An entitled mom thought breaking my little daughter’s iPad would end her son’s tantrums. But what came next left her more panicked than I could’ve imagined. Karma works fast… even at 30,000 feet!
I, Bethany, 35 years old, never thought a two-hour flight could change so much. But there I was, settling into my seat with my five-year-old daughter Ella next to me. As the plane taxied down the runway, I breathed a sigh of relief. Ella was contentedly watching cartoons on her iPad, headphones snug on her ears…
A cheerful little girl holding a tablet | Source: Freepik
“You comfy, sweetie?” I asked, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
Ella nodded, her eyes glued to the screen. “Uh-huh. Can I have juice later?”
“Of course,” I smiled, reaching for my book. “Just let me know when you’re thirsty.”
As I cracked open my novel, movement across the aisle caught my eye. A family of three had just sat down: a couple and a little boy around Ella’s age. He was squirming in his seat, whining loudly.
Grayscale of a little boy throwing a tantrum | Source: Pexels
“I’m bored!” he wailed, kicking the seat in front of him.
His mother shushed him. “We told you, no screens on this trip. Be a good boy.”
The boy’s whining intensified, and I saw his gaze lock onto Ella’s iPad.
Oh boy, I thought. This might be a long flight.
A little boy crying | Source: Pexels
Twenty minutes in, a tap on my shoulder made me look up. The mom from across the aisle was leaning towards me, a tight smile on her face.
“Hi there! I couldn’t help but notice your daughter’s iPad. We’ve decided to be responsible parents and not give our son any screen time this vacation. Would you mind putting that away? It’s making him upset.”
I blinked, stunned by her audacity. “Excuse me?”
“It’s just… it’s not fair to him, you know?”
An annoyed woman sitting in an airplane | Source: Midjourney
I took a deep breath, reminding myself to stay calm. “I’m sorry, but no. My daughter’s using it to stay calm during the flight.”
The woman’s smile vanished instantly. “Wow, really? You’d rather ruin our family trip than have your daughter take a break from her precious screen?”
“Listen,” I said, my patience wearing thin, “she’s quietly minding her own business. Your son could do the same if you’d brought him something to do.”
An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney
The woman, let’s just call her “Entitled Mom (EM)” was visibly frustrated.
“Some parents just can’t say no to their kids these days. No wonder they all end up spoiled.”
I turned back to my book, hoping that would end the conversation. But I could feel her glare burning into the side of my head.
“Everything okay, Mommy?” Ella asked, momentarily looking up from her show.
“Everything’s fine, sweetie. Just keep watching your cartoons.”
Little girl holding a tablet in an airplane | Source: Pexels
The next hour was tense. The boy’s tantrum escalated, his wails piercing through the cabin noise.
His parents shot us dirty looks every few minutes, as if we were personally responsible for their poor planning.
“I want that!” the boy shrieked, pointing at Ella’s iPad. “It’s not fair!”
His mother leaned over. “I know, honey. Some people are just SELFISH!”
I gritted my teeth, focusing on my book. The words blurred as I tried to block out the chaos around us. Ella remained oblivious, lost in her cartoons.
Grayscale of a sad boy | Source: Pexels
Suddenly, a commotion erupted beside us. Entitled Mom had leaned across the aisle, reaching for her bag. But instead of grabbing her belongings, her arm knocked into Ella’s tray table.
Time seemed to slow as I watched Ella’s iPad slide off the tray. It hit the floor with a sickening crack, the screen shattering into a spiderweb of fractures.
Ella’s scream cut through the air. “Mommy, my iPad!”
A tablet with a shattered screen | Source: Midjourney
Entitled Mom’s face lit with fake surprise. “Oh no! I didn’t mean to do that! So clumsy of me!”
But I saw the glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. This was NO ACCIDENT.
“What is wrong with you?” I hissed.
She shrugged, not even trying to hide her smugness. “These things happen. Maybe it’s a sign she needs less screen time.”
Two women arguing | Source: Midjourney
I was about to unleash a torrent of words that would make a sailor blush when a flight attendant appeared.
“Is everything alright here?” she asked, eyeing the shattered iPad.
Entitled Mom’s act kicked into high gear. “Oh, it was just a terrible accident. I feel awful!”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the flight attendant cut me off with a sympathetic smile.
“I’m so sorry about your device, ma’am. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do mid-flight. Please let us know if you need anything else.”
A flight attendant smiling | Source: Midjourney
As she walked away, I turned to comfort my distraught daughter, knowing this battle was far from over. But it seemed karma had other plans.
