My Daughter Started Sleepwalking, I Followed Her One Night and Was Shocked by What I Saw—Story of the Day

My mother-in-law Cynthia moved in, and soon after, my daughter Lisa began acting oddly. She was no longer her cheerful self, and it worried me deeply. One night, I saw her sleepwalking through the house, clutching her teddy bear. I quietly followed her, and what I discovered that night shocked me, leading to a bigger mystery I needed to solve.

We were a happy family, living together in peace. Our days were filled with laughter, playful moments with our daughter, Lisa, and cozy family dinners.

Tony worked as a financial analyst, always dreaming of starting his own business, while I balanced my career and took care of our home.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

One evening, Tony came home with exciting news.

“Amelie, I found partners, and I can finally start my own business, just like I’ve always dreamed!” he announced, grinning from ear to ear.

“That’s amazing, Tony!” I hugged him, feeling proud. “You’ve worked so hard for this.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” he said, looking a bit hesitant.

“With our new jobs, we’ll be even busier. Mom has been complaining about her health and suggested moving in with us. She wants to help with taking care of Lisa.”

I frowned.

“Tony, you know how Cynthia feels about our marriage. She never really accepted me.”

“I know, but she insisted,” Tony replied. “And we really could use the help right now.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I sighed, unsure.

“Alright, but only because we need the help. And of course, she wants to move in now that things are looking up for us.”

***

A few days later, Cynthia moved in. She entered the house with a big smile, her hands held in front of her, carrying a gift for Lisa.

“Hello, Lisa! Look what Grandma brought you,” she said, handing Lisa a fluffy teddy bear.

“Thank you, Grandma!” Lisa hugged the bear tightly, her eyes sparkling with joy.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Tony looked at me, hoping I would make an effort. “Thanks, Cynthia. I’m sure Lisa will love it,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Amelie, I know we’ve had our differences,” Cynthia began. “But I want to make this work for Tony and Lisa.”

“I hope so,” I replied cautiously.

***

Days turned into weeks, and I noticed changes in Lisa. She became cranky and sleepy during the day. She wasn’t her usual cheerful self, and it worried me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Lisa, honey, why are you so tired?” I asked one afternoon as she rubbed her eyes.

“I don’t know, Mommy. I just feel sleepy,” she replied, yawning.

That night, as I checked on her, I saw her walking around. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be in a daze.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Lisa, sweetie, what are you doing?” I whispered, gently taking her by the hand.

She didn’t respond, just continued clutching the teddy bear. I carefully guided her back to bed and tucked her in, feeling a knot of worry in my stomach.

The next morning, over breakfast, I decided to bring it up with Tony.

“Tony, I saw Lisa sleepwalking last night,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “She was wandering around with that teddy bear your mom gave her.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Tony looked surprised. “Really? That’s strange.”

Before he could say more, Cynthia, walking nearby, chimed in.

“Oh, that’s perfectly normal. Tony used to sleepwalk as a child too. There’s nothing to worry about,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Are you sure?” I asked, looking at her thoughtfully.

“Absolutely. It’s just a phase,” Cynthia insisted, her tone final.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I nodded, but the worry didn’t leave me. Later that morning, as Tony was getting ready for work, he suddenly frowned and checked his wallet.

“Amelie, have you seen some money I left in my wallet? It’s missing,” he said, looking puzzled.

“No, I haven’t touched your wallet,” I replied honestly.

Tony sighed. “Maybe I misplaced it. It’s probably just somewhere around.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I decided to get my purse to give my husband some money. But I was surprised to find a much larger sum than I had yesterday.

“Tony, look at this. Is this the amount you were missing?” I said, showing him the money.

Tony peered into the purse and nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly how I tied and stored the amount in my wallet yesterday. That’s strange. Maybe you took it by mistake?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m sure I didn’t. It’s really odd.”

How did it get there?

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Tony shrugged, trying to brush it off. “Let’s not worry about it.”

But I couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling. Something was definitely wrong, and I needed to figure out what was happening. That night, I couldn’t sleep, thinking about Lisa and the strange occurrences.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

***

The next few days, I kept a closer eye on Lisa. She was still cranky and tired during the day, and I noticed she clung to the teddy bear more than usual.

I decided to follow her if she sleepwalked again, to see if I could find any answers.

That night, it happened again. I saw Lisa get up from her bed, holding the teddy bear tightly in her arms. This time, her eyes were wide open, but she didn’t seem to notice me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

She walked out of her room and down the hallway. I quietly followed her, making sure not to wake her. My heart pounded as I watched her small figure move through the dimly lit house.

