Carol, her husband, Rob, and their son Jamie have a Saturday routine of errands and treats. As the day unfolds, everything turns out exactly as Carol planned for it. Until they get to a fabric store, where Carol looks for material to make Jamie’s Halloween costume, only to uncover secrets that she didn’t know lay in the foundation of her family. She is left trying to pick up the threads of grief that she didn’t know she had.
The day began like any other Saturday morning — errands and grocery shopping with my husband, Rob, and our six-year-old son, Jamie. But I didn’t know that by the end, everything I understood about my life would be questioned.
A smiling little boy sitting on a stool | Source: Pexels
“Mom,” Jamie called from the backseat while we were at the car wash. “Can I get some ice cream?”
“If you’re a good boy in the grocery store, then yes, we can get some ice cream on the way home,” my husband said.
Jamie’s face lit up and he beamed at his father.
“Are you sure about your costume for Halloween?” I asked him.
A car going through a car wash | Source: Pexels
Halloween was a few weeks away and I was going to make his costume by hand, as I had always done. But this time around, Jamie had changed his mind many times before deciding on which costume he wanted.
We had discussed him being a wizard, a tree, a spider, the ocean, and finally, he seemed to like the idea of being a ghost.
A child wearing a costume | Source: Pexels
“It’s cool, Mom,” he told me while I poured milk into his cereal one morning. “Like, I’d be a friendly ghost. Not a scary one.”
Up until this morning, my son seemed fine with being a ghost.
I just hoped that when we got to the fabric store, he would keep that in mind.
“Yes,” he said. “A ghost. Should I be called Casper?”
Rob chuckled beside me.
Children in ghost costumes | Source: Pexels
“Sure,” I said, laughing at my child.
After the car wash, we went grocery shopping with Jamie on his best behavior. I knew him — if he had been promised ice cream, he wouldn’t stop until he got it.
We walked up and down the aisles, Rob adding items to our cart as he spoke about meals he wanted me to cook.
A woman at a grocery store | Source: Pexels
“Grilled fish tonight, Carol,” he said. “That’s the way to go.”
Everything had gone along perfectly, especially Jamie who hummed to himself the entire time.
“One more stop, buddy,” I said to him. “And then it’s time for ice cream.”
Grilled fish on a plate | Source: Pexels
We got to the fabric store and I wandered through the aisles, trying to decide on the best material for my son’s ghost costume.
Rob was nervously checking his phone, texting someone every few minutes. I chalked it up to the baseball game later that day — my husband had many flaws, and gambling on sports was one of them.
A man using his phone | Source: Unsplash
I picked up my phone, ready to check the measurements that I had noted down when I saw a saleswoman walking toward us.
Rob looked at her and turned pale — which was strange in itself. But then it got even stranger.
My son, seeing the woman at the end of our row of fabric, suddenly sprinted off toward her, his little legs carrying him faster than I’d have thought possible. He stopped in front of the woman, staring up at her with wide innocent eyes.
Different types of fabric | Source: Unsplash
“Are you my mommy?” he asked earnestly.
The saleswoman’s face went pale, her eyes darting around, finally landing on a similarly shocked Rob.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”
The woman looked from Rob to me, to Jamie.
A shocked woman standing against a wall | Source: Pexels
“Come on,” Rob said, picking Jamie up.
We took Jamie to an ice cream shop, we had promised him after all.
The entire time we sat there, Rob refused to meet my eye.
My mind raced. I couldn’t understand what had happened. There was no way that Jamie would just run up to a stranger and ask a question of that nature. He knew something. Jamie had to have overheard or seen something. There was no other explanation for it.
An ice cream shop | Source: Pexels
Later that evening, after I tucked Jamie into bed and settled down for story time, I knew I had to clear my conscience. I needed him to tell me the truth.
“Sweetie, why did you ask that woman if she was your mommy?” I asked gently.
“I heard Dad say that on the phone, and her picture was there, too,” he replied simply.
“Dad said that the woman is your mommy?” I pressed, my voice barely a whisper.
A little boy lying in bed | Source: Unsplash
I didn’t have a lot of time. Rob would come in to kiss Jamie goodnight soon.
My son nodded earnestly, his eyebrows raised — his own telltale sign of the truth.
