Mother-in-Law Turned My Thanksgiving into a Disaster, I Got My Revenge on Christmas – Story of the Day

My mother-in-law could not stand me throwing a lovely Thanksgiving dinner and ruined it. She didn't stop at that—she destroyed my late Grandma's most cherished legacy of sentimental value and broke my heart. On Christmas, I got my revenge against my spiteful mother-in-law.

As the first snowflakes graced the window panes, I was busy conducting a trial run of Thanksgiving recipes in the kitchen, excitement and festive joy bubbling inside me.

My husband, Eric, was helping me do the dishes and assemble ingredients, but not without his silly taunts and laughs over how I burnt the apple pie last Thanksgiving.

Petty kitchen accidents happen, especially for a homemaker like me who had just resigned from her precious teaching job and nosedived into taking care of her family full-time! But for some husbands like Eric, our occasional kitchen mishaps are like firewood that fuel their amusement.

The feast was in two weeks, and just as I opened the oven to take out my Grandma's traditional pumpkin pie and see if it had come out well, I fought Eric back with a confident smile, saying, "Oh, don't you worry, silly! You'll never forget this Thanksgiving!"

To my horror, Eric burst out laughing when I took a burnt pie out of the oven. My smile faded, and my heart cracked. I was so upset because this was my Grandma's favorite recipe for Thanksgiving. Despite trying it the fourth time in a row that week, I got it all wrong.

Nobody could make pumpkin pie better than my Grandma. I possessed her precious cookbook, where she'd penned down all her signature recipes to die for. But, despite my best efforts, I still couldn't match up to her standards of cooking, which was frustrating.

"Ugh, I'm never gonna get this right. Sorry, Nana! Grandma would kill me if she's watching this mess from Heaven!" I sighed with a chuckle, disappointment etched all over my face.

Eric burst into a giddy laugh. "Andrea, why don't we order all the dishes from a classy restaurant this Thanksgiving? Wouldn't it be much easier instead of...you know? Besides, traditions have changed, Andy. People have started ordering food outside instead of making a mess in the kitchen!"

I sighed. How could Eric not understand the sentiments attached to Thanksgiving dinner?

"I know, Eric. But it's Thanksgiving! It's a joyous occasion for all of us, and I was trying to make the dishes using my late Grandma's recipes to keep up the tradition," I said.

Eric frowned, although he didn't argue with me in front of our kids, Shaun and Miranda, sitting across from us, playing with their baby brother, Dave.

So I quietly grabbed Grandma's recipe book and said, "I want to make this Thanksgiving memorable. Only my Mom can help me figure this out so I get the dishes right. I'm calling her over!"

Eric immediately turned to me and shot a piercing glare. "Andrea, what do you mean? It's my turn this Thanksgiving, remember? Last year was your family. This year, it's mine!" he snapped.

I could not believe Eric wanted to invite the person I dreaded in the whole world—my mother-in-law, the formidable Vivian—for Thanksgiving this year.

I thought he would understand how difficult it had been for me the past year after losing my Grandma to cancer. I didn't want my widowed Mom to spend Thanksgiving all alone in her cottage.

"Eric, I can't leave Mom alone. I thought you'd understand she's been all alone since Grandma passed. She hasn't moved in with us due to health issues, but that doesn't mean she can't join us for the feast," I argued.

"Well, who's asking her to be alone? Tell her to go spend time with your brother. At least she has someone else. But my Mom has nowhere else to go. I'm her only family, Andy…I can't disinvite her for the holidays," Eric shot back.

I was furious and disappointed. This happens every year. You see, Eric loved his Mom so much that she would be there for my kids' graduation, birthdays, Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year. Name an occasion, and Vivian would be there!

Now, don't get me wrong. Not that I despise my mother-in-law or hate having her around. But you'll know why I dreaded her and never wanted her around for this particular Thanksgiving.

"What's wrong? Why aren't you saying anything?" Eric snapped at me, waiting to know my decision.

