“My name is Laura. We spoke on the phone about the cleaning position.”

“Good morning,” Mr. Weiss replied, his voice quiet and tinged with weariness. “Come in. Forgive the mess; there’s plenty of work to keep you busy.”

Laura stepped inside, her eyes widening as she took in the space.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

A thick layer of dust covered the once-pristine surfaces, cobwebs adorned the corners, and books and papers were scattered haphazardly across the rooms.

“As you can see,” Mr. Weiss continued, “I really need the help. Start wherever you’d like. I’ll be in my study.”

With that, he turned and shuffled away, closing the study door behind him.

“Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Weiss,” Laura called after him, but he didn’t respond.

Through the brief crack before the door shut, Laura glimpsed his desk. It was cluttered with papers, photographs, and what looked like old receipts.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Her heart raced—this could be where the secrets were buried.

Laura spent the next hour cleaning the house, her movements mechanical as her mind churned with plans.

Finally, she approached the study door and knocked softly. “Mr. Weiss, I’m coming in to clean—”

“No!” His voice was startlingly sharp as the door opened just enough for him to peer out.

“The study doesn’t need cleaning. Thank you for your work today. If you’ve finished the other rooms, you’re free to leave.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“There are still a couple of rooms left,” Laura replied, feigning disappointment, but her mind was already racing.

The study was off-limits, and she was more determined than ever to find out why.

Laura crouched near the sofa, her heart racing.

She glanced toward the study door, still closed, as her mind raced through the plan one more time.

It wasn’t elegant, but it might work. Taking a deep breath, she screamed, her voice sharp and filled with faux terror.

“Aaaaah! Mr. Weiss! Help!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. Moments later, Mr. Weiss appeared, his face a mask of alarm.

“What happened?” he demanded, clutching the edge of the doorway.

“There’s a rat!” Laura cried, pointing under the couch with a trembling hand. “It just ran under there! Please, I can’t stand rats—they terrify me!”

“A rat?” Mr. Weiss frowned, his brow furrowing.

“That’s impossible.” He grabbed a broom leaning against the wall and knelt to peer under the couch.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Where? I don’t see anything. Did it run out?” he asked, poking around with the broom handle.

“I… I don’t know!” Laura stammered, backing toward the hallway. “Just keep looking. I’ll hide in the kitchen!”

Mr. Weiss grumbled but continued his search, muttering to himself about how unlikely it was.

As soon as he was fully distracted, Laura moved quickly. She slipped into his study, closing the door as quietly as possible.

The room was dim, illuminated only by a small desk lamp. Papers were strewn across the desk—receipts, handwritten notes, and photographs.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Laura’s journalist instincts kicked in as she pulled a small camera from her pocket and took pictures.

Her hands trembled as she worked quickly, her breath shallow.

Then she saw it. Among the scattered documents was a detailed sketch of a medallion.

She froze, her pulse hammering in her ears.

Reaching for her necklace, she pulled the small pendant from under her blouse and held it next to the sketch. They were identical.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Laura.”

The low, heavy voice sent a chill down her spine. She turned to see Mr. Weiss standing in the doorway, his face shadowed.

“I told you not to come in here,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of anger and pain.

Her hand instinctively clutched the pendant. Mr. Weiss’s eyes widened as he stepped closer, his gaze fixed on the pendant.

“Where did you get that pendant?” he asked, his voice trembling. He reached out, his hand shaking as he touched the necklace.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Tell me! Where?”

“It was my mother’s,” Laura snapped, pulling back.

“Your mother…” Mr. Weiss whispered, his face pale. “Was her name Dora?”

Laura’s breath caught. “Yes. How do you know that?”

Mr. Weiss’s knees buckled, and he sank to the floor. Tears welled in his eyes as his voice broke.

“Dora… my sweet Dora. She had a daughter…” He looked up at Laura, his expression filled with anguish. “Forgive me. Please forgive me.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Laura staggered back, her hand gripping the desk for support. “You knew my mother?”

“I’m your father,” Mr. Weiss said, his voice raw with emotion.

The words hit her like a blow. “You left her!” she cried, tears streaming down her face.

“You abandoned her—and me! She struggled every day because of you!”

“I know,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“I was a coward. I was afraid of responsibility, afraid of being a father. I’ve regretted it every day. I tried to find her, but she cut all ties. Tell me—where is she now?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“She’s gone,” Laura spat bitterly.

“She died ten years ago. She got sick, and it’s your fault. She fought so hard to survive, but she was alone because you weren’t there.”

Mr. Weiss crumpled, his body wracked with sobs.

“I never stopped looking. I never stopped loving her. I’m so sorry, Laura. I’m so sorry.”

Laura stared at him, her chest heaving with anger and pain. She shook her head, grabbing her bag.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I can’t do this,” she said, her voice trembling as she turned and fled the room.

The sound of his sobs followed her as she ran through the grand house and out into the cold night.

Later, Laura sat in the newsroom, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

The photographs lay beside her, their edges curling slightly under the pressure of her hand.

On her screen, the half-written article glared back at her. This story would blow up—it would ruin Mr. Weiss’s name, tarnish his legacy, and save her job.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

But as she stared at the photos, her chest tightened. Anger and doubt battled in her mind.

Could she really destroy him after everything she had learned? He wasn’t just a stranger anymore. He was her father.

Summoning her courage, Laura stood and walked into Reggie’s office. Her breath felt heavier with each step.

“Reggie, can I come in?”

“Of course,” Reggie said, leaning forward with anticipation. “Please tell me you’ve got something good.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Laura placed a photograph on his desk. “The article is ready. I can send it over now.”

Reggie’s eyes gleamed as he examined the picture. “This is perfect, Laura! A millionaire’s dirty secrets—this is going to be huge!”

Laura’s hands trembled. Reggie’s words felt like nails on a chalkboard.

“No,” she said suddenly, grabbing the photo back. Without thinking, she ripped it into shreds and tossed them into the air.

“What are you doing?” Reggie roared, his face turning red.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I won’t ruin his life. If that’s what this job takes, I don’t want it,” Laura said, her voice steady.

“You’re fired!” he shouted.

Laura walked out, her head held high. She had lost her job, but she had found something far more valuable—her integrity.

And for the first time in years, she had a family worth fighting for.

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: “All men are liars.” With these words, Violet ended her radio program. Her life experiences and the countless stories she heard from her listeners had proven it. But, a date with a coworker made her question her belief. After a call from a stranger, she was convinced she had been right all along.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

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