My MIL and Her Friends Devoured Our $1000 Wedding Cake the Evening Before Our Wedding, So I Decided to Teach Her a Lesson

I was heartbroken and furious when I discovered my mother-in-law Linda and her friends had devoured my $1000 wedding cake. I couldn’t believe they would intentionally ruin my special day, leaving only crumbs behind. But I was determined to teach them a lesson, and hence, my revenge plan began to take shape.

“No way I’m paying. It’s too expensive for something that tasted disgusting, JUST LIKE YOUR TASTE IN EVERYTHING,” Linda sneered, barely glancing at me.

I stood frozen in my living room doorway, grocery bags slipping from my hands.

I could feel the tears welling up as I took in the scene.

My beautiful wedding cake, the one I had saved for months to afford, was gone. Only crumbs and a half-eaten slice remained on the table while Linda and her friends lounged on the couch, looking pleased with themselves.

“Linda, how could you?” I choked out as I approached the empty box. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

“That cake was for my wedding, Linda! It cost a thousand dollars! How will I replace it so soon?” I asked angrily.

“Oh, please, Emily,” Linda rolled her eyes. “It was just a cake. And honestly, it wasn’t even that good!”

“But it was important to me!” I snapped, tears streaming down my face. “You had no right to touch it!”

“Get over it, Emily,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “You’re always so dramatic. It’s just a cake, and it’s not like you have good taste in anything anyway.”

Linda and her friends exchanged amused glances before slowly getting up. “We’re leaving. But don’t expect any money from me,” she said smugly.

As they sauntered out, leaving a trail of crumbs and laughter behind them, I sank to the floor. My shoulders shook with silent sobs. The wedding was less than a day away, and now my beautiful cake was ruined.

Linda had never liked me because she wanted Alex to marry someone rich. From the moment we met, her disdain was evident. She constantly found reasons to belittle and undermine me, criticizing my choices, style, and personality at every opportunity.

But this… this was too much!

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

I couldn’t let this ruin everything. I had worked too hard and come too far to let Linda’s spiteful actions destroy my wedding. I wiped my tears and stood up.

First, I needed to call the bakery. Maybe, just maybe, they could make another cake in time. I grabbed my phone and dialed the number, praying they’d have good news.

But I was met with disappointment. No bakery was ready to take my order.

It was then that Sarah’s name popped into my head. I grabbed my phone and called her.

Sarah was not only my best friend and maid of honor but also an amazing baker. If anyone could help me, it was her.

“What? How dare she?” Sarah exclaimed as I told her everything. “Don’t worry, Emily, I’m coming over. We’ll fix this, okay?”

When Sarah walked into my kitchen that afternoon, she immediately gave me a hug. “We got this, Emily. Let’s make a cake even better than the original.”

We rolled up our sleeves and got to work. Sarah took charge, giving me instructions and keeping me focused. We mixed the batter, baked the layers, and whipped up the frosting. The kitchen filled with the comforting smells of vanilla and sugar, lifting my spirits.

“How are you holding up?” she asked as we started decorating the cake.

“I’m still upset, but I’m determined not to let Linda ruin this for me,” I replied, carefully smoothing the frosting. “Thank you so much for helping me.”

“Of course, Emily. That’s what friends are for,” Sarah said with a warm smile.

Despite the time crunch, we worked efficiently. We piped flowers, added delicate details, and made sure every inch of the cake was perfect.

As the night wore on, exhaustion set in, but we pushed through. Finally, as the first light of dawn crept through the windows, we stepped back to admire our work.

The cake was beautiful, filled with love and care. It wasn’t the same as the original, but it was even more special because Sarah and I had made it together.

“Emily, this cake is stunning,” Sarah said, wiping a smudge of frosting from her cheek. “Linda has no idea what she’s up against.”

I smiled, feeling a surge of confidence. “You’re right. I’m not done yet. I’m going to teach Linda a lesson she’ll never forget.”

And then came the moment we were waiting for.

At my wedding reception, the new cake Sarah and I had made was set up, and it looked stunning. Guests mingled, chatting happily, but I noticed Linda watching me with a disappointed look. She had expected a meltdown, not this.

Just before we cut the cake, I took a deep breath and stepped up to the microphone.

Alex stood beside me, and I felt a pang of sadness as I looked into his eyes. He loved his mother, and he had no idea what she had done to me, to us.