"Brian is celebrating in Hawaii this year, Eric. Mom is undergoing her treatment, and she can't afford to travel so far. She would have to get a plane ticket...book a hotel room...pay for food. After dealing with so much this past year, I don't want Mom to spend so much when she can drive barely 100 miles to our place and celebrate with us!" I said.

I thought Eric would understand, at least now. But no, I was wrong!

"Okay, so you're telling me you get to spend time with your mother on Thanksgiving while I don't? Wow!" he hissed.

"No, darling, I didn't mean that. You know how nosey and judgmental your Mom is whenever she comes here. She finds fault with everything I do or say. It's not that I don't want your Mom coming around. Don't get me wrong. But I was really looking forward to a nice celebration this year—"

"Oh, so you mean my Mom's annoying and overbearing, huh, Andrea? As if your Mom is all holy!" Eric frowned without understanding the depth of my words.

How do I make him understand that I am not his mother's enemy? I pondered.

You see, my mother-in-law is judgmental in ways you can never imagine. Her discerning eye and unyielding expectations have turned many harmonious occasions into nightmares.

She's like this strict, old-school teacher we all dreaded—the one who used to shame us, comparing us with all the best performers in class and expecting us to shine with the best grades all the time, forgetting that we weren't bots but humans with tendencies to make mistakes.

Not that Vivian was perfect all the time! She has made her share of mistakes in the past. My mother-in-law is a piece of work, and getting her to accept her mistakes, let alone churn out an apology from her, is like a failed rocket mission to Mars!

Age and experience do not always make perfectionists out of everyone, right? But my mother-in-law is...quite different! Her eye for perfection in everything, even how I should serve her a glass of water, and her judgmental attitude were my fear factors.

But Eric would never understand any of that. For him, his mother was always right, and she should be home for Thanksgiving. That's it. My kids got fed up with our heated debate in the kitchen and came up with an idea.

"Mom, Dad, why don't we have Grandma Vivian and Granny Paula over for Thanksgiving? That way, we'd spend more time with both our grannies!"

I looked Eric in the eye. He knew what I was thinking. "No, bad idea!" I immediately blurted out before Eric could say anything.

The thing is, my Mom and his Mom are poles apart. Think Tom and Jerry under the same roof! At least the fictional cat and mouse extend an olive branch at some point. But my Mom and mother-in-law would keep fighting all the time for the silliest and craziest of things.

So, I knew I had to convince my kids that it was a bad idea. "No, babies. You see, Granny Paula and Grandma Vivian are..."

"Nightmares!" Eric finished the sentence for me.

"Why would you say so?" Shaun looked up at Eric.

Eric was visibly upset. I could see that. "Well, Shaun, it's like you and Evan at school. You boys are in the same class, but you don't talk to each other and keep fighting all the time."

"Yeah, that's because we hate each other!"

"Bingo!!" Eric snapped his fingers and laughed while staring unkindly at me.

I understood he was mad at me. But was there a chance he'd change his mind? Would he still consider inviting only my Mom for this Thanksgiving? The answer to my question arrived that very night when Eric grabbed his phone and invited his mother over for the feast.

My husband's decision pushed me to the edge of the cliff. The very thought of having my Mom and his Mom over for the feast gave me goosebumps.

I had already promised Mom she wouldn't have to spend Thanksgiving alone this year. I knew she would be anticipating my call. How could I let her down? How could I pluck myself together to tell her Vivian would be home with us around the same time?

With the warmth of the morning sun embracing our home, I stood by the window and called my mother the following day. After a hearty conversation, I invited her. Mom was thrilled, and I could feel her excitement.

"That warms my heart, dear. I'm looking forward to seeing you...and my grandchildren. What can I bring?" she asked.

My heart started feeling heavier because I still hadn't told Mom my mother-in-law would be there, too. "Just yourself and your amazing chicken casserole recipe!" I laughed. "We're going to make this Thanksgiving one to remember!"

