My Son Lifted Saleswoman’s Skirt Screaming: ‘Mommy, Look! That’s Why She’s Angry’

When Madeline and Ryan decide to go shopping for a new vacuum cleaner, their four-year-old son reveals that he knows the saleswoman—a woman that he had seen in his father’s office, the tattoo on her leg a dead giveaway.

It was an ordinary Saturday morning—the kind that held a promise of simple pleasures and family time.

“Madeline,” my husband said as he poured himself some coffee, “we’ll leave after breakfast, okay?”

Coffee being poured into a cup | Source: Pexels

Coffee being poured into a cup | Source: Pexels

I nodded as I cracked eggs into a bowl, ready to make breakfast for Ryan, my husband, and Sam, our four-year-old son.

It wasn’t anything special—we were just going to go out and get fruit for the week, and replace our broken vacuum cleaner. But what I didn’t know was that beneath the surface of this ordinary outing, a story was brewing, one that would shatter my reality of life as I knew it.

A couple with a young boy | Source: Pexels

A couple with a young boy | Source: Pexels

“What’s for breakfast, Mom?” Sam asked, bouncing into the kitchen.

Later, when we were finally out of the house, I realized how grateful I was for the little life that we were living together as a family of three. I had always wanted a small family and a soft life—little outings, getting fresh fruit and vegetables from a farmer’s market, and so on.

An omelet on a plate | Source: Unsplash

An omelet on a plate | Source: Unsplash

I always thought that by marrying Ryan, I had gotten just that.

As we entered the store, Ryan veered off to examine some electronics, leaving Sam and me in the vacuum aisle. Ben held tightly onto my dress. He was always nervous when we ventured out.

A little boy with his parents and a balloon | Source: Pexels

A little boy with his parents and a balloon | Source: Pexels

I approached a saleswoman to inquire about a high-end vacuum I had spotted online.

“Don’t worry about the prices,” Ryan had said the night before when I sat at the dining room table with my laptop, looking through the latest brands and models of vacuums.

A person touching a vacuum cleaner | Source: Pexels

A person touching a vacuum cleaner | Source: Pexels

“Really?” I asked him. My husband wasn’t one to hold onto his pockets tightly, but recently he had become more liberal with spending in general.

“Yes,” he said, kissing my forehead before heading to read Sam a bedtime story. “Choose whatever you want.”

A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels

A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels

At the store, however, the saleswoman looked me up and down.

“This vacuum?” she asked, pointing to the one I was inquiring about.

“Yes,” I replied. “And does it come in any other colors?”

A woman wearing a pink shirt | Source: Pexels

A woman wearing a pink shirt | Source: Pexels

“It’s extremely expensive, you don’t look like you can afford it,” she sneered, looking me up and down with disdain again. She eyed my son, too. It was like she had seen him before, but couldn’t quite place him.

Her words stung, but before I could even muster a reply, Sam let go of my dress and darted to the woman.

A close-up of a little boy | Source: Pexels

A close-up of a little boy | Source: Pexels

Then he did something very out of character. Sam reached out to touch the saleswoman’s skirt, and slowly lifted it to a point just above her knee. There on her thigh was a large, distinctive tattoo.

“Look, Mom, look!” Sam exclaimed, pointing excitedly.

A woman revealing her tattoos | Source: Unsplash

A woman revealing her tattoos | Source: Unsplash

The saleswoman’s face turned a fierce shade of red as she scrambled to cover herself.

“How dare you!” she yelled, her voice filled with indignation.

Panicking, I grabbed my son, pulling him back.

A shocked woman with her hands up | Source: Pexels

A shocked woman with her hands up | Source: Pexels

“I’m so sorry,” I stammered, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I’m sure he was just joking!”

But Sam was insistent, his little face screwed up in confusion.

“No, Mommy!” he said. “I’m not joking, Mommy! Look at that tattoo! I know it!”

My son looked like he was on the verge of tears.

A sad little boy | Source: Unsplash

A sad little boy | Source: Unsplash

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” I asked him.

My voice trembled, dreading the answer that I somehow already knew.

For a few weeks now, I had had a sinking feeling in my stomach. I just felt that something was off with Ryan. We barely spent time together. Usually, when we put Sam to bed, it was our time. Just for us to sit together and catch up.

