{"id":121441,"date":"2025-04-10T08:45:23","date_gmt":"2025-04-10T01:45:23","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/?p=121441"},"modified":"2025-04-10T08:57:20","modified_gmt":"2025-04-10T01:57:20","slug":"my-mil-turned-my-bathroom-into-a-spa-using-all-my-stuff-so-i-planned-the-perfect-revenge-story-of-the-day","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/my-mil-turned-my-bathroom-into-a-spa-using-all-my-stuff-so-i-planned-the-perfect-revenge-story-of-the-day\/","title":{"rendered":"My MIL Turned My Bathroom Into a Spa Using All My Stuff So I Planned the Perfect Revenge \u2014 Story of the Day"},"content":{"rendered":"

I came home to find my MIL soaking in my tub, using my candlelight, my gel, and my towel. That\u2019s when I knew \u2014 she hadn\u2019t moved in. She\u2019d taken over. So I smiled… and got creative.
\n $\"\"$ I liked our life.\n

I really, really did.\n

There was something deeply satisfying about the way our apartment smelled like vanilla and order. The way the sun hit the kitchen counter at exactly 4 PM.\n

$\"\"$ \n

The gentle silence after work \u2014 no one talking, no TV blaring, just me and the soothing gurgle of my espresso machine. Our space was calm. Predictable. Mine.\n

Then husband, Daniel walked into the laundry room with that cautious look husbands get when they know they\u2019re about to ruin your day.\n

I was pulling socks from the dryer, feeling rather proud of my folding technique, when he cleared his throat.\n

\u201cBabe\u2026 We need to take in my mom for a few days.\u201d\n

I paused, holding one of his socks.\n

\u201cShe okay?\u201d\n

\u201cYeah, she\u2019s fine. But her building had a pipe burst. Whole apartment\u2019s soaked. Just a week. Maybe less.\u201d\n