I could hear Mom chuckling before she hung up. She sounded so happy. It pricked my heart for not telling her everything, and I only hoped Thanksgiving this year would go perfectly well. As I finished talking and turned around, Eric was standing right behind me, staring daggers.

"You sure you wanna do this, Andy? You very well know how they don't like being around each other," he said, his tone unpleasant.

"Okay, so do you want me to disinvite my mother, Eric? Do you want to leave my Mom alone when everybody is enjoying the feast?" I asked him.

"Alone? You mean like how you wanted to disinvite my mother this holiday season? I feel so sorry for her."

"Feel sorry? For who, Vivian? Don't forget your mother is the one who always criticizes everyone. No one can live up to her impossible standards. God, she's so demanding, and you're saying you feel sorry for her?"

"I'm not listening!" Eric put his headphones on and stormed out.

I understood how much he disliked it when I told him about his mother. But I didn't lie. You see, sometimes, the truth hurts, and this was one of those bitter truths about his mother that Eric needed to embrace with an open mind.

Besides, I know no one would like their mother to be called 'demanding,' ' judgmental,' or 'rude.' But that's just how Vivian was! I know her well because I've known her throughout the 15 years of my marriage.

With two days left for Thanksgiving, I heard loud honking outside our suburban home. My heart started to race like horses galloping on an open field after a gunfire. My mother-in-law, Vivian, had arrived.

I could see a big, fat smile dancing on Eric's face when his mother walked in. He looked at me, and before he asked anything, I wore a smile as my mother-in-law walked in with her arms spread wide.

"Mom, I missed you so much!" Eric hugged his mother as I watched like a nervous fan in a soccer stadium. "Look at you, girl! You look gorgeous!"

"Awww, I missed you so much, my Lion! I'm so glad to see you!" Vivian chirped.

Oh please...Lion? Who, Eric? You gotta be kidding! He's just a submissive little pocket dog whenever he's around his Mom! I thought and controlled my laughter while gazing at my mother-in-law.

I stood smiling, hoping Vivian would notice me and hug me. If not, at least ask how I was doing. But the first thing she did was ignore me, march straight into the kitchen, and frown.

"Oh my goodness! What is this mess, darling?" Vivian scowled at her son. "This kitchen looks like a dumpster after the dogs fought for leftovers!"

I was in the middle of doing the chores when she arrived. I still had a lot left to do. Kitchens are supposed to be messy when you have quite a big family and a little dog to cook for. I still went to sleep daily only after doing the dishes and making sure the kitchen was prim and proper.

"Doesn't anyone clean around here?" Vivian said, giving me a piercing stare. The way she looked at me was so menacing, as though she was going to slice me in half by just using her eyes.

I turned to Eric, but as always, he was standing there, smiling, like nothing happened. So, I knew I had to jump in self-defense before Vivian hurled another verbal missile my way.

"I usually clean up after dinner, Vivian," I said with a broad smile, despite knowing it would not go too well with my mother-in-law, who always looked for reasons to put me down.

"You should come to my home someday and see how I always keep my kitchen sparkling!" she frowned. "People judge you by your surroundings! Looking at the condition of this awful kitchen! You might want to consider working a little more at home…maybe bend and flex your lazy bones a little! It might help lose a little fat and also get the work done!"

I sighed. My day was off to a disastrous start. I braced myself and cradled my baby in my arms while Vivian retired to the guest room with a satisfied grin after fat-shaming me and calling me lazy.

My heart pounded when she returned to the kitchen moments later and started interfering with my cooking. I was just about to finish stuffing the turkey when Vivian grabbed the tray and said she would be the one trussing the roast.

"Oh, you might want to watch me prepare the turkey," Vivian said, rechecking the stuffing.

"Actually, I've been using my Grandma's recipes to prepare Thanksgiving dinner. And it turns out just fine!" I turned around and gave Vivian a befitting yet polite reply.

