I Received a Panicked Video Message from My Mom — I Was Stunned to Learn What Dad Had Done to Her.

While Annie is having a lazy Saturday, sitting around and scrolling through social media, a video message from her mom pops up. As she hits play, Annie discovers that one of her father’s pranks has left her mother scared and alone. Annie rushes over to her parents’ house, ready to teach her father a lesson.

I didn’t think my dad would ever take one of his dumb jokes this far, but here we are, having lived through it. My phone lit up earlier today with a video message from my mom that made my heart stop for a second.

I wasn’t prepared for what I saw, and now, hours later, I’m still trying to process the whole thing.

Let me back up a second and give you some context on how everything went down. My dad is what you’d call “old school.” He has this grumpy exterior, like he came straight out of the 1970s and never quite adapted to life in the present.

He’s not a bad guy, but he can be ridiculously difficult to get along with. He doesn’t do heart-to-hearts or deep conversations. Instead, he sheds part of his grumpiness off when he’s at home and leans into his pranking nature. They are harmless, annoying little pranks that he thinks are hilarious but leave my mom rolling her eyes and sighing.

Most of the time, Dad does really stupid stuff like hiding Mom’s glasses when she’s looking for them or misplacing her keys right when she’s about to leave. These pranks have always been annoying, but nothing too wild.

Except today.

Today, Dad decided to really outdo himself.

I was in my little apartment about 20 minutes from my parents’ house. I was minding my own business, sipping on a soft drink and scrolling through TikTok, when my phone pinged with a message from my mother.

A video message.

The thumbnail was black, and all I could hear was her voice, which was muffled and kind of shaky. Like she was afraid of something.

That’s when I got a bit panicked. Mom wasn’t the type to send video messages. To be honest, I didn’t think she knew how to do it. Immediately, I knew that something was off.

I tapped play, and there she was. The camera was all shaky, and she was crouched in a corner, whispering like she was about to be caught by someone or something.

“Annie,” she breathed into the phone. “Sweetheart, your dad… he locked me in the basement. Can you come help me? He thinks this is funny. All because he wanted to eat in peace. I think there are rats or mice in the basement, Annie. Come quickly.”

What. The. Hell.

I was so shocked, I nearly dropped my phone onto the floor. Locked in the basement? He locked her in the basement? And it was supposed to be funny?

My dad, in all his “wisdom,” had apparently decided that the best way to enjoy his dinner in peace was to lock my mother in the basement. Just so that she wouldn’t remind him to eat his veggies during a precious football game? He truly didn’t care about his cholesterol.

I called her back immediately, but it went straight to voicemail.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up!” I muttered.

My brain went straight into overdrive. My mom never asked for help unless things were way beyond something she could do for herself. She was a woman who could handle herself. I mean, she’s lived with my father for years, so that had to count for something. But she was also a woman who was deeply afraid of the dark and confined places.

So now, she was locked in the basement and not answering her phone. Dad had really crossed a line with this one.

I texted her, but there was no response.

“Maybe her phone died, Annie,” I told myself. “She must be so afraid… and livid.”

I knew I had to get to her as soon as possible.

I grabbed my keys and bolted out of my apartment. I live about twenty minutes away from my parents, but I swear, I made it in twelve.

The entire drive, I was fuming, and I already knew how this was going to end. My dad thought he was clever, but if there’s one thing I inherited from him, other than his eye color, it’s the ability to come up with a solid revenge plan.

“I can’t believe the nerve of this man,” I said to myself as I turned into our street.

When I got to the house, I didn’t even bother knocking. I had my spare key, so I let myself in. As soon as I stepped inside, I could hear the muffled sound of the TV blaring from the living room.

Classic Dad.

He was probably sitting there, stuffing his face with steak. It was a home routine—Saturdays meant steak for dinner. Little did he know, I was about to teach him a lesson, too.

I headed straight for the basement. Sure enough, the door was locked, but the key hung from the hook next to the door.

I knocked softly, and Mom’s relieved voice came through the wood.

“Honey, is that you?” she whispered.

“Yeah, it’s me, Mom,” I said. “Hang tight, we’re getting you out of there.”

I unlocked the door, and when my mother stepped out, she didn’t even look mad. She just looked tired. But there was a glint in her eye, like she wanted to get revenge on my father, too.

“Dad’s still in the living room,” I said. “He didn’t even hear me come in.”

“Oh? He’s still enjoying his victory, then?”

“Yeah, well, that’s going to be short-lived, Mom,” I said.

There’s one thing about my father: he loves his “throne.” It’s a ridiculous electric recliner that he spent way too much money on a few years ago. He loves it more than any person in the world, which is sad and pathetic, but true.

The chair has heated seats, a massage feature, and even USB ports. He treats it like it’s something sacred in our home.