I went to my bedroom and lay across the bed, trying to understand.
A woman lying across the bed hiding her face | Souce: Unsplash
I waited for the weekend to pass, and on Monday after I dropped Jamie off at school, I went back to the store. Alone, this time. I had questions and they needed answers.
As I stepped into the store, I saw the woman restocking buttons in a little container.
“Are you having an affair with my husband?” I blurted out, my voice tense.
An aerial view of different buttons | Source: Unsplash
“What? No! Of course not!” she exclaimed, her reaction seeming genuine.
“My son asked if you were his mother on Saturday, when we were in the store,” I added, trying to piece together the fragments of our crumbling reality.
The same alarmed look crossed her face again. She glanced around hastily before grabbing my hand and leading me away.
“Not here,” she said. “Come.”
A person holding out their hand | Source: Unsplash
She pulled me into a storage room, her eyes scanning my face for signs of understanding.
“I’m not sure what’s going on,” she said. “My name is Kaylee. And I don’t know how this all happened. Or even how your son found out.”
“Found out what?” I demanded, the urgency in my voice even frightened me.
Kaylee flinched at my tone.
A storage room | Source: Pexels
“Maybe I’m not the one who should be telling you this. Please, ask your husband,” she said, already turning away from me.
I went back home and tried to think of all the possibilities that could link Rob to Kaylee. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, except the fact that my husband may have been cheating on me.
I tried to sit down in my study and work, but tears kept streaming down my face as I tried to make sense of it all.
A person using a laptop | Source: Unsplash
When Rob came home, he had a pizza in hand and was ready to sit down with Jamie and talk about their respective days.
I let everything slide until my son was sound in bed.
“Rob,” I began, sitting on the couch. “We need to talk.”
My husband closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair.
A box of pizza | Source: Unsplash
I told him everything — my visit back to the fabric store and the conversation I had with Kaylee.
“What does it all mean, Rob?” I asked. “I need you to tell me everything. It’s one thing if you’re doing something that I don’t know about. But it’s another thing when Jamie knows something that I don’t.”
“What are you saying?” he asked.
“Tell me the truth. What does Kaylee have to do with our family?” I asked.
A man sitting on couch and holding his head | Source: Unsplash
“Carol, I hoped that you would never have to know this,” he said slowly. “But do you remember the night you went into labor?”
Of course, I remembered. It had been the most difficult and traumatic night of my life. I just remember my water breaking, and then my blood pressure dropping rapidly. Everything happened so quickly, that the doctors asked Rob to choose whether he would save me or the life of our baby.
Afterward, when I held our baby in my arms, Rob told me he chose my life. But it turns out he didn’t need to because there we both were.
A woman in labor in hospital | Source: Unsplash
Or so I thought.
I didn’t know that as I sat in the living room that night, my entire world was about to change.
“When you were taken in,” Rob said. “I chose you, I told the doctors to save you first. I wasn’t proud of it, but I knew that I couldn’t do this without you.”
I nodded, I knew this — Rob had told me this many times before. Usually on Jamie’s birthday.
A little boy’s birthday | Source: Unsplash
“What I didn’t tell you is that the doctors did save you, darling. Our baby didn’t make it. He didn’t get enough oxygen and well…”
Rob’s voice trailed off into silence. The only sound that could be heard was the clock in the living room.
“What? Then Jamie?” I asked.
“Jamie was born that night, too,” my husband said. “But he was up for adoption because Kaylee couldn’t do it by herself. So, when I was signing the paperwork about our son, I overheard the story. A nurse pointed me in the right direction and I went to see Kaylee. And there he was.”
A man holding a newborn baby | Source: Unsplash
I was speechless. I couldn’t look at Rob.
“I shared our story with Kaylee, and she signed the papers over to me immediately. Jamie became ours that night.”
The room spun around me as I absorbed the shock. My son — the light of my life — was mine in every way except biologically. The foundation of my world had not just shifted, it had been demolished entirely.
That night, I took a sleeping pill and went to bed. I didn’t have the capacity for it all.
A woman asleep in bed | Source: Unsplash
The next morning, as I made French toast for Jamie before school, I looked at his features and realized that there wasn’t any physical resemblance to Rob or myself. It didn’t make a difference, because he was still my son.
