My Stepmom Told Me to Wash Dishes After Her Birthday Party Because I Didn’t Gift Her a Dishwasher – Karma Hit back for Her Audacity

When Mia’s stepmother, Trudy, plans an elaborate party for her 45th birthday, Mia has no choice but to do as she is told, including being a hidden helper throughout the festivities. But lucky for Mia, karma seems to be on her side, ready to teach Trudy a lesson.

Grab some popcorn, folks, because this story is one of those moments when the universe steps in and delivers a cosmic smackdown right when you least expect it.

Let me introduce you to the key players of the story:

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

I’m Mia. I’m sixteen years old and stuck in a suburban home with my dad and stepmom, Trudy. Trudy’s been around for about two years, and, oh boy, does she have the “wicked stepmother” act down perfectly.

If you looked up “entitled” in the dictionary, I’m pretty sure you’d find her picture staring back at you.

Life with her has felt like living inside a bad reality show, but no one is filming, and definitely not paying me for my trouble.

A close up of an older woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of an older woman | Source: Midjourney

Dad stays out of the way as much as he can. He’s the “happy wife, happy life” type of man, except that Trudy’s never really happy. She’s the type who expects the world to fall at her feet and cater to her every whim.

Now, let’s talk about last Saturday, the day of Trudy’s birthday party. It was so over-the-top that, honestly, it could have been a wedding reception.

It was her 45th birthday, and Trudy was trying to hold on to her youth in any way she could. In the week leading up to the party, she strutted around the house like some kind of queen.

A smiling older man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older man | Source: Midjourney

“You’d better get me something special this year, Mia,” she said when she came into the kitchen as I was cutting up fruit for my morning smoothie. “A dishwasher would be nice. After all, I’ve done a lot for you.”

Yeah, sure. Good old Trudy. She’s done a lot for me… if you count bossing me around like I’m some sort of Cinderella knockoff.

A close up of a smoothie | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a smoothie | Source: Midjourney

“Uh, Trudy,” I said, adding yogurt to the blender, “I’m kind of saving for my prom dress.”

I already knew where this conversation was going.

Her face twisted into this weird look, like she couldn’t believe I just said that.

“Your prom dress?” she scoffed. “Mia, that’s ridiculous! You can just buy something from one of the clothing stores. Something cheap. A dishwasher is much more practical. I don’t want to hear any more excuses.”

A woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

Excuses? I was floored. This woman really expected me to drop all my savings on an appliance just because she “deserved” it. Like, where’s my fairy godmother when I need her?

And anyway, Trudy was the one who convinced my dad that I was too young to get an after-school or weekend job.

“Mia can only babysit kids on this street,” Trudy told my dad one night at dinner. “She’ll be safe and only a few houses away from home. And anyway, it’s not like she needs that much money.”

A woman sitting at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

So, all my prom dress savings? They were from babysitting jobs that I had taken over the past year.

They wouldn’t even cover a tiny dishwasher, let alone the dress I wanted. But I was determined to still find something that I loved.

Fast forward to the day of Trudy’s 45th birthday. The house was buzzing with caterers, an event planner ran around with a clipboard, and enough floral arrangements to rival a garden center.

An outdoor birthday party setting | Source: Midjourney

An outdoor birthday party setting | Source: Midjourney

Meanwhile, I was in the background, wiping down mirrors, setting up drink stations, and generally trying to avoid all eye contact.

“Jeez,” I said to myself, “are the Royal Family coming over?”

I set up the gin station and tried to leave for my room, hoping that I would make myself presentable before Trudy’s posse of friends showed up.

A gin station | Source: Midjourney

A gin station | Source: Midjourney

As soon as the guests arrived, Trudy transformed into some kind of celebrity. She walked around, tossing fake smiles and soaking up compliments like she was at the Oscars or something.

“Mia! Can you refill the drinks? My guests are thirsty!” she barked from the marquee outside.

Of course, I had no choice but to do so. I couldn’t say no. Not with so many people around. Trudy would probably implode.