With Ella’s iPad out of commission, the boy’s tantrum reached new heights. He bounced in his seat, kicked the chair in front of him, and yanked on the tray table.
“Sweetie, please settle down,” Entitled Mom pleaded.
“I’m bored! This is the worst trip ever!”
A little boy covering his eye | Source: Pexels
I watched from the corner of my eye, torn between sympathy for the child and a petty sense of satisfaction at Entitled Mom’s struggle.
Ella tugged on my sleeve, her eyes still watery. “Mommy, can you fix it?”
I hugged her close. “I’m sorry, sweetie. We’ll have to get it looked at when we land. How about we read a book instead?”
A little girl crying in an airplane | Source: Midjourney
As I reached into my bag for another book, chaos erupted across the aisle.
The boy, in a fit of hyperactivity, had knocked over Entitled Mom’s coffee cup. The dark liquid spread across her lap and splashed into her open handbag.
“No, no, no!” she cried, frantically trying to save her belongings.
In her haste to rescue her bag, something fell out and landed on the floor. Yikes! It was a small blue booklet. I took a closer look and gasped. It was her PASSPORT!
Coffee spilling from a cup | Source: Midjourney
Before anyone could react, her son’s foot came down on the fallen document, grinding it into the coffee-soaked carpet.
God, you should’ve seen Entitled Mom’s face. It was EPIC!
She snatched up the passport, but the damage was done. The pages were soaked through, stuck together in a soggy mess. The cover was warped beyond recognition. It looked like a water-logged, soggy piece of toast.
A startled woman | Source: Pexels
“Ma’am?” A flight attendant approached. “Is that your passport?”
Entitled Mom nodded, speechless for once.
“I’m so sorry, but I have to inform you that a damaged passport could cause serious issues when we land. Especially if you’re traveling internationally.”
Entitled Mom’s eyes widened in panic. She turned to her husband, seeking a way out. “What are we going to do? Our connecting flight to Paris leaves in three hours!”
Side view of a flight attendant | Source: Midjourney
Her husband shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. Maybe we can explain at customs?”
As they bickered, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of malevolence.
As the plane began its descent, Entitled Mom was frantically dabbing at her ruined passport with tissues, muttering under her breath. Her son, exhausted from his earlier tantrums, had finally fallen asleep.
An anxious man | Source: Midjourney
I leaned over to Ella, who was reading her storybook with a big smile. “Great job, sweetie! You’re a real bookworm!”
She beamed at me, her earlier distress over the iPad forgotten. “Can we bake cupcakes when we get home, Mommy?”
“Absolutely,” I promised, ruffling her hair. “And maybe we can bake some cookies too!”
A soft whimper from across the aisle drew my attention. Entitled Mom was on the phone, her eyes brimming with panic.
Grayscale of a woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, I understand it’s last minute, but we need to reschedule our entire trip. No, we can’t make the connecting flight. Because… because my passport is ruined.”
I couldn’t help but overhear as she explained the situation, detailing how she’d have to go through the process of getting an emergency passport before they could continue their journey.
As we began to taxi to our gate, Entitled Mom caught my eye as we stood to disembark.
An anxious woman with her eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney
For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of remorse in her eyes. But then her son started whining again, and the moment passed.
“Ready to go, Ella?” I asked, helping her gather her things.
“Can we get ice cream at the airport, Mommy?”
“I think we deserve a little treat, don’t you think?!” I laughed.
A boy opening his mouth | Source: Pexels
As we made our way off the plane, I couldn’t help but reflect on the bizarre turn of events. What had started as a simple two-hour flight had turned into a lesson in karma, patience, and the unpredictability of travel.
I glanced back one last time to see Entitled Mom still frantically trying to salvage her ruined passport. It was a grim reminder that our actions, good or bad, often have unexpected consequences.
A frustrated woman holding her head | Source: Pexels
Turns out, it wasn’t just Ella’s iPad that got ruined on that flight. Entitled Mom ended up losing something much more valuable!
As we walked hand in hand towards the baggage claim, I squeezed Ella’s fingers, thankful for the perspective this chaotic flight had given me. Sometimes, the best lessons come from the worst experiences.
Have you ever encountered a nightmare neighbor on a flight? Share your own flight horror stories in the comments!
Lady with a little girl leaving an airport | Source: Midjourney
Here’s another story: An entitled rich man mocks a poor boy shining shoes in an underpass. He learns a brutal lesson the very next day.