But I knew that something had changed — I loved Jamie even more because he had been placed in my arms where grief would have sat otherwise.
After grappling with the news, I sought therapy to process the grief for the son I never got to know. And the deception that I lived through. I loved Rob for doing what he did — giving me a son.
French toast and blueberries | Source: Unsplash
But I was still devastated by the fact that he had kept the truth from me for six years.
I need some time to gather my thoughts and feelings, but I do know that I need to visit the fabric store again. Not just for Jamie’s costume, but to get to know Kaylee and any medical history we may need to know.
A woman holding her head | Source: Unsplash
I still need to know why Rob went looking for Kaylee in the first place, or if she went looking for us. But all in good time.
Now, I just need to process my grief and enjoy my son.
A close up of a mother and son | Source: Pexels
What would you have done?
My MIL Gave Homemade Dolls to My Daughter – I Forbade Her from Coming near Us after I Found Out the Truth about Them
When Katie discovers that her mother-in-law has been making strange dolls for her daughter, she confronts the old woman, only to discover that she has been holding onto grief for her entire life. But what does that mean for the mysterious dolls? And the little girl who plays with them?
My grandmother died when I was very young, but I always associated love and care with her. So, I always knew that when I had children, I wanted them to know the love of a grandmother. When my daughter, Lila, was born, that was exactly what I wanted.
A grandmother and granddaughter | Source: Pexels
My mother lives a few hours away from us, so she and Lila have more of a virtual relationship.
But the silver lining is my mother-in-law, Susan. She only lives a few streets over, and she loves spending time with Lila.
Since Lila was born, Susan has played the doting grandmother that I wanted for my child. She came over and played with Lila, making her snacks and teaching her little things in the kitchen.
An elderly woman with her granddaughter | Source: Pexels
Recently, my mother-in-law and Lila have taken to creative hobbies—often painting away or making beaded bracelets.
“Gran makes such great things, Mom!” Lila told me one afternoon as I was making her a sandwich.
“Gran is really good with her hands,” I said. “She can do all sorts of things!”
Now, Susan has been obsessed with wanting to make handmade dolls for Lila.
“I just think that there’s something so special about homemade toys,” she told me when we went grocery shopping together. “I have lots of fabric ready.”
Colored fabric | Source: Pexels
A few weeks ago, when we were having family dinner, Susan gifted Lila a gift box.
“I’ve made you something, darling,” she said.
Lila opened the box with wide eyes, and there it was—the first of the handmade dolls.
But that’s when things started to get weird!
The other day, when Susan dropped Lila off at home, my daughter ran into the dining room where I was working on my laptop.
“Mom!” she exclaimed, her eyes alight with the wonder of a new treasure.
“What happened?” I asked her, delighted to see the joy in my child.
“Gran made these for me!” she said.
An excited little girl | Source: Pexels
Lila placed three beautifully crafted dolls on the table next to me. I had to admit, they were stunning.
“This is lovely!” I exclaimed. “Gran really is good, huh?”
“These dolls have names,” Lila said, following me into the kitchen so that I could begin dinner.
“Introduce them to me!” I said.
My daughter put the dolls on the counter and touched their heads as she called out their names.
“This is Judy, and Vivi, and Kara,” she said.
“Those are some pretty interesting names,” I said. “Where did you get them from?”
Dolls on a wall | Source: Pexels
“I didn’t pick them,” she said innocently. “Gran did. I’m taking them to my room to have a tea party now.”
With that, Lila bounced away.
Curiosity piqued and unease began to settle in. I knew those names. They were three sisters who were a part of the dark history of the family—my mother-in-law had three younger siblings who all passed away when they were toddlers.
“They were just really sickly children,” my husband, Justin, told me once.
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.
During Our Flight Woman Constantly Insulted the Aircraft Personnel and Passengers – She Ran Out of Plane in Tears
A mean stranger on a flight had everyone on edge, from her fellow passengers to the flight attendants! She kept ruffling feathers, mistreating people, and taking liberties as she wished! However, little did she know that she was going to leave the plane in tears!