This time, she went straight to Cynthia’s room. I paused outside the door, straining to hear. I heard Cynthia’s voice, low and insistent.

“Go to your parents’ room… Take the money from the safe, Lisa. Remember, it’s our little secret.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

My blood ran cold. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I stood frozen for a moment, then hurried back to my room to wake Tony.

“Tony, wake up! You have to see this,” I whispered urgently, shaking him awake.

Tony groggily opened his eyes. “What’s going on, Amelie?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“It’s Lisa. She’s in your mom’s room. I heard Cynthia giving her instructions to take money from the safe,” I said, my voice trembling.

Tony sat up, looking frustrated. “Amelie, you’re overreacting. Mom wouldn’t do that.”

“Please, Tony, just come and see,” I begged.

Reluctantly, he got out of bed and followed me to Cynthia’s room. We quietly opened the door and saw both Cynthia and Lisa seemingly asleep. Tony sighed in exasperation.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“See, they’re both asleep. You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” he said, rubbing his temples.

“No, Tony, I know what I heard,” I insisted.

Frustrated, Tony stomped over to the safe.

“I’ll prove to you that this is all a misunderstanding. The money should be right here. I was going to invest it in my project tomorrow.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Then Tony’s face went pale.

“What? No, this has to be a joke. The money was here this morning!” he shouted, his voice filled with anger.

“Tony, it’s not a joke. Your mother is responsible for this,” I said firmly.

The commotion woke everyone up. Cynthia came into the room, looking defensive.

“What’s all this noise about?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Tony turned to her, fury in his eyes. “Mom, did you ask Lisa to steal money from the safe?”

Cynthia’s eyes widened, and she started to deny it. “Of course not! How could you even think that?”

Just then, Lisa started to cry, scared and confused by the shouting. I knelt down and gently took her hand.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Lisa, sweetie, can you tell us what happened? It’s important.”

Lisa sniffled and nodded. She walked over to my purse and pointed.

Tony looked inside my purse and found the missing money. His face contorted with rage and disbelief.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Amelie, how could you? Were you trying to frame my mother?”

“No, Tony! I didn’t know the money was there! It was your mother’s doing!” I protested.

But Tony was too angry to listen.

“This is too much. I can’t deal with this right now. Amelie, I think it’s best if you stay somewhere else for a while. Mom will watch over Lisa.”

“Tony, please, you have to believe me. I’m not the one at fault here!” I pleaded, tears streaming down my face.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Cynthia stood behind Tony, a look of satisfaction hidden in her eyes.

“It’s for the best, Amelie. We need some time to sort this out.”

My heart was breaking, but I knew I had to find a way to prove the truth and protect my family.

***

In the morning, Tony left for work while I started packing my things. My heart was heavy with sadness and frustration.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

As I gathered my belongings, I went into Lisa’s room and noticed her sitting on the bed, talking to the teddy bear.

“Lisa, sweetie, who are you talking to?” I asked gently, trying not to startle her.

She looked up at me with big, innocent eyes.

“The teddy bear, Mommy. But it doesn’t want to talk anymore.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I frowned, feeling a knot of worry. “What do you mean, it doesn’t want to talk anymore?”

Lisa hugged the bear tightly.

“It used to talk to me before bedtime. Grandma said it was our little secret.”

My heart sank. This was worse than I had imagined.

“Lisa, can I borrow the teddy bear for a bit? I need to wash it,” I said, trying to sound casual.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

She hesitated, then answered, “Okay, Mommy. Just be careful with him.”

I didn’t leave the house. I was waiting for the evening to put everything in its place. I had a hunch about what was happening and who was behind it all.

***

That evening, while preparing dinner, Cynthia entered the kitchen. She stood there with her arms crossed, looking smug.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Why haven’t you left yet, Amelie? Tony doesn’t want a thief in his house.”

I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I have some unfinished business, Cynthia. Everything will be resolved when Tony returns.”

Cynthia’s eyes narrowed. “What are you planning?”

“You’ll see,” I replied, turning back to the stove.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

When Tony came home, I was ready.

“Tony, I need to show you something,” I said, holding the teddy bear.

He looked weary. “What is it now, Amelie?”

“Please, just trust me,” I urged.

I brought out the teddy bear and carefully opened it, revealing a small talking device inside.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Tony, Lisa wasn’t sleepwalking. She was being manipulated by this device. Cynthia has been using it to give her instructions.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Cynthia shouted, her face turning red. “You’re making this up!”

“Let’s check Cynthia’s room for the other half of the device,” I suggested, keeping my voice steady.