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.
My 5-Year-Old Refused to Cut Her Hair, Saying, ‘I Want My Real Daddy to Recognize Me When He Comes Back’
When my five-year-old daughter refused to cut her hair, I didn’t think much of it until she said she wanted to keep her hair long for her “real daddy.” Those words made my heart skip a beat. Who was she talking about? Was there someone else in my wife’s life that I had no idea about?
Hi, I’m Edward, and this story is about my daughter, Lily.
Lily is the light of our lives. At just five years old, she’s a bundle of energy and curiosity, always asking a million questions and coming up with the funniest observations.
A little girl standing in her house | Source: Midjourney
She’s sharp, sweet, and has got this laugh that can brighten even the darkest days. My wife, Sara, and I couldn’t be prouder of her.
But last week, something happened that turned our happy little world upside down.
It all started a few months ago when Lily began refusing to let us trim her hair.
Her locks, which she usually loved having brushed and styled, became untouchable.
A little girl looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
She’d sit cross-legged on the bathroom floor, clutching her hair like it was her most prized possession.
“No, Daddy,” she’d announce. “I want my hair to stay long.”
At first, Sara and I thought it was just a phase. Kids are quirky like that, right?
Sara’s mom, Carol, had always commented about Sara’s pixie cut being “too short for a proper lady,” so we figured maybe Lily wanted to assert her own style.
“Sure,” I told her. “You don’t have to cut your hair.”
A man standing in his house | Source: Midjourney
Then came the gum incident.
It was one of those classic parenting moments you hear about, and hope it never happens to you.
Lily had fallen asleep on the couch during a movie night, gum still in her mouth. By the time Sara and I found her, it was too late.
The gum was hopelessly tangled in her hair.
A close-up shot of a girl’s hair | Source: Midjourney
We tried everything, including peanut butter, ice, and even that strange online trick with vinegar.
But nothing worked.
That’s when we knew cutting her hair was the only option.
Sara knelt beside Lily with the comb in her hand.
“Sweetheart, we’re going to have to cut a little bit of your hair,” she told Lily. “Just the part with the gum.”
What happened next caught both of us completely off guard.
An upset woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
Lily’s face twisted in panic, and she bolted upright, clutching her hair like it was a lifeline.
“No!” she cried. “You can’t cut it! I want my real daddy to recognize me when he comes back!”
Sara looked at her with wide eyes while I felt my heart drop into my stomach.
“What did you say, Lily?” I asked carefully, crouching down to her level.
She looked at me with wide, tearful eyes as if she’d just let a big secret slip.
An upset girl | Source: Midjourney
“I… I want my real daddy to know it’s me,” she said quietly.
Sara and I exchanged a stunned glance.
Then, I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
“Lily, sweetheart, I am your daddy,” I said, my voice as gentle as I could make it. “What makes you think I’m not?”
Her little lip quivered, and she whispered, “Grandma said so.”
What? Why would Carol say that to her? Who was the man Lily was talking about?
“What exactly did Grandma say, honey?” Sara asked gently.
A woman looking at her daughter | Source: Midjourney
“She said I have to keep my hair long so my real daddy will know it’s me when he comes back,” Lily explained, clutching her locks even tighter. “She said he’ll be mad if he doesn’t recognize me.”
I couldn’t believe this.
“Sweetheart,” I interrupted. “What do you mean by ‘real daddy’?”
Lily sniffled, looking down at her tiny hands. “Grandma told me you’re not my real daddy. She said my real daddy went away, but he’ll come back someday. And if I look different, he won’t know who I am.”
A little girl standing with her hands clasped together | Source: Pexels
“Lily, listen to me,” Sara said, taking Lily’s hands gently. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re not in trouble. But I need you to tell me exactly what Grandma said. Can you do that for me?”
Lily hesitated, then nodded. “She said it’s a secret. That I shouldn’t tell you or Daddy, or he’d get mad. But I didn’t want him to be mad at me.I don’t want anyone to be mad at me.”
My chest tightened, and I swallowed the lump in my throat.
A man standing in a dimly lit room | Source: Midjourney
“Lily,” I said softly, “you are so loved. By me, by Mommy, and by everyone who knows you. No one is mad at you, okay? Grandma shouldn’t have told you something like that.”
Sara’s eyes filled with tears as she hugged Lily tightly. “You’re our daughter, Lily. Your daddy — your real daddy — is right here. He always has been.”