An upset woman wearing headset while screaming on a flight | Source: Freepik
Hi all, Miranda here. I have a story to share with you about a stranger who misbehaved on a flight thinking she could get away with it. But me and my fellow passengers put her in her place!
See, I’ve been traveling quite a lot lately, but my most recent flight has to have been the craziest! I generally tend to book rows six or seven when I can because they aren’t too expensive. The other thing I like about the rows is that they’re close enough to the front to make them convenient.
A woman on a phone seated next to a man on a plane | Source: Freepik
Today, while walking through the congested aisles of the plane, I settled into what I believed was my assigned seat, 7D. On my way out, I was in 7F, and in my mind, I believed 7D was my return seat.
Mistakes happen, especially when you’re a frequent flyer like me who can’t seem to keep track of seat assignments. It was a minor hiccup — or so I thought until she arrived.
An annoyed-looking woman holding luggage | Source: Freepik
As the woman approached to claim my row, she believed she had the aisle seat. Without noticing that I was in the wrong row, I told her, “No, that’s my seat,” and politely stood up to let her in.
However, I eventually realized when the row became congested that I had misread my ticket. But the correction was met with unexpected vehemence.
“YOU ARE THAT STUPID THAT YOU CHOSE the wrong seat!” she screamed, her face contorted with irritation.
I scrambled to retrieve my bag, attempting to calm the brewing storm. But my sincere apologies fell on deaf ears. “People like YOU should not be allowed on flights!” she ranted.
A woman holding a phone while seated on a plane | Source: Pexels
Not wanting to worsen the situation, I said nothing as I scurried to my correct row. Little did I know that her bad behavior was about to get worse!
Her temper was a fuse, lit and unstoppable! Within less than ten minutes of peace, after we ascended, her barrage began. She yelled at a flight attendant, “This meal is atrocious! How dare you serve this?” over food SHE CHOSE HERSELF before hurling the plastic tray like a frisbee!
It wasn’t just the objects she threw; words, sharp and cutting, followed each action. Each utterance and behavior was more shocking than the last! No one was safe as she attacked, dissed, and threw tantrums at flight attendants and other passengers alike!
A plate of food on a flight | Source: Unsplash
A nearby passenger tried to intervene, “Hey, calm down, lady. There’s no need to treat people like that,” only to receive a splash of water and a tirade. “You think you can ignore ME? I’ll show you what happens!” she shrieked, punctuating her rage with kicks to his seat.
Literally, everyone on the flight hated this woman’s guts!
The cabin was aghast, whispers swirling like a storm. “Can you believe her?” “Somebody should do something!” The tension was palpable, a collective breath held in anticipation of her next outburst.
A flight attendant walking on a plane | Source: Pexels
As the flight drew on, the guy in front of me, the one who got soaked, passed me a note. He’d quietly hatched a plan and was trying to get the other passengers on board. My face lit up with a smirk as I read the note that said:
“Read and pass it on when she gets up to go to the exit, upon landing we’ll get up and see her off shouting…”
The rest of the note instructed us to shout, “Passenger 7D, you are unbearable. Learn to behave, not like a Neanderthal!” I won’t lie, I giggled a bit as I read the note!
A woman reading a note | Source: Pexels
At that moment, I knew the rude woman wasn’t going to get away with her messy ways as I passed the note on! Words and notes between the rest of the passengers passed along in hurried whispers.
We were united by circumstance, an impromptu alliance formed at 30,000 feet! The excitement among us was so palpable. I wondered, “Does this woman notice that something’s happening around her?”
But she remained oblivious, too focused on being mean to see the obvious.
Flight attendants dealing with passengers | Source: Unsplash
Our conspiratorial spirits lifted as the wheels touched down! The woman quickly stood, presumably to make a swift exit without being deterred by the rest of us. But just before leaving someone got up in front of her, obstructing her way.
This stopped us from our plan as she was now amid another hysteria. Suddenly, an unexpected hero turned up to save us all! The main pilot had made his way towards her and unknown to her, he was standing right behind her.
An upset woman standing with her luggage | Source: Freepik
Speaking loudly to get her immediate attention, he says, “I apologize for all the inconvenience you’ve suffered on this flight.” Thinking she was going to get away with all the abuse she’d exposed us to, some of us wanted to speak up.