A week.\n

I nodded. What else could I do? I wasn\u2019t heartless.\n

\u201cI\u2019ll survive,\u201d I muttered.\n

He kissed my cheek.\n

\u201cYou\u2019re the best.\u201d\n
Turns out, I overestimated myself.\n
$\"\"$ \n
By day two, our apartment was unrecognizable. And not in a “cute makeover” kind of way.\n
My framed photos \u2014 gone. Just gone. Replaced with my MIL’s Linda sepia-toned portraits of her.\n
And with her first husband (Daniel\u2019s dad, may he rest in peace). And her friend Carol from the hospital.\n
And a photo of a Chihuahua I\u2019m 90% sure had been dead since the Clinton administration.\n
And the smell. It hit you every time you walked into a room.\n
I found reed diffusers in the bathroom, little perfume balls on my vanity, and even a small pouch of potpourri in my underwear drawer. My underwear drawer.\n
Still, I didn\u2019t say anything.\n
Linda was a guest. Until that night.\n
I walked into the bathroom and saw her standing there, rubbing something into her d\u00e9colletage.\n
It was MY precious, outrageously expensive, only-on-special-occasions, shipped-from-New-York-like-royalty cream.\n
\u201cOh, Emily! This cream! It\u2019s divine. Where did you get it?\u201d\n
My jaw made a noise but no words followed.\n
\u201cIt\u2019s like silk!\u201d she continued, squeezing out more. \u201cYou have such amazing taste.\u201d\n
She didn\u2019t ask. She didn\u2019t pause. She just helped herself.\n
I smiled. Nodded. Said nothing.\n
This is still tolerable. Barely. As long as she doesn\u2019t cross the line.\n
***
\nThe following day was brutal. Emails, phone calls, two back-to-back meetings, and a passive-aggressive lunch with my manager.\n
I just wanted peace at home. A shower. Ten minutes of being alone in my skin. I slipped off my shoes, turned on the kettle, and… froze.\n
Singing. High-pitched, cheerful, and distinctly coming from the direction of our bedroom. I followed the sound. The door to our ensuite bathroom was cracked open. A thick curl of steam escaped into the hallway.\n
The scent hit me instantly \u2014 sweet, lush, unmistakably familiar. MY passionfruit bath gel. I pushed the door open, and there she was.\n
Linda. In MY tub!\n
$\"\"$ \n
Reclining like she was in a commercial. Surrounded by candles, MY candles. Steam rising dramatically as if the universe was mocking me. She had MY bath brush, MY scrub, and MY purple towel folded nearby like a personal butler had placed it there.\n
\u201cEmily!\u201d she squealed, completely unbothered. \u201cI thought you were asleep already!\u201d\n
I just stood there.\n
\u201cLinda\u2026 this is our private bathroom.\u201d\n
She waved a hand through the steam like she was shooing a fly.\n
\u201cOh, come on. We\u2019re both women. You\u2019re not using it right now, and this tub is perfect. Yours is so much nicer than the guest one.\u201d\n
She picked up MY rose scrub like we were about to have a spa night together.\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t think you\u2019d mind. We girls share everything, right?\u201d\n
I turned. Walked out.\n
That evening, I told Daniel \u2014 calmly. He slurped his soup and shrugged.\n
\u201cShe probably just needed a moment to herself. You know how she is. Besides, don\u2019t women\u2026 do that? Share stuff?\u201d\n
I stared at him. Long and hard.\n
\u201cYou think this is normal?\u201d\n
\u201cIt\u2019s not not normal.\u201d\n
I got up, went to the drawer, and found the old key to our bedroom. I had never used it before \u2014 but seemed like the time. Or so I thought.\n
Because the following morning, I realized\u2026\n
Locks mean nothing when the intruder has already decided she owns the place.\n
***
\nIt was supposed to be my Saturday. My one day. No emails, no meetings, no small talk.\n
Just me, a yoga mat, lemon water, and my favorite playlist humming soft Tibetan bells. And finally \u2014 finally \u2014 felt like I could exhale.\n
$\"\"$ \n
Until I heard it. Loud laughter. Music. Something clinked downstairs. Then footsteps \u2014 multiple \u2014 in heels.\n
No. No, no, no. Not today.\n
I grabbed my hoodie and padded down the stairs, barefoot and still slightly zen. But the moment I turned the corner into the living room, all chakra alignment vanished.\n
It looked like a senior prom with a dash of bingo night.\n
There were at least six people \u2014 four older women in glittery tops and way-too-bold lipstick, two silver-haired gentlemen in suspenders sipping wine, and at the center of it all\u2026\n
Linda! Waltzing.\n
With a tray of cheese cubes and mini crackers.\n
And what is she wearing? MY blouse.\n
$\"\"$ \n
The one I bought three weeks ago to wear to my best friend\u2019s birthday \u2014 silky, deep blue, low-cut but elegant.\n
I hadn\u2019t even taken the tags off until the day before when I gently steamed it and hung it in the hall closet so it wouldn\u2019t wrinkle. I felt my soul briefly leave my body.\n
\u201cEmily, darling!\u201d Linda beamed, spinning with a giggle. \u201cWe started without you! Come, meet everyone!\u201d\n
I stood frozen. Hair a mess, and barefoot, in my yoga top. One of the older gentlemen approached me with a charming bow.\n
\u201cCare for a dance, my lady?\u201d\n
Before I could respond, he took my hand and spun me once, twice, and I awkwardly stumbled right into a sequin-covered bosom.\n
The woman he came with gave me a look that could curdle milk.\n
\u201cLinda, honey… And who is this? What\u2019s she doing in your house?\u201d\n
My house?\n
I pulled away gently and marched Linda into the kitchen, still gripping the lemon water bottle like a weapon.\n
\u201cWhat is this?\u201d I hissed.\n
\u201cA party! Just a little something to lift the spirits. You weren\u2019t using the living room anyway!\u201d\n
\u201cIn my blouse? In my house?\u201d\n
She gave me a look \u2014 sweet, almost maternal.\n
\u201cI told them it was my home. Just to\u2026 you know, avoid questions. They wouldn\u2019t have come if I\u2019d said I was staying with my son and his wife. I just wanted to feel like a hostess again.\u201d\n
\u201cAnd the blouse?\u201d\n
\u201cIt was just hanging there. I thought, why not?\u201d\n
\u201cEveryone out. Now.\u201d\n
She tilted her head.\n
\u201cOh Emily, don\u2019t be dramatic. What will Daniel say? Kicking his poor mother out after she\u2019s had such a rough time?\u201d\n
Her voice turned syrupy.\n
\u201cHe\u2019ll be so disappointed.\u201d\n
I stared at her. And smiled.\n
\u201cFine. They can stay.\u201d\n
\u201cReally?\u201d\n
\u201cAbsolutely,\u201d I said, almost amused. \u201cMake yourselves at home.\u201d\n
Her face lit up with confusion and something that looked a lot like triumph.\n
But inside me, something very different lit up.\n
Because if Linda thought she knew how to be petty\u2026 She hadn\u2019t seen me take the tour group of silver-haired gentlemen through Daniel\u2019s office yet.\n
Let\u2019s just say\u2026\n
Some people explore museums. I let them explore our home.\n
$\"\"$ \n
With subtle suggestions and open doors.\n
And Linda?\n
She was about to find out what it felt like when someone touched what was mine.\n
***\n
The following morning began with a familiar, delicious tension in the air. Like the final act of a play where only I had read the script. Daniel\u2019s voice cracked through the quiet,\n
\u201cEmily! Why is my cologne bottle empty?!\u201d\n
I gently stirred my coffee, not even turning around.\n
\u201cThe brown one?\u201d I asked sweetly.\n
He appeared in the kitchen doorway, holding the bottle as it had personally betrayed him.\n
\u201cThis was nearly full! Now it\u2019s bone dry. What happened?\u201d\n
I squinted thoughtfully.\n
\u201cOh. That might\u2019ve been Thomas?\u201d\n
\u201cThomas?\u201d\n