“Thank you all for being here today,” I began, my voice steady. “I have something to share before we celebrate with this beautiful cake…”

The room fell silent, all eyes on me. I signaled to the technician, who played the security footage I had hidden in my living room. The video showed Linda and her friends eating the original cake and making snide comments about me.

Gasps echoed around the room as everyone watched. Linda’s face turned red, and she looked around, desperate for an escape!

“I installed a camera because I knew Linda didn’t like me,” I explained calmly. “Sorry, Alex,” I added, turning to him. “I suspected she might do something to sabotage our wedding. I didn’t want to believe it, but I had to be prepared.”

The guests murmured in shock, glancing between Linda and the screen. Linda’s friends tried to slip away, but the attention was already on them.

“Despite this setback, we have a beautiful new cake thanks to my amazing friend Sarah,” I continued. “This day is about love and celebration, and I won’t let anything ruin it.”

But this wasn’t over. I had more planned, and Linda had no idea what was coming next.

Suddenly, I saw Alex making his way toward Linda, his face flushed with anger. He reached her just as she was trying to blend into the crowd.

“Mom, how could you?” Alex’s voice was loud enough to silence the nearby conversations. “You ate our wedding cake and tried to sabotage Emily’s big day? This isn’t a joke!”

Linda tried to laugh it off. “Oh, Alex, it was just a bit of fun. No harm done, right?”

“No harm done?” Alex’s voice rose. “You ruined a thousand-dollar cake and caused Emily so much stress. This isn’t funny. It’s cruel!”

The guests watched in stunned silence, their eyes shifting between Alex and Linda. I felt a pang of sympathy for Alex, having to confront his own mother like this. But it needed to be done.

Linda looked around, realizing she had no supporters in the room. She mumbled something that sounded like an apology, but no one was convinced.

Taking out my phone, I quickly texted a waiter.

With a smile, I watched the waiter read my message and nod in my direction.

Minutes later, the caterers wheeled out a beautifully decorated cake, and I saw Linda and her friends eyeing it suspiciously.

The caterers placed it on a separate table, away from the main dessert.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I announced, getting everyone’s attention once more. “We have a special treat for a select few guests.”

The caterers began serving slices of the Styrofoam cake to Linda and her friends. Each slice had a small, elegant note attached. As Linda picked up her piece, she read the note out loud: “For those with truly tasteless appetites.”

Her face turned beet red, and the room fell silent for a moment before erupting in laughter.

Linda’s friends tried to hide their embarrassment, but it was too late.

Even Linda’s husband, William, burst out laughing.

He tried to stifle it, but he couldn’t help himself. “Oh, Linda, you had this coming,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Emily, that was brilliant,” one guest said, shaking my hand.

“Serves her right,” another added, nodding in approval.

William approached me with a serious expression, though I could see a hint of a smile. “Emily, I want you to know that Linda will be held accountable for her actions. This will not go unpunished.”

“Thank you,” I replied, grateful for his support. “I appreciate it.”

As the guests continued to cheer and celebrate, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Alex standing there, a proud but sad smile on his face.

“You handled that perfectly,” he said, pulling me into a hug. “It had to be done, but I’m sorry it came to this. I wish things were different. Mom shouldn’t have gone to such an extent.”

I hugged him back, feeling a surge of love and gratitude. “Thank you, Alex. For always supporting me.”

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter, dancing, and joy. Despite everything, our wedding day had turned out better than I could have imagined, and I was glad that Linda’s antics couldn’t touch the happiness Alex and I shared.

What would you have done?

My Teenage Son Spent Grandma’s Funeral Savings on a Game — The Family Taught Him a Lesson

When Judy discovers that her teenage son has been stealing and using his grandmother’s money to satisfy his gaming addiction, she has no choice but to teach him a lesson that he will never forget.

I’ve always heard about there being one child in every family who just goes overboard and does stupid things.

I didn’t expect my son to be that child in our family.

A smiling teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

A smiling teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

My teenage son, Brandon, like most teenage boys his age, had gotten into gaming. And whenever a new game came out, he would get obsessed over it and watch the trailers, begging me to buy it.

“It’s ridiculous, Brandon,” I would say firmly. “I’m not giving you money for stupid games.”