Cynthia backed away, her eyes wide with fear. “No, you can’t go in there!”

Tony, now suspicious, insisted, “Mom, we need to see.”

For illustration purposes only | Source:Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source:Pexels

I pressed the button on the bear’s device and spoke into it. At that moment, we heard my voice echoing from Cynthia’s room.

Tony rushed in and found the other device hidden under Cynthia’s pillow.

Lisa, hearing the commotion, peeked into the room. “Grandma, are we playing a new game since our secret is out?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Tony looked puzzled. “Mom, how did you use the bear to control her?”

Cynthia sighed, wiping her tears. “I put a walkie-talkie inside the teddy bear and another one under my pillow. When Lisa would start sleepwalking, I would whisper instructions to her through the bear. I would tell her to come to my room, and we would play a game. She would take money from your wallet and put it in her mom’s purse, and then back again.”

“Mom, why? Why would you do this?” Tony exclaimed.

In tears, Cynthia finally broke down.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“At first, it was just to see if it would work. Then it became a way for me to feel in control, to have a role in the family. I didn’t realize how much it would hurt everyone.”

Tony, filled with anger and disappointment, shook his head.

“Mom, this is wrong. You can’t use Lisa like that. If you want to be part of this family, you have to stop these manipulations and respect our lives.”

Realizing her mistakes, Cynthia nodded, her face wet with tears.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Cynthia said, her voice trembling with emotion.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“I just wanted to feel needed. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll only visit on weekends and spend time with Lisa occasionally.”

Tony looked at me. “Amelie, what do you think?” he asked softly.

I took a deep breath, trying to hold back my tears.

“Cynthia, we all make mistakes. But if you truly want to be part of this family, you need to accept us and respect our boundaries. I think it would be good for Lisa to spend time with her grandmother.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Cynthia nodded, wiping her tears.

“I understand. I’ll respect your family’s peace and unity.”

I smiled faintly, looking at my sleepy daughter and feeling a glimmer of hope.

“Let’s take it one step at a time and work together to create a loving environment for Lisa.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Cynthia reached out and took my hand.

“Thank you, Amelie. I promise I’ll make it right.”

The truth was finally out, and now we could begin the process of rebuilding our trust and unity. It wouldn’t be easy, but with love and understanding, we could overcome this challenge together.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

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: Six-year-old Ethan had recently lost his mother, leaving a deep void in his heart. In his grief, he started writing letters to her, pouring out his feelings on paper. One day, while wandering the streets, he stumbled upon an old, rusty mailbox at an abandoned house. He decided to slip one of his letters inside, never expecting anyone to see it. To his astonishment, the very next day, he found a mysterious reply waiting for him.

My Husband Gifted Me a Christmas Present That Outraged Me – Next Year, I Plotted a Revenge

Some gifts warm the heart. My husband’s Christmas present? It ignited a fire of rage. I spent the next year plotting the perfect revenge, and when he unwrapped his gift, the look on his face was my real Christmas present.

Have you ever received a gift that made your stomach drop and your blood boil at the same time? I’m not talking about an ugly sweater or a fruit cake nobody wants. I mean the kind of present that makes you question if the person who gave it to you knows you at all. Or worse, if they even care. What my husband Murphy did one Christmas had me planning revenge for an entire year.

Presents under a Christmas tree | Source: Unsplash

Presents under a Christmas tree | Source: Unsplash

Money was always tight in our household.

Murphy worked at the metal fabrication plant downtown, pulling double shifts that left his hands calloused and his back aching. He’d come home smelling of metal shavings and machine oil, proud of providing for our family but too tired to notice anything else.

Meanwhile, I cobbled together an income tutoring kids in math and watching the neighbors’ children, which wasn’t much but helped keep food on the table and the lights on. Between mortgage payments and growing teenagers, we pinched every penny until it screamed.

A woman putting a coin in a piggy bank | Source: Pexels

A woman putting a coin in a piggy bank | Source: Pexels

We had a mutual agreement about Christmas: we’d scrape together enough for presents for our girls and our parents, but nothing for each other. It worked for 16 years of our marriage until Murphy decided to change the rules without warning me first.

“Susan! Come here, I got something for you!” Murphy’s voice boomed through our small house one evening, ten days before Christmas.

The excitement in his voice made me drop the math worksheet I was grading for little Tommy, who still couldn’t quite grasp long division.

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

I wiped my hands on my apron and walked into the living room.

There he stood, grinning like a kid who’d just found the cookie jar, with a massive box wrapped in sparkly paper that must have cost at least $5 a roll.