A couple sitting together on a couch | Source: Pexels

A couple sitting together on a couch | Source: Pexels

But recently, we haven’t done any of that. Instead, Ryan would jump at the opportunity to put Sam to bed—something that involved at least an hour of playtime and a few bedtime stories later.

So, I would end up doing laundry and dishes, and then just go to bed.

A woman doing laundry | Source: Pexels

A woman doing laundry | Source: Pexels

And Ryan’s new thing was that he was obsessed with getting a tattoo.

“I just think that I’m old enough to settle on something,” he said when I dug into a bar of chocolate.

“What are you planning on getting?” I asked him, suddenly confused by the new interest in tattoos.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “But I have options.”

A person getting a tattoo | Source: Pexels

A person getting a tattoo | Source: Pexels

“I saw her in Dad’s office. Daddy was holding her leg, and said that he was treating it. And that the tattoo was very sore,” Sam said matter-of-factly.

A cold shiver ran down my spine. Ryan wasn’t a doctor; he was a lawyer. There was no need to ‘treat’ anyone.

A man reading a document | Source: Pexels

A man reading a document | Source: Pexels

There was no innocent explanation for what Sam had described. I glanced at the saleswoman, her earlier arrogance replaced by a mask of fear.

Just then, Ryan’s voice cut through the tense air.

“Maddie,” he said. “I finally found…” he trailed off as he rounded the corner and saw the tableau before him—his wife, his son, and his mistress in a standstill of awkwardness and shame.

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

Silence enveloped us. Ryan stuttered, attempting to concoct some plausible excuse, but the truth was glaringly obvious in the panic etched across his face.

I silenced him with a raised hand.

Sam gripped onto my hand, and swung it backward and forward a few times. He eyed his father nervously.

A woman with her hand raised | Source: Pexels

A woman with her hand raised | Source: Pexels

“We’ll discuss this at home,” I said quietly, my heart breaking inside.

The saleswoman slipped away, her part in this domestic drama over for the moment.

Before heading home, Ryan took us to Sam’s favorite fast food place. I knew that he was trying to get on Sam’s good side again. I ordered some tea to calm my nerves.

“Can we eat at home?” Sam asked me, his eyes wide with emotion.

A little boy sitting with his parents | Source: Pexels

A little boy sitting with his parents | Source: Pexels

That night, after putting Sam to bed and ensuring that he was sound asleep, I confronted my husband.

The façade of our happy marriage crumbled entirely as he confessed to an affair that had started over a year ago.

The details poured out, each one a dagger in my heart. The trust we had built over years was obliterated in just a few minutes.

A shadow of a couple | Source: Pexels

A shadow of a couple | Source: Pexels

“Sasha and I were just friends,” Ryan said, putting the kettle on for me. “But then we needed to get new computers for the office. So I went to that store—and we got talking. That’s how it started.”

“And you just continued it? Did you even think about Sam and I?”

Ryan shook his head at my words.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just needed something new.”

Office computers on a table | Source: Pexels

Office computers on a table | Source: Pexels

He sat down on the couch and looked at me, as if waiting for me to lose my temper. But I was beyond it. I didn’t want to react in any other manner than calm.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that this was a fight I didn’t want to have. Ryan had been with this woman for over a year. He had chosen this woman for that long.

He had made his bed.

But the only thing that I wanted to know was why Sam had witnessed the entire interaction.

A man sitting on a couch | Source: Unsplash

A man sitting on a couch | Source: Unsplash

“Why was Sam there?” I asked him.

“It was that day that the daycare needed us to pick up the kids early and you were stuck in meetings. So, I took him to the office for a while. He was supposed to be sitting in the reception and drawing with Nick, but then he came running into my office.”

I filed for divorce soon after. The process was painful—there were tears shed, lawyers were called, and a family was broken.

A table at a daycare facility | Source: Unsplash

A table at a daycare facility | Source: Unsplash

I grappled with the betrayal, struggling to understand how the man I loved could have deceived me so thoroughly.

In the end, it was Sam’s innocent revelation that had brought the painful truth to light. While the knowledge devastated me, it also offered a strange sort of relief.

“Take his money,” my lawyer said. “We’re going to take him for everything he has.”

And I did.

A person signing a document | Source: Pexels

A person signing a document | Source: Pexels

What would you have done?

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

Juliet, a single mom, loves raising her nine-year-old daughter, River, by herself. River pushes her to be better. But after a while, Juliet begins to notice fierce independence taking over River—wanting more responsibility and autonomy. But then Juliet discovers a secret that comes with River’s backpack, and a hidden friend comes to light.