A woman wearing a gold dress | Source: Midjourney

A woman wearing a gold dress | Source: Midjourney

I did as I was told, floating around like the invisible Cinderella. I was counting down the minutes until we lit the candles on the elaborate cake and the whole day would just dwindle into nothing.

I hid away for a few moments, finally able to get my hands on some food. At least Trudy loved her food, and she had told the caterers that she wanted elaborate meals.

“You’re hiding here, kiddo?” my dad chuckled when he caught me eating a portion of lobster mac and cheese.

A bowl of lobster mac and cheese | Source: Midjourney

A bowl of lobster mac and cheese | Source: Midjourney

“I’m starving, Dad,” I said, eating another forkful of food. “And everyone is eating anyway.”

“Take some time off, Mimi,” he said. “Eat. I’ll bring you one of those fancy milkshakes from the milkshake station.”

Soon after, it was time for the cake. My dad lit the candles while Trudy beamed like a Cheshire cat and did a little dance.

A gold and white cake | Source: Midjourney

A gold and white cake | Source: Midjourney

Everyone sang for her at the top of their voices, and Trudy blew out the candles. As the party was winding down, she clinked her fork against her wine glass and fixed me with that awful, expectant glare of hers.

“Mia, since you didn’t bother to buy me a dishwasher for my birthday, the least you could do is wash all these dishes. It’s only fair.”

I stood there, stunned for a second. Everyone went quiet. Twenty pairs of eyes stared at me like I was the villain in this scenario.

She really said it. Out loud. In front of all her friends.

A smug woman in a gold dress | Source: Midjourney

A smug woman in a gold dress | Source: Midjourney

“You didn’t get your mom a birthday present?” one of Trudy’s friends, Alexis, said. “That’s just… rude. And sad.”

My throat tightened, but I managed to keep my voice calm.

“Trudy, I told you, I didn’t have the money. Especially for a dishwasher. I’ve been saving for prom.”

She waved her hand like I was talking nonsense.

An upset teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

“Just wash the dishes, Mia,” she said. “Do something useful for once.”

I could have screamed. But instead, I swallowed my pride and nodded.

“Fine. I’ll get changed and started on them,” I said.

I spent the next hour elbow-deep in soapy water, scrubbing until my fingers went numb. I wanted to cry, but instead, I just scrubbed harder, imagining the day I’d finally escape this madhouse.

A teenager washing dishes | Source: Midjourney

A teenager washing dishes | Source: Midjourney

By the time I finished, the party was over, and Trudy’s friends were long gone. I dragged myself to bed, emotionally drained.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Trudy’s shriek coming from the kitchen. I thought maybe one of her fancy new gadgets broke. She had just bought herself a lavish new coffee machine that looked like it belonged in a coffee shop.

A coffee machine | Source: Midjourney

A coffee machine | Source: Midjourney

But when I walked into the kitchen, I found her standing in the middle of a disaster zone.

The kitchen was trashed.

The smell of burnt plastic filled the air, and the floor was flooded.

“Mia!” she screamed when she saw me. “Look at what happened!”

A flooded kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A flooded kitchen | Source: Midjourney

I blinked, still half-asleep.

“What… what is going on?”

“The pipes!” she shrieked, flailing her arms. “Oh, my kitchen is ruined! This is going to cost a fortune to fix!”

“But everything was fine last night when I went to bed. What happened here?”

My dad stuck his head into the kitchen.

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

“Trudy, did you really drop all the meat oils into the sink last night?” my dad asked.

“I did!” she said. “I didn’t know where else to throw it out. And the caterers left without taking it. But I did throw some drain cleaner down the sink, too.”

“Oh, Trudy! You’re not supposed to do that! Now look! You messed this up! I told you to just pour out a kettle of boiling water.”

Oil being poured in a sink | Source: Midjourney

Oil being poured in a sink | Source: Midjourney

My first instinct was to laugh. I know I shouldn’t have, but come on. After everything? Didn’t it just seem like karma played a part in this, too?

While Trudy was losing her mind, I couldn’t help but feel a tiny smirk tugging at my lips. I didn’t say a word.

For the next week, the kitchen was completely out of commission. My dad, bless his heart, tried to soothe her, but the damage was done. The cost of the repairs was so high that Dad announced that they’d have to cut back on expenses.