“What’s this about?” I asked, my heart racing.

The box was huge, nearly reaching my waist, and wrapped with unusual care for a man who typically considered tape and newspaper to be good enough for any package.

A huge gift box near a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney

A huge gift box near a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney

“It’s your Christmas present! I know we don’t do this usually, but I wanted to do something special this year. Something big!”

“Murphy, we can’t afford—”

“Just wait till Christmas Eve, Sus! You’re gonna love it! I promise you’ve never gotten anything like this before.”

I had no idea how right he was.

A woman sitting on the couch and looking up | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on the couch and looking up | Source: Midjourney

Our daughters, Mia and Emma, peeked around the corner with their art supplies, giggling like they used to when they were little, not the teenagers they’d become.

“Dad’s been so secretive about it,” Mia whispered. “He wouldn’t even let us help wrap it!”

“He spent forever in the garage getting it ready, Mom!” Emma added, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

That should have been my first warning sign.

Two cheerful teenage girls smiling | Source: Pexels

Two cheerful teenage girls smiling | Source: Pexels

For the next ten days, that box sat under our Christmas tree, taunting me. Every time I walked past it, I’d try to guess what could be inside.

Maybe Murphy had saved up all year for something special. Maybe he’d noticed me eyeing that velvety quilt in the store window, or remembered me mentioning how much I missed having a nice television set since ours broke last spring.

Sometimes I’d catch him staring at the box with this proud little smile, like he’d solved all the world’s problems with whatever was inside.

A man looking at something | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at something | Source: Midjourney

Christmas Eve arrived with a flurry of activity. Our girls were sprawled on the floor by the tree, while Murphy’s parents settled onto our worn couch that had seen better days.

His mother, Eleanor, kept shooting me knowing looks, while his father, Frank, nursed his usual cup of coffee with a splash of whiskey.

The room smelled of cinnamon and pine, thanks to the three cookie-scented candles I’d splurged on at the dollar store. Christmas carols played softly on our old radio. And outside, the neighbors’ lighting display cast multicolored shadows through our windows as I set a tray of brownies on the table.

A woman holding a wooden tray of brownies | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a wooden tray of brownies | Source: Pexels

“Open it, Mom!” Emma squealed. “It’s the biggest present under the tree! Even bigger than the one Dad got for Grandma!”

Murphy nodded encouragingly, his work boots tapping against the carpet in an excited rhythm. “Go ahead, Sus. Show everyone what Santa brought you.”

My fingers trembled as I unwrapped the paper, trying to savor the moment. The girls leaned forward, and I lifted the lid.

My heart stopped.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

“A vacuum cleaner?” I whispered, staring at the box with its cheerful product photos showing all its “amazing features.”

“Top of the line!” Murphy beamed. “I already tested it in the garage… works like a dream! Gets all the metal shavings right up! Even does the corners!”

The girls exchanged glances before bursting into giggles. Eleanor pressed her lips together so hard they nearly disappeared, while Frank suddenly became very interested in the contents of his coffee mug, probably wishing he’d added more whiskey.

A vacuum cleaner on the floor | Source: Pexels

A vacuum cleaner on the floor | Source: Pexels

“Oh, and when you’re done with it in here,” Murphy added, still grinning like he’d just given me the crown jewels, “make sure to put it back in the garage. That’s where it’ll live most of the time. The suction on this baby is perfect for my workspace! No more metal dust anywhere!”

I fled to our bedroom, but Murphy followed, his heavy footsteps echoing behind me like thunder. I burst into tears as soon as he closed the door, the sound of Christmas carols mocking me from downstairs.

“A vacuum cleaner? Seriously? Your first Christmas gift to me in 16 years is a VACUUM CLEANER?”

A shocked woman covering her mouth | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman covering her mouth | Source: Midjourney

“What’s wrong with that? It’s practical. Do you know how much these things cost? It’s top of the line!”

“Practical? You bought yourself a garage vacuum and wrapped it up as my Christmas present! You might as well have gift-wrapped a mop and bucket!”

“Don’t be dramatic, Susan. It’s for the whole family—”

“A $5 bracelet would have meant more! Just something that showed you thought of me as your wife and NOT your MAID! Something that said ‘I love you,’ not ‘Here’s another way to clean up after everyone!’”

An angry man frowning | Source: Midjourney

An angry man frowning | Source: Midjourney

His face darkened, jaw clenching like it did when the bills came due.

“You’re acting like a spoiled princess. Remember where you came from. Your folks are farmers! Do they even know what a vacuum cleaner is?! At least I’m thinking about upgrading our home!”

