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

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

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.

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.

“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.

“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.”

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.”

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.

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.

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.

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.

“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.

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.

“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.

“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.

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.

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!”

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.

“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.”

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.

“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.”

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?

What would you have done?

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

My Stepmom Secretly Canceled My Prom Hair Appointment to Ruin My Day – But Her Jaw Dropped When a Limousine Showed Up for Me

When Emily is preparing for prom, she wants to go all out with her outfit, hair, and makeup. But her problematic stepmother, Carla, intervenes and takes matters into her own hands, canceling Emily’s hair appointment. All is not lost when a limousine shows up outside Emily’s house… but who planned it?

Okay, buckle up because you just have to hear about this!

For some background, I’m Emily, 17, and a senior in high school. I live with my dad, my stepmom Carla, and her son, Mason. He’s 11, and honestly, we get along like two siblings should.

But Carla?

Yeah, that woman cannot stand me.

It all started 7 years ago, after my mom passed away from a cold that just wouldn’t go away. Before I knew it, my dad was seeing Carla, and a year later, he married her.

“Your father doesn’t waste any time, does he?” my aunt sniffed on the day of the wedding. “And who is Carla anyway? She’s nothing compared to your mom!”

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.