Naturally, I aimed my revenge at it.

I told my mom the plan, and she laughed nervously. We crept toward the living room where Dad was zoned out, still glued to his game, digging into his dinner.

I quietly unplugged his precious chair from the wall. And the best part? This man didn’t even notice a thing. Then, with my mom watching, I pulled a little tube of super glue that I had taken from the kitchen.

I smeared it over the chair’s buttons, still absolutely perplexed that my father didn’t register that I was in the room, right next to him.

After that, Mom and I went back to the kitchen. We sat on the bar stools in silence as Mom opened a tub of cookies for us to nibble on.

Ten minutes later, the game went to half-time. We could hear Dad shift in his chair and he tried to press the recline button. Nothing happened. He frowned and pressed it again, harder this time.

Still nothing.

“What the heck?” he grumbled, fiddling with the controls. Then, I saw it. The moment when the realization hit him.

He started pulling at the armrests, trying to get up, but his hands were stuck. His face turned from confusion to full-on panic.

“What’s wrong, Frank?” Mom asked, strolling into the living room.

“The darn chair is broken!” he complained.

“Oh, really? Maybe because you overuse it. But wasn’t it fine before you locked me in the basement?” Mom asked.

My father’s eyes widened.

“You didn’t… Wait! How did you get out?” he asked.

“Annie,” Mom said simply.

I stepped out from my spot in the kitchen, where I had been recording their conversation.

“Smile for the camera, Dad,” I said. “This is going in the family group chat!”

“You wouldn’t dare, Annie!” he barked at me, tugging helplessly at his stuck hands.

“Oh, but I would,” I said.
I pressed send, and the replies started rolling in soon. If there was one thing my father hated, it was being seen beyond his usual façade. He didn’t want people to see the real him. And this was him, an ugly person.

“I’m taking Mom home with me for the rest of the weekend,” I said. “You can figure out how to get yourself off your throne.”

Mom went upstairs to pack herself an overnight bag. I didn’t want to leave her with Dad. But I doubt he’ll be locking anyone in the basement anytime soon.

What would you have done?

I Found Out about the Birth of My Son from a Facebook Post – Is the Lesson I Taught My Wife Justified?

I Found Out about the Birth of My Son from a Facebook Post – Is the Lesson I Taught My Wife Justified?

I discovered my son’s birth through a Facebook post. What came next shattered my world and forced me to teach my wife a lesson she would never forget.

A man looking stressed | Source: Pixabay

A man looking stressed | Source: Pixabay

It’s hard to believe this is my reality. But here I am. My wife, Julia, and I had wanted kids for years. So, when she finally got pregnant last year, we were thrilled.

I wanted to be the best husband and future father I could. Her father had never been involved in her life, and my brother isn’t the most involved dad.

A couple gazing at each other | Source: Pixabay

A couple gazing at each other | Source: Pixabay

I saw too many problems up close when husbands were absent, and I was determined not to make the same mistakes. However, just a few weeks into her pregnancy, everything started going downhill.

A pregnant couple | Source: Pixabay

A pregnant couple | Source: Pixabay

Julia stopped wanting sex. “I just don’t feel like it, Mason. It’s too much right now,” she would say. I understood it was due to hormones and stress, so I respected her wishes. But then she didn’t want any physical interaction. No cuddling, no kissing. On top of that, she became increasingly distant.

A pregnant woman and her husband looking at each other in bedroom | Source: Pexels

A pregnant woman and her husband looking at each other in bedroom | Source: Pexels

Her eating habits constantly changed. One evening, Julia demanded, “Mason, I need pickles and ice cream right now.”

“Sure thing, honey,” I replied, hurrying to the store. When I returned, she snapped, “I don’t want this! I want sushi!”

“Julia, you asked for this just an hour ago,” I said, confused.

“I don’t care! Just get me sushi,” she screamed. I attributed this to hormonal issues and dealt with it.

A pregnant woman touching her belly while looking at husband | Source: Pexels

A pregnant woman touching her belly while looking at husband | Source: Pexels

She never let me go to any appointments or groups she attended. “It’s just easier if I go alone,” she insisted. “I don’t want you hovering over me.”

“But I want to be involved, Julia,” I protested.

“I said no, Mason!” she snapped. She spent more time away from home, became cold and bitter, and was constantly angry at me. This went on for months.

An angry man sitting by the table while looking at a woman | Source: Pexels

An angry man sitting by the table while looking at a woman | Source: Pexels

One night, I came home exhausted. “Julia, I made dinner,” I called out.

“I’m not eating that,” she said, eyeing the food with disdain.

“But I spent hours making it,” I said, frustrated.