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

“Except for Mia,” he said. “I have $500 for her prom dress.”

“You can’t be serious, David!” Trudy hissed. “You want me to pay for the new kitchen tiles, but you can spoil Mia?”

“You spoiled yourself for your party. I can spoil my child for her prom.”

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

And that was how Trudy learned not to cross my dad. But she did change her tune a bit. She allowed me to get my part-time job, and she tried to actually mend things with me.

“I’ll come with you when you go looking for your dress, Mia,” she said.

Do you think it will last?

A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney

The True Reason Why an Indian Man Has Been Holding His Arm Up Since 1973

“I don’t ask for much,” said this man who has held his arm up for 50 years now. We were deeply amazed by his extraordinary gesture, and upon discovering the real purpose behind it, we couldn’t help but eagerly share his story with our beloved readers.

Meet Amar Bharati.

A devoted Indian ascetic by the name of Amar Bharati has been tirelessly advocating for world peace for 50 years, all the while maintaining a remarkable gesture of raising his right hand in the air without ever lowering it.

A sadhu, which is a revered religious ascetic or holy individual in Hinduism (and occasionally in Buddhism and Jainism), is someone who has willingly renounced all worldly desires.

Mr. Bharati, previously a married man with three children who worked as a clerk in New Delhi, made a life-altering decision in 1970 when he resigned from his job and parted ways with his family and friends. His profound commitment led him to dedicate his existence to Shiva, one of the central deities of Hinduism, often referred to as “the primordial yogi.”

Next, he conceived a gesture that would become universally recognized.

https://brightside.me/articles/the-true-reason-why-an-indian-man-has-been-holding-his-arm-up-since-1973-815647/?utm_source=5_minute_crafts_usa_fb&utm_medium=square_cards&utm_campaign=announcement_links&fbclid=IwAR0rmBiMV5SqbY0G8IXzEoTV53xoDTtr1KgUQqYWo0oZoc0_TrypvMHT7jc_aem_AX9k9it5JVTf7zddsnA3o4eTLS2bmTfvJsGzDV3Oa_EWY0sL7AsIjFzITD5oV0yAS__QT8D3aFe2NwIxTl3tr4mY

Starting in 1973, he began raising his arm as a profound symbol of his unwavering devotion and as a powerful statement to actively advocate for peace and oppose conflicts worldwide. In his unconditional commitment, he endured excruciating pain for two long years, resulting in his arm losing all sensation and the muscles therein wasting away.

Indian sadhus frequently embark on the most rigorous forms of penance, demanding exceptional self-discipline, all in the pursuit of attaining liberation and enlightenment, referred to as Moksha in the Indian spiritual context.

Today, Bharati’s arm stands as a testament to his enduring resolve. It has become a mere skeletal structure, and his once-nails have transformed into spiraling claws.

In a candid interview, the wise sadhu shared his heartfelt message, saying, “I do not ask for much. Why are we fighting our sons among ourselves? Why is there so much hatred and enmity between us? I just want all Indians and the whole world to live in peace with each other.”

One can only fathom the immense pain he must have endured throughout his incredible journey. It is precisely these acts of extreme self-discipline and the underlying motivations behind them that have piqued the interest of individuals outside of India, even drawing the attention of historical figures such as Alexander the Great.

Mr. Amar has adapted to life with his raised arm.

He lives as if his arm is missing, using his other hand for everything, like eating, getting dressed, and bathing. Although it’s not easy, Amar firmly believes that this way of life brings him closer to Shiva and encourages people to think about being more peaceful in their daily routines.

“If you try to lower Bharati’s hand you will cause him real pain, not physical but spiritual, for he believes that his eternal salute does indeed promote world peace,” one of his acquaintances explained. Another individual addressed the practical aspect, pointing out that there’s a physical challenge as well. The cartilage in his elbow has dried out, making any attempt to move his arm a potential risk to his joint.

in his devoted pursuit of peace.

Before you go, make sure to read another article where we explain why rocking a peace sign in your photos can put you in danger.

Preview photo credit ERIC LAFFORGUE / Alamy Stock Photo

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