But he was as persistent as they came. And when the latest version of his favorite game came out, he would whine and plead daily.

A teenage boy playing on a computer | Source: Midjourney

A teenage boy playing on a computer | Source: Midjourney

“Please, Mom,” he would ask at every opportunity. “Please, just this game and I won’t ask for anything else.”

“Brandon, I’ve already said no,” I would say. “Please, stop nagging. This discussion is over.”

Then, a week ago, the whining stopped. Brandon retreated to his room and was stuck behind his computer again, talk of the game long forgotten.

I was relieved, thinking that he had finally moved past this phase.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t know how else to tell him that we cannot spend money on video games,” I told my husband, Liam.

“I know,” he agreed. “It’s time that Brandon realizes that there’s more to life than just sitting behind a computer. And if he insists on it, then it’s time to get a part-time job to pay for his games.”

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

Everything seemed fine as we settled back into our routine.

Until I received a panicked call from my mom.

“My savings for the funeral! They disappeared!” Her voice trembled with fear and confusion. “Judy, they’re gone!”

A shocked old woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked old woman | Source: Midjourney

Now, I should probably explain this part:

My mother is as eccentric as they come. And for the past three years, she has gotten it into her head that she needs to save up for her funeral. She’s healthy as can be, but it’s something that she does as a comfort.

“It’s not my fault, Judy,” she would say. “Some of my friends are passing away now, and I have to be prepared, too.”

An urn on a stool | Source: Midjourney

An urn on a stool | Source: Midjourney

She would pick up her paintbrushes and splash wet paint all over her studio as she spoke.

“And it’s okay if you think I’m crazy, darling,” she would continue. “But at the end of the day, I have to do what gives me peace of mind.”

Since then, my mother had been putting away money each month.

A person holding a paintbrush | Source: Midjourney

A person holding a paintbrush | Source: Midjourney

“Where are you storing it, Mom?” I asked her one day. “Please tell me that you have a separate bank account.”

“No, Judy,” she replied, her eyes wide. “Then we definitely won’t get it out in time for you to use for my funeral. No, it’s in a little wooden box under my bed.”

“That’s not safe, Mom,” I replied. “Anyone could get to it!”

A little wooden box | Source: Midjourney

A little wooden box | Source: Midjourney

“My neighborhood is safe, darling,” she said. “Don’t you worry about that. I just need you to know where it is when you need it. You know, when the time comes.”

Little did I know, my son had heard this entire conversation.

“Calm down, Mom. I’m sure that there’s an explanation for this,” I said, trying to soothe her.

A woman on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman on the phone | Source: Midjourney

It took hours to calm her down, and every time I thought she was okay, she would burst into tears all over again.

“I should have listened to you, Judy,” she cried. “Keeping the money lying around was a very stupid thing to do.”

But as I hung up, I knew two things: who was at fault and what I was going to do.

A sad old woman | Source: Midjourney

A sad old woman | Source: Midjourney

A week earlier, Liam and I had gone away for the weekend to celebrate our anniversary, and we had left Brandon with my mother.

He had been present when my mother and I had the conversation about her savings and the little wooden box that held it.

I could remember him sitting at her kitchen table, eating the cookies she had made for him, and listening intently to the conversation.

Cookies on a plate | Source: Midjourney

Cookies on a plate | Source: Midjourney

“Gran is really worried about dying?” he asked me in the car.

“It’s normal for her to be worried,” I replied.

Now, I pieced together the story quickly. Brandon must have thought that my mother wouldn’t notice the missing money. Or maybe he did, but he didn’t care about the consequences.

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

All he had wanted was to satisfy his gaming obsession.

“Brandon, do you know anything about Grandma’s missing money?” I asked him later that evening as we cooked dinner together.

My son’s face paled in front of me.

A shocked teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

A shocked teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

“No, why would I know anything about that?” he replied, a little too quickly. “Gran didn’t tell me.”

By that point, I was certain that it was him. His tone was all off, and I had offered him a chance to confess.

The following weekend, he begged to spend the night at my mother’s house.

A smiling teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

A smiling teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

“Please, Mom,” he said. “I’m sure Gran isn’t feeling too safe at the moment.”

I allowed it, thinking that he’d try to sneak the money back.

And sure enough, when I went to pick him up, my mother opened the door beaming.

“You’ll never guess what!” she said, pulling me into a tight hug.