“Get out!” I roared. “GET. OUT.”

“Fine,” he snapped, yanking the door open. “You’re being ridiculous. It’s a good gift! Most wives would be grateful! Because presents are something a family could use, not what you would want.”

An angry woman holding her head | Source: Pexels

An angry woman holding her head | Source: Pexels

That night, I slept on the couch, wrapped in rage and heartache. Through the thin walls, I could hear Murphy telling his parents I was being “selfish” about the whole thing.

Eleanor’s murmured response was too quiet to make out, but Frank’s grunt of disapproval came through clearly.

As I lay there in the dark, watching the neighbors’ Christmas lights dance across our ceiling, a plan began to form in my head. Revenge, they say, is a dish best served cold, or in this case, wrapped in glittery paper and waiting an entire year.

Christmas lights shining through a window curtain | Source: Unsplash

Christmas lights shining through a window curtain | Source: Unsplash

I smiled into the darkness, already calculating how much I’d need to save from my tutoring money to make it perfect.

The following Christmas, I invited every relative within driving distance. Aunts, uncles, cousins — anyone who might appreciate a good show.

Murphy grumbled about the expense until he spotted his gift under the tree. It was the biggest box of all, wrapped in paper that cost $10 a roll this time.

“What’s this?” he asked, eyes lighting up like a child’s.

“Just a little something special. You do so much for us, honey. I wanted this Christmas to be MEMORABLE!”

A huge gift box against the backdrop of a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney

A huge gift box against the backdrop of a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney

“Mom went shopping all by herself,” Mia chimed in. “She wouldn’t even tell us what it is! But she looked so happy when she came home.”

“Cost a pretty penny too,” I added, watching Murphy’s eyes grow wider.

He spent the next few days shaking the box when he thought no one was looking, like a kid trying to guess what Santa brought.

Christmas Eve arrived again. Our living room was packed with family, all eyes on Murphy as he approached his present.

Guests in a room | Source: Pexels

Guests in a room | Source: Pexels

Aunt Martha perched on the armrest of the couch, while Uncle Bill and his three kids crowded around the fireplace.

Even cousin Pete, who never came to family gatherings, had shown up after I hinted there would be some “holiday entertainment.”

“Open it, Dad!” Emma urged, her phone ready to record the moment. “The suspense is killing everyone!”

A teenage girl smiling | Source: Pexels

A teenage girl smiling | Source: Pexels

The gift wrapper fell away. Murphy’s face went from excitement to confusion to HORROR as he stared at the industrial-sized case of toilet paper in the box.

It was premium four-ply, with “extra soft comfort” plastered across the box in cheerful letters, and “perfect for home AND workshop use!” printed in bold red.

“What is this?” he sputtered, “TOILET PAPER??”

A pile of toilet paper | Source: Unsplash

A pile of toilet paper | Source: Unsplash

I stood up, channeling my best game show host voice.

“It’s premium four-ply toilet paper! Because Christmas isn’t about what we want, it’s about what the family needs. Right, honey? And this will be perfect for the bathroom AND your garage! I even got the industrial size, since you love practical gifts so much!”

Our daughters doubled over laughing. Aunt Martha choked on her eggnog. Uncle Bill slapped his knee so hard it echoed, while his kids collapsed in fits of giggles. Cousin Pete actually fell off his chair.

A young man sitting on a chair and laughing | Source: Pexels

A young man sitting on a chair and laughing | Source: Pexels

“Who gives their husband toilet paper for Christmas?” Murphy’s face turned scarlet as he looked around the room full of amused relatives.

I smiled angelically. “Who gives their wife a vacuum cleaner?”

He stormed upstairs, muttering under his breath, while the family erupted in laughter and approval. Even Eleanor gave me a subtle high-five when no one was looking.

A furious man yelling | Source: Midjourney

A furious man yelling | Source: Midjourney

“Well played, Susan,” Frank chuckled, raising his coffee mug in salute. “Well played indeed. Maybe next year he’ll think twice about ‘practical’ gifts.”

That was five years ago. Murphy hasn’t mentioned Christmas presents since, and “selfish” has mysteriously disappeared from his vocabulary.

But just in case he ever gets another bright idea about “practical” gifts, I keep a special shelf in the closet, ready for next year’s wrapping paper. Sometimes the best revenge isn’t served cold, it’s served with a bow on top, and maybe some premium four-ply toilet paper to wrap it in.

A roll of toilet paper wrapped in golden satin ribbon | Source: Midjourney

A roll of toilet paper wrapped in golden satin ribbon | 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.

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