But Vivian hated no for an answer and frowned. "Whatever!" she shrugged and got occupied with trussing the turkey.

I quietly stepped back and started adding the final touches to my Grandma's pumpkin pie when Vivian dropped the tray with the roast on the floor. My heart sank. It had taken me two hours to finish the whole thing, and now, everything was scattered around my feet.

"Oh, the tray was greasy and small. You should've put the turkey in a bigger one!" Vivian grinned.

"Oh, no! That's okay, Vivian. It was just a trial run to ensure I got the flavors right before Thanksgiving. Don't worry about that!" I was kind and polite enough to let it go this time, though I was pretty upset.

"Alright, clean the mess!" Vivian told me. Just as she approached the fridge, she stormed out and raced to the living room to tell my kids off for shouting and having the TV volume so loud.

"Whoa! Is this a house or a zoo?" Vivian yelled at my children. "Can't you kids keep it down? Monkeys have more manners, I swear!"

Now, that was such a mean thing to tell kids, and I wish I could've told Vivian off then and there. But Eric was home, and it would be two against one because he always sided with his mother. So, I chose to stay quiet while trying to convince Vivian that the kids had only six hours of screen time every week.

"It is not fine! Look at what you're raising, girl?" she yelled. "These good-for-nothing TV shows are spoiling your children. Too much screen time will rot their brains. When I was of their age, I learned to cook and clean. God, is this dump even a home?"

Oh my God, that was so shocking. How could Vivian say this to me? How could she be so mean to my kids?

Children are supposed to enjoy their childhood. If not now, then when? I just wanted to give my kids a holiday to remember, and a little extra screen time wouldn't hurt, especially during the holiday season.

But Vivian clung to her old stereotypical views, and I could see she was slowly trying to impose her strict rules and traditions on my kids.

I rolled my eyes at my kids to keep the noise down and followed my mother-in-law into the kitchen. Just as I finished cleaning the mess Vivian had made, she dipped her finger into the bowl of cranberry sauce, tasted it, and spat it into the sink.

"Is this one of your Grandma's recipes, girl?" she asked in an unpleasant tone.

"Why yes. What's wrong, Vivian?" I nervously asked as Vivian tossed a lemon slice into the sauce bowl.

"It tastes so bland. Did you forget to add some lemon juice? I've never tasted such awful cranberry sauce in my life. And you call this a Thanksgiving dish? Disgusting!"

I wished Vivian could've been a little kinder. Not only did she dip her dirty finger into a whole bowl of cranberry sauce, but she called it disgusting.

I would have kept quiet if it were a dish that I tried making after watching recipe videos online. But it was my late Grandma's recipe. I was so happy I got it right after so many trials. Dishonoring the dish I made following her recipe would be like disrespecting her, and I clearly wouldn't allow that.

"It tastes fine, Vivian. I serve this to Eric all the time. He loves it. The kids, my neighbors, everyone loves it!" I said, feigning a smile because I was so frustrated and wished I could dunk Vivian's head into the bowl of cranberry sauce until she screamed, 'Sorry!'

"Oh, Eric loves this thing?" Vivian smirked, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, and he never complains," I replied, a small smile playing on my lips.

"Well, that's because I raised Eric to be polite," Vivian chuckled, rolling her eyes.

Oh, well, I stood speechless. I could no longer argue with Vivian, and even if I did, I would end up hurting my own back.

So I quietly grabbed the bowl of cranberry sauce before Vivian could criticize further. Just as I started assembling the herbs needed for the new turkey roast, the doorbell buzzed.

My heart raced when I quickly hurried to the door after seeing Mom's missed calls on my phone. But before I could answer the door, Vivian overtook me. God, she was so fast for her age!

"No, no, no! I'll get it," I said. But my pleas fell on deaf ears as Vivian opened the door and stood still at seeing my mother Paula on the other side.