“Do you ever think about what I want?” she shouted. “You never listen!” Then, she slapped me. I was stunned to the point of silence.

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

She stopped doing anything around the house about a month into the pregnancy. Sure, moving around is hard when pregnant, but she wouldn’t even help out with laundry. By the fifth week, I was doing everything. My work was also our primary source of income. I was barely sleeping, and running on fumes.

A young man in sleepwear | Source: Pexels

A young man in sleepwear | Source: Pexels

She made me sleep in the guest room and always tried to pick fights. “Why don’t you just leave if you can’t handle this?” she would taunt. I never even raised my voice.

I constantly reminded myself this wasn’t her and it would all be worth it. She didn’t want me to make any decisions regarding the baby. No name choices, no work on the nursery, nothing.

A tired man looking in mirror in the bathroom | Source: Pexels

A tired man looking in mirror in the bathroom | Source: Pexels

One month before she delivered, Julia yelled at me about how useless I was. “I’m going to stay with my mother. Don’t bother calling,” she declared. She refused to let me get her anything, threatened to divorce me, and even threatened a restraining order if I called her.

A woman shouting at a man | Source: Pexels

A woman shouting at a man | Source: Pexels

A couple of weeks ago, I found out about the birth of my son, Jason, from a Facebook post. Julia posted it with her mother and some family. It broke me. When I tried to visit them at the hospital, security kicked me out.

A smartphone showing a Facebook application | Source: Pexels

A smartphone showing a Facebook application | Source: Pexels

After finding out about Jason’s birth, I started doubting if Jason was mine. I wanted a paternity test, but Julia didn’t answer my calls. I was heartbroken. Two weeks later, Julia’s brother picked up the phone.

A man on a phone call | Source: Pexels

A man on a phone call | Source: Pexels

“Mason, you need to know the truth,” he said. “Julia had an affair with a coworker. She believed the baby was his.”

I was stunned. “What? How could she do this to me?”

“She didn’t know how to tell you. Her coworker promised to be with her, but he left when he found out the baby wasn’t his,” her brother explained. “I thought you should know.”

A pensive man talking on the phone while on the street | Source: Pexels

A pensive man talking on the phone while on the street | Source: Pexels

When I found out about Julia’s betrayal, I was furious. With the help of my lawyer, I demanded a paternity test. When it was confirmed that I was indeed the father, I was finally able to hold my son for the first time when he was almost a month old.

A newborn baby held by a happy father | Source: Pexels

A newborn baby held by a happy father | Source: Pexels

I then taught Julia a lesson. We had a prenup, and I owned our marital home. I filed for divorce and was confident that I would win. I also contacted Julia’s job and revealed her relationship with the coworker. Her company had strict rules and fired both Julia and the coworker.

A man and a woman discussing at their workplace | Source: Pexels

A man and a woman discussing at their workplace | Source: Pexels

I filed for full custody of Jason, claiming Julia wasn’t stable enough to provide for him. Julia begged me to forgive her, but I didn’t. She had no option left but to move in with her mother.

Julia’s life changed drastically after moving in with her mother. The relationship between Julia and her mother became strained. “How could you let this happen, Julia?” her mother would often ask, frustration clear in her voice.

Two women arguing | Source: Pexels

Two women arguing | Source: Pexels

“I made a mistake, Mom. I didn’t know it would turn out like this,” Julia would reply, her eyes welling up with tears.

Her mother sighed, “Losing your job was one thing, but your actions have consequences. Look at where we are now.”

Two women arguing | Source: Pexels

Two women arguing | Source: Pexels

Julia struggled with the reality of her situation. Every day was a reminder of her fall from grace. Without a job, she had no financial independence.

Her mother’s constant lectures didn’t help. “I can’t believe you jeopardized everything for a fling,” her mother said one evening, shaking her head in disbelief.

An unrecognizable woman having argument with an upset female | Source: Pexels

An unrecognizable woman having argument with an upset female | Source: Pexels

“Mom, I’m trying to make things right,” Julia insisted.

“Trying isn’t enough, Julia. You need to face the reality that you’ve hurt a lot of people,” her mother retorted.

Their conversations were filled with tension and regret. Julia felt trapped and isolated. Her mother’s disappointment weighed heavily on her, making her realize the full impact of her decisions. Every day, she faced the reality of her actions and the life she had lost.

A woman covering her face with her head down | Source: Pexels

A woman covering her face with her head down | Source: Pexels

After hearing me out in court and learning my story, the judge granted me full custody, especially since Julia didn’t protest. I decided to move on with my life and become the best father I could be. I allowed Julia to see Jason according to the court arrangements.

Was I justified in the lesson I taught my ex-wife?

A man in sitting on a bench near trees | Source: Pexels

A man in sitting on a bench near trees | Source: Pexels

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