My MIL Turned My Bathroom Into a Spa Using All My Stuff So I Planned the Perfect Revenge — Story of the Day
I loved the calm of our apartment—vanilla-scented, orderly, with sunlight hitting the kitchen counter at 4 PM. Then Daniel said his mom, Linda, needed to stay for a week due to a burst pipe. By day two, my photos were replaced with her sepia portraits, and potpourri invaded my underwear drawer. I stayed quiet until I found her using my expensive cream. Then, I caught her in my tub, surrounded by my candles, passionfruit gel, and towel, acting like it was hers.
When Linda threw a party in my blouse, claiming my house as hers, I’d had enough. I smiled and got creative. I “accidentally” let her friends explore Daniel’s office, use his cologne, and admire his car—maybe too closely. I sprayed his cologne, bent a tie pin, and gently brushed the car against the mailbox. Daniel, furious, rushed Linda back to her apartment.
That night, I soaked in my tub, reclaiming my space. Linda crossed a line, but I didn’t scream—I won. The house felt mine again, whispering peace. Sometimes, you don’t confront the intruder; you outsmart them, letting their own actions unravel their stay.