"YOU?? What are you doing here?" Vivian asked my mother. She turned to me and Eric, who barged out of the room to see who it was.

"Vivian?" My Mom's smile faded when she saw my mother-in-law.

Eric and I exchanged a glance, and I knew I had to do something before my Mom and Vivian started their cat-and-mouse fight in the house. So I quickly rushed to my mother outside and hugged her.

"Mom, I missed you so much!" I cried out of joy.

"Oh, my baby, I missed you too!" Mom said while I fixed my gaze on Vivian. She was so disappointed and unhappy about Mom's arrival.

"What is she doing here?" Vivian spared no second in asking Eric and me the question. "You never told me she would be visiting."

"What am I doing here? What in the world are YOU doing here?" My Mom snapped at Vivian.

My Mom and mother-in-law were almost on the brink of starting a war when I stepped in and cleared my throat before saying, "Well, Mom, I should've informed you that Vivian would be coming, too! Look, I'm sorry for not telling you. Eric and I thought we'd invite you both over for the holiday because we missed you so much."

Fine, I lied at that moment. Eric didn't want my Mom over for Thanksgiving. But how could I break it to her? Eric squared his shoulders and left everything up to me to handle now.

Vivian was clearly not okay with having my Mom around and talked Eric into sending my mother away to a hotel room. I was so annoyed and knew that if my husband didn't side with me this time, there would be no Thanksgiving at all.

"There's no need for a hotel room, Mom! We have another guest room that's free. Paula can stay there!" Eric miraculously said and brought the lost smile back on my face.

"Yeah, Mom, let me help you with your luggage," I said, leading Mom to the guest room before Vivian thought of more ways to get rid of my mother from my house.

I woke up earlier than usual the next day. It was the morning of Thanksgiving. The golden rays of sunlight filtered through the lace curtains as Eric groggily turned to his side, annoyed with me for drawing the blinds.

I entered the kitchen, and Mom was already there, humming one of our favorite Elvis Presley songs while pouring black coffee into my cup. We laughed and chatted about all the crazy things we did while trying out new recipes back home when Vivian barged into the kitchen and smiled unkindly at us.

"Some guests forget their boundaries!" she frowned, making her way to the kettle. "You two are up already, early birds! I better get started on my pumpkin cheesecake."

I exchanged a glance with Mom because I didn't want her to get started as well, that too on such a beautiful morning we all had been anticipating.

"Pumpkin cheesecake? Do we have space for that in the oven, honey?" my Mom turned to me when I least expected her to talk. "I don't think so! Our pumpkin and pecan pies go first...followed by roast turkey, casserole, and Moussaka!"

Now, my Mom's reply didn't go too well with Vivian.

"Mosaic, what?" She exclaimed.

"Moussaka—it's a Greek-inspired casserole made with eggplant, minced meat, tomatoes, and béchamel sauce," my Mom replied as she took the marinated minced meat and assembled the ingredients in a bowl.

"Well, it doesn't sound like a traditional American dish to me!" Vivian hissed.

"How about you take it easy, woman? Life's too short for the serious stuff all the time, you know? Let's chill a little this Thanksgiving. Besides, a little mix-up of traditions wouldn't hurt!" My Mom gave Vivian a befitting reply.

"Yeah, life's too short. You may never know who's gonna kick the bucket soon!" Vivian snapped back.

I knew where this was heading and was not prepared to watch my peaceful kitchen turn into a battleground.

"Okay, ladies, cut it! You know what, Vivian, why don't you go and check what the kids are doing? I guess they haven't woken up yet. Go wake them up...show them your Grandma's powers!" I said, feigning a polite smile.

Vivian stormed away with a triumphant grin because she liked it when she was given the authority to rule over my kids and the house. When she got my word, her joy, and pride surpassed all boundaries.

So now that Vivian was gone and time was running out, Mom and I started our Thanksgiving meal preparations. But our joy was cut short when Vivian returned moments later and demanded space in the oven to make her pumpkin cheesecake.