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.

This Is How I Won a Prank War My Neighbor and I Had Going for the past Year

his Is How I Won a Prank War My Neighbor and I Had Going for the past Year

It started off innocently enough. Selene parked her car in the wrong parking spot, fueling a prank war with Paul, the real owner of the parking spot. As the months went by, the pair continued their prank war, but Selen started to wonder about the future of these seemingly innocent practical jokes. She took matters into her own hands and asked Paul out for dinner, under the guise of someone else. Will it be the ultimate prank or something more?

It all began with a parking mishap. It was just one innocent mistake that spiraled into a year-long prank war with my neighbor, Paul.

An apartment building parking lot | Source: Unsplash

An apartment building parking lot | Source: Unsplash

One evening, I accidentally parked in Paul’s parking spot in our apartment building’s lot. It was late, I was exhausted, and I just wanted to crawl into bed.

I didn’t think much of it until the next morning when I was on my way to the office. There, on my car, on an empty takeaway cup, a note was scrawled in messy handwriting.

A woman sleeping in bed | Source: Pexels

A woman sleeping in bed | Source: Pexels

Thanks for ruining my day.

“Oh, crap,” I said to myself when I sat in the car. I needed to make amends.

A woman sitting in a car | Source: Pexels

A woman sitting in a car | Source: Pexels

The following morning, I left a warm cup of coffee on Paul’s car roof with a note that read:

Sorry for the mix-up. I hope this makes up for it.

A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Pexels

A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Pexels

If you’re wondering, Paul and I didn’t know each other. We just lived in the same apartment block and knew everyone’s names and door numbers.

A few days later, I found a bill from a car-washing service under my windshield wiper. It seemed that Paul didn’t notice the coffee that I left and spilled it all over his car when he drove off.

A car in a car wash | Source: Pexels

A car in a car wash | Source: Pexels

I refused to pay the bill, and thus, the little war began.

“I think that you and this mysterious Paul are either going to fall in love or end up despising each other,” my friend Daphne said at work.

A smiling woman holding a folder | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman holding a folder | Source: Pexels

“Probably the latter,” I said. “It was all fine until he gave me a bill.”

“Selene,” she said knowingly, “I’m telling you, this is just the beginning.”

The next day, I left my work phone number on his car.

Call me regarding the payment.

A piece of paper on a car | Source: Midjourney

A piece of paper on a car | Source: Midjourney

Paul called me later that evening.

“Really? You thought that leaving coffee on the roof of a car was a good idea?” he asked, going straight into it.

“How was I supposed to know that you’d drive off without looking? Besides, it was a peace offering!”

A man using a phone | Source: Unsplash

A man using a phone | Source: Unsplash

“More like a disaster,” he said. “It was all over my window. Pay the car wash bill, please.”

“I’m not paying for it,” I said, hanging up.

After that, the pranks escalated quickly.

Spilled coffee in the air | Source: Pexels

Spilled coffee in the air | Source: Pexels

“I told you,” Daphne said when she came home with me one evening. “It’s going to get more intense. You need to listen to me. Trust me on this, you and this guy are going to get under each other’s skin.”

“I don’t know about that, Daph,” I said, dishing out the curry we had bought for dinner.

Bowls of curry and rice | Source: Unsplash

Bowls of curry and rice | Source: Unsplash

“But you’re having fun?” she asked, tearing into a piece of bread.

“I am!” I said. “Mainly because it’s nothing serious.”

Flatbread on a board | Source: Pexels

Flatbread on a board | Source: Pexels

One day, I found my car doors wrapped in plastic wrap.

The next week, I retaliated by covering Paul’s car in sticky notes, each one asking him to fix his parking.

A person tearing through plastic wrap | Source: Pexels

A person tearing through plastic wrap | Source: Pexels

“If it rains tonight,” Paul said, immediately calling me after seeing the sticky notes, “you’ll have a mushy mess of paper to clean up.”

“I think you’ll figure it out for yourself,” I said, hiding behind my curtain.

A car covered in sticky notes | Source: Midjourney

A car covered in sticky notes | Source: Midjourney

I had to admit, I was attracted to him. I didn’t know if Paul knew who I was, but it was easier for me to watch him from my apartment. I had gotten used to watching him wash his car.

It turned out that it was comforting. There was a sense of intimacy that we had built up.