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

“What happened?” I asked, curiosity taking over me.

“Last night, after Brandon and I had dinner, he asked me about the money and said that he wanted to check my room,” she said.

“Oh, he said that, huh?” I asked.

A stack of dollars | Source: Midjourney

A stack of dollars | Source: Midjourney

“Yes! And he found it! He said that I must have misplaced it, and I guess that maybe I did. Most of it is there, except for about $100, but I could have used that on my nails last week for all I know.”

“I’m glad you found it, Mom,” I said earnestly, but inside, I was seething.

The plan was simple. I texted Liam and told him everything, asking him to call for a family meeting later that evening. We needed to teach Brandon a lesson that he wouldn’t forget any time soon.

A person using their phone | Source: Midjourney

A person using their phone | Source: Midjourney

After dinner, Liam stood up.

“We need to have a family meeting now,” he said. “It’s important. Don’t worry about the dishes, love, we can do it later.”

Brandon and I followed Liam into the living room and we sat down.

A teenager sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A teenager sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“Brandon, Gran told me about you finding her money last night. Her memory seems to be going, doesn’t it? Maybe we should consider a nursing home?”

Liam nodded his head slowly.

“Look, Judy, I know that it’s painful to think about. But maybe that will be the best thing, if she’s worried about her memory.”

A close-up of a man | Source: Midjourney

A close-up of a man | Source: Midjourney

“What? No! She’s fine!” Brandon protested, his eyes wide with panic.

“Well, she’s lost her money once. What if it’s her keys or she forgets to take her medication or put the stove off?” my husband added, playing his part perfectly.

My son’s face turned a deep shade of red.

A close-up of a teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

A close-up of a teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

“She didn’t lose the money! It was there all along!” he said.

“So, you’re saying that Grandma’s lying?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I’m saying that maybe she’s just confused,” he said, squirming in his seat.

“If she’s that confused, then maybe a nursing home is best,” I replied.

An old woman at a nursing home | Source: Midjourney

An old woman at a nursing home | Source: Midjourney

“I’ll make some calls tomorrow,” my husband said.

Finally, Brandon’s façade crumbled.

“Okay, okay! I took the money! I’m sorry! But I just wanted to buy my game. I didn’t think that it would cause so much trouble.”

We let him sit in silence for a moment, the weight of his confession hanging in the air.

An upset teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

An upset teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

“Brandon, stealing is wrong. And lying about it makes it worse,” I said softly. “You’re going to have to make this right.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’ll get a summer job and pay Grandma back. I promise.”

“That’s a start,” I said. “But you also need to apologize to Grandma. And you’re going to tell her the truth. Not me. And you’re grounded from using your computer until you’ve paid back every cent. Do you understand?”

A close-up of a stern woman | Source: Midjourney

A close-up of a stern woman | Source: Midjourney

Brandon nodded, tears streaming down his face.

“I will, I promise. I’ll get a job at the ice cream place and I’ll make everything right.”

Of course, he had no other choice.

An ice cream store | Source: Midjourney

An ice cream store | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

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

My Kids Listed My House on Airbnb While I Was in the Hospital — I Found a Way to Teach Them a Lesson

Mariah had been feeling less than healthy lately, causing her to admit herself to the hospital so that she could have a check-up. But in her absence, her children decided to rent out her house as an Airbnb, ready to pocket the money for themselves. When Mariah found out, she decided to teach them a lesson.

“I want you to tell Denise to book it,” I said. “But they’ll recognize that it’s her, so she’s probably going to need to create a new account. Do you think she’ll be okay with that?”

A phone opened to an Airbnb app | Source: Pexels

A phone opened to an Airbnb app | Source: Pexels

“Of course, she will!” Liz said. “Anything for you. But then what?”

“I’m getting discharged tomorrow,” I said. “But the kids think that I’ll be here until the end of the week. So, let them think that they’re going to make some money off the place.”

A close-up of a woman's IV and hospital band | Source: Midjourney

A close-up of a woman’s IV and hospital band | Source: Midjourney

“You want Denise to rent the place, but you want to mess it up?” Liz chuckled. “That’s devious.”

“No, my children are devious,” I said.

I hung up the call, and the nurse brought my lunch to me, ready to leave me alone to eat while she did her rounds.

Read the full story here.

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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