"I don't care what you two are going to make. I want my pumpkin cheesecake to go first, and that's it," she declared.

I knew Vivian would not settle down with a no for an answer. Moreover, I didn't want to spoil all our moods with Vivian launching her tantrums. So, I politely agreed.

"Alright, Vivian! You can make your pumpkin cheesecake once the turkey roast and casserole are ready, okay? I don't think there would be enough space in the oven for all the dishes to go in at once," I said.

Vivian frowned. She was unhappy because she wanted her dish to go first. She wanted only her dish to rule the dining table and make it to Eric's stomach and heart again this year.

"Hell with it! I don't want to make any goddamn cheesecake!" Vivian lashed out at us and stormed out of the kitchen.

Mom and I sighed and busied ourselves with the meal preparations. The oven was loaded with delicious turkey roast, casserole, and all the wonderful dishes Mom and I made using Grandma's recipes.

I was so excited and couldn't wait to plate the dishes at the table and surprise my husband and kids, and of course, my Mom and Vivian. That's when I got this phone call from a friend and had to step away from the kitchen for a while.

My Mom left with me, saying she wanted to wash up and get ready for the traditional gathering at the altar before proceeding with the meal.

I wish I could've stayed a little longer in the kitchen or not gone away to chat with my friend had I known Vivian was brewing a wicked plan as soon as she noticed Mom and me leaving the kitchen.

The next thing I knew, ten minutes later, my kitchen was a mess. The smoke alarm went off, and Eric rushed in with an extinguisher, yelling at me for being so careless.

"Hey, wait a minute, why the hell did you set the oven to 500 degrees?" Eric barked at me. "Were you cooking or smelting iron?"

I was shocked. Shaken. Spooked. I was a blend of all the horrifying feelings in the world when I checked the oven's temperature settings.

"No, honey, I had left it at 300 degrees. I have no idea how it reached 500 degrees," I gasped in disbelief and grabbed my pot holders, coughing because of all the smoke.

My heart sank like a stone when I took out a tray with the burnt turkey. My Grandma's signature pumpkin pie was burnt beyond recognition. My Mom's Moussaka looked like a big, black chunk of smoking hot charcoal.

"Honey, what's wrong? Oh my God, what happened?" My Mom came running and froze at seeing all the mess.

"Mom, I left it at 300 degrees. Did you change it?" I asked her.

"No, no, dear. Why would I? I left the kitchen with you. I came running because I heard you guys screaming. How did this happen?"

That's when my gaze shifted to Vivian—she was standing silently in the kitchen, facing the other side, pretending nothing happened.

I knew then and there that this was her doing, and I was so mad at her.

How could she ruin my Thanksgiving? My whole family was excited about this day. She sabotaged everything. What would I tell my kids? They loved the roast turkey so much and had invited some of their friends over. What would I tell them? I was so crushed and angry...and emotional.

"Vivian, why did you do this?" I asked my mother-in-law.

I knew Eric would try to stop me from accusing his mother. But I knew this was her doing, and there was no forgiveness this time.

While Eric was murmuring something, asking me to stop, I stormed to Vivian and confronted her. "Vivian, answer me, did you raise the temperature?"

"Andrea, what are you doing...stop doing this," Eric whispered.

"No, stay out of this, Eric. I'm not doing this anymore. I want her to answer me. Vivian, did you do this?" I stood my ground.

My mother-in-law burst into a sheepish chuckle and waved her hands. "Oh, I just came for a glass of water when I noticed the Moussaka or whatever was a bit undercooked. So I just raised the temperature a little...just a little!"

"A little? You raised the goddamn temperature to 500 degrees and almost set my kitchen on fire, you freak. Are you out of your mind?" I yelled at Vivian.

I know I shouldn't have said that. I would never be so rude to anyone, no matter what. But what Vivian did pushed me to the