A person hiding behind blinds | Source: Unsplash

A person hiding behind blinds | Source: Unsplash

After months of back-and-forth pranks, ranging from balloons tied onto car handles and window wipers, to fake parking tickets, I decided that it was time to end the war.

“But you need a grand finale,” Daphne said as we sat in our office, trying to work through month-end reports.

A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels

A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels

“Like what?” I asked, typing away at my keyboard.

“You’re into him, right?” she asked, sipping her coffee.

“I think so,” I said. “But I don’t know much about him.”

A woman drinking coffee | Source: Pexels

A woman drinking coffee | Source: Pexels

“Then get to know him,” my friend pressed on. “There’s something there; if not, this would have ended a long time ago.”

“Fine,” I said. “But you write the note. He knows my handwriting now.”

We intended to write a note from a secret admirer.

A person writing a note | Source: Pexels

A person writing a note | Source: Pexels

“She can just be someone from your apartment,” Daphne said. “And it’s not like you and Paul have even interacted in person, Selene. To be honest, I don’t know how you’ve managed to stay anonymous for so long.”

“It’s the thrill of it,” I said.

A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash

A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash

Early the next morning, I left the note that Daphne had written on Paul’s car.

Hey, I saw you leaving your car and couldn’t help but notice how handsome you are. Let’s have dinner?

I added my personal number that he wouldn’t recognize at the bottom.

A folded piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

A folded piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

To my surprise, Paul called me later that morning.

“Selene, you’ll never guess what happened!” he said excitedly. “Some woman left me a note on my car.”

“Really?” I asked, feigning surprise. “What did it say?”

A woman on the phone | Source: Pexels

A woman on the phone | Source: Pexels

“She said that I was handsome and she wanted to have dinner. She left her number, too. So, I’m going to text her and go.”

Paul took the bait and texted me. We set up a date, and I, still pretending to be someone else, agreed to meet him at a local restaurant.

A table at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A table at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

I was already seated, suddenly nervous. We had been at this for so long; what if everything blew up in my face?

What if I was living in a romantic comedy and Paul actually couldn’t stand me?

Almost ready to leave, Paul walked into the restaurant.

A man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Hey, you’re here! You look familiar,” he said. “But I suppose I have seen you around the building.”

He spoke quickly, as though he was just as nervous.

“I’m sure that’s exactly it,” I said, smiling.

A smiling man | Source: Pexels

A smiling man | Source: Pexels

“Your voice reminds me of my neighbor, Selene. I’m sure you’ve seen us pranking each other recently,” he chuckled, his eyes glazing over as if lost in a memory.

“What’s that been like?” I asked.

A smiling woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Well, Daphne,” he said, as I had introduced myself over text, “it’s been hilarious. It’s been the best few months of my life.”

“It sounds like she’s grown on you,” I said, smiling.

“She’s feisty, all right,” he said, ordering himself a whiskey.

A man holding a glass of whiskey | Source: Pexels

A man holding a glass of whiskey | Source: Pexels

The rest of the evening went by smoothly, but the more Paul spoke, the more I found myself genuinely enjoying his company. He was charming, funny, and surprisingly sweet.

By the time our meals arrived, I couldn’t keep the truth from him any longer.

Plates of food at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Plates of food at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Paul,” I said, picking up my cocktail, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s that?” he asked, looking me in the eye.

“I haven’t been very honest about this date,” I said slowly. “I’m Selene.”

A cocktail on a table | Source: Pexels

A cocktail on a table | Source: Pexels

Paul’s jaw dropped.

“Wait, really?” he asked. “Why did you want to meet like this?”

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “Call it insecurity? Daphne is my best friend; I asked her to write the note, and I used her name. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have deceived you.”

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

“No, no,” he said, a large smile forming on his face. “I’ve never had this much fun with anyone. I’m glad we got to meet. Finally.”

The rest of the evening went much smoother, knowing that we had something in common. It was something to bond over. And more than that, there was chemistry between us. It wasn’t just me.

“I’m glad we did this,” Paul said as we went our separate ways in the parking lot. “It needed to happen.”

An empty parking lot | Source: Pexels

An empty parking lot | Source: Pexels

“And now, we’re here,” I said, taking his hand, suddenly feeling brave.

I don’t know where our relationship will go or what it will become, but I do know that I’ve taken the first step toward something.

What would you have done?

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

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