But the pilot held his hand up. A smile flashed across the woman’s face for a moment. “For the inconvenience, you will be given a discount on your next flight with our airlines.” At this moment the hysterical woman speaks, saying:
“Yes, and I also want to be transferred to business class and get my money back for this flight.”
A rude woman pointing at someone | Source: Freepik
But the next moment she turns pale when he says “Woman, did you think I was addressing you? Noooo, I was talking to other passengers.” Facing her directly he added, “But something else awaits you.”
He continued, “Upon arrival, airport security is already waiting for you. Someone told them that you managed to bring dangerous objects onto the plane.” The shock on her face mimicked the expressions we all had!
A shocked woman | Source: Getty Images
“And if you don’t apologize RIGHT NOW, I will make sure that you are blacklisted as a passenger and you will no longer be able to fly!” he insisted to our delight!
Looking back at the people she was sitting with on the plane, including the flight attendants, it was obvious she was torn. Her face, once twisted in anger, crumpled under the weight of the reprimand.
A pilot standing in front of a flight attendant | Source: Freepik
At that moment, it became clear that she was human like the rest of us and could feel pain as well!
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she said softly, “I am sorry for how I behaved during the flight and I promise to do better in future.” Looking up at the pilot, he flicked his head in the direction of the exit, as to say, “Apology sufficient, you may leave.”
The woman rushed towards the exit. Each step hastened until she was running out!
A woman’s mascara running as she cries | Source: Getty Images
As silence fell and we collected ourselves, there was a surreal moment of reflection. The ordeal had transformed us, passengers bound by an unwelcome drama into a united group determined to get revenge.
We exchanged looks of disbelief and relief; the shared adversity had morphed into an unlikely bond. The collective was finally free from our tormentor! Seeing the glee on the faces of the flight attendants and the other passengers the woman had harassed, we couldn’t help but give a collective shout!
People clapped their hands at our victory, and it felt like justice was served that day!
A pilot shaking hands with a passenger | Source: Pexels
As we got off the plane, each person either shook the pilot’s hand or gave him a warm hug!
Waiting for my baggage I realized that the flight exemplified the highs and lows of human nature. It was a reminder of the thin line between order and chaos. In the crowded confines of a plane, we navigated more than just the skies by traversing the complex landscape of societal norms.
I felt proud to be a human being that day, and what started as a bad flight, ended off on a high note (pun intended)!
A happy woman seated at the airport | Source: Pexels
Well, that nasty woman seems to have gotten exactly what she deserves! In the following story, another rude woman gets put in her place when she tries bullying a young boy on the subway. Read on for all the delicious drama and the link to the story has more thrilling tales inside!
Sassy Mom Picks on Teen in Subway – The Boy’s Mother Put the Stranger in Her Place!
Let’s dive into the drama that unfolded one unusually warm spring afternoon. So, Sabrina was just chilling on her daily subway commute, navigating the sweet spot of crowdedness—enough people to feel the city vibe, but still some breathing room.
A woman sitting on the subway | Source: Pexels
Now, picture this: At the back of the subway car, there’s this kid, around 11 or 12, totally zoned out into his phone. He’s sitting in one of those priority seats meant for the elderly or those with disabilities.
Enter stage right, a woman bursts through the subway doors, towing a little kid in tow, and spots the boy in the seat. Her glare could’ve melted steel, but the boy? Oblivious, still glued to his screen.
A woman holding a child about to board the subway | Source: Pexels
Cue the confrontation. The woman strides up, launching into a tirade about the boy taking up a reserved seat when he seems perfectly fit. The subway audience is all ears, almost siding with her, until—plot twist—the boy’s mom steps in.
Calm yet fierce, she hints at an impending regret for the accuser. The boy then reveals his prosthetic limb, silencing the car in one swift motion. The angry woman, now embarrassed, beats a hasty retreat at the next stop.
A boy using his phone while seated | Source: Pexels
This unexpected subway saga leaves everyone, including Sabrina, musing on how quick we are to judge without knowing the full story. It’s a reminder that behind every scene in the bustling backdrop of city life, there’s often more than meets the eye. How’s that for a slice of daily drama?
An embarrassed woman on the subway | Source: Freepik
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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