Lily nodded slowly, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. But the damage had been done. How could Carol, someone we trusted, say something so confusing to our child?
That night, after Lily fell asleep, Sara and I sat in the living room.
A couple sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“What the hell was she thinking?” Sara muttered, her voice shaking with anger.
“I don’t know,” I said, trying to keep my own frustration in check. “But she crossed a line. We need to talk to her, Sara. Tomorrow.”
The next morning, Sara called her mom and told her to come over. Carol arrived with her usual air of confidence, but Sara wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney
As soon as Carol stepped inside, Sara’s anger boiled over.
“What the heck is wrong with you, Mom?” she snapped. “Why would you tell Lily that Edward isn’t her real dad? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
Carol blinked, clearly taken aback by the hostility.
“Now, hold on,” she said, raising a hand. “You’re making this sound worse than it is. It was just a little story. Nothing to get so worked up about.”
A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney
“A story?” I interjected. “She’s been terrified of cutting her hair for months because of this ‘story.’”
Carol rolled her eyes as if we were being dramatic.
“Oh, come on. I just wanted her to keep her hair long,” she confessed. “She’s a little girl, for heaven’s sake! She shouldn’t have one of those awful short cuts like yours, Sara.”
Sara’s mouth fell open.
“So, you lied to her? You made her think her dad wasn’t her dad just to keep her hair long? Are you hearing yourself right now, Mom?”
A woman talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney
“She won’t even remember it when she’s older. But she would remember looking ridiculous in photos with a boyish haircut.”
“This isn’t about hair, Carol,” I snapped. “You undermined our family. You made Lily think I wasn’t her real father. This isn’t normal, okay?”
Carol pursed her lips, then delivered a line that shattered what little composure we had left. “Well, with Sara’s wild past, who’s to say you are her real dad?”
A woman talking to her daughter and son-in-law | Source: Midjourney
What the heck? I thought. What else is she going to say to justify her mistake?
That’s when Sara lost her cool.
“Get out,” she said, pointing to the door. “Get out of my house. You’re not welcome here anymore.”
Carol tried to backtrack, stammering about how she “didn’t mean it that way,” but I wasn’t having it.
I stepped forward, opened the door, and gestured firmly. “Now, Carol. Leave.”
She glared at us, muttering something under her breath as she walked out, but I didn’t care.
After slamming the door behind Carol, Sara and I looked at each other.
A man looking at his wife | Source: Midjourney
Then, she sank into the couch with her face buried in her hands.
I sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“We’ll get through this,” I said quietly, though the anger in my chest was still burning hot.
Sara nodded, but I could see the heartbreak on her face. “I can’t believe my own mother would do something like this.”
We spent the rest of the evening sitting with Lily, explaining everything as gently as we could.
A person holding a child’s hand | Source: Pexels
I held her tiny hands in mine and looked her straight in the eyes. “Lily, I am your daddy. I always have been, and I always will be. Nothing Grandma said is true, okay?”
Lily nodded. “So, you’re my real daddy?”
“Yes, sweetheart,” I smiled. “Always.”
“Grandma was wrong to tell you that,” Sara chimed in. “She shouldn’t have said it, and it’s not your fault. We love you so much, Lily. Don’t ever forget that.”
Lily seemed to relax a little, though she still looked hesitant when Sara brought out the scissors to cut the gum out of her hair.
Yes, the gum was still there.
A man talking to his daughter | Source: Midjourney
“Do I have to?” Lily asked, clutching the tangled strand.
“It’s just a tiny bit, honey,” Sara explained. “And it’ll grow back so fast, you won’t even notice. Plus, you’ll feel so much better without the gum sticking to everything.”
After a moment, Lily nodded. “Okay, but only a little.”
As Sara snipped away the gum-covered strands, I saw a small smile creep onto Lily’s face.
A woman cutting hair | Source: Pexels
“Daddy?” she asked.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“When it grows back, can I make it pink?”
Sara and I laughed.
“If that’s what you want,” I said, ruffling her hair.
Over the next few days, things slowly returned to normal. Lily seemed happier and more relaxed and even asked Sara to braid her hair again. It was something she hadn’t done in months.
As for Carol, we’ve gone no-contact.
Sara and I agreed that she has no place in Lily’s life until she can take responsibility for what she did.
To be honest, it wasn’t an easy decision, but our priority is protecting Lily. We’ll do whatever it takes to keep our little girl happy.
A girl holding her parents’ hands | Source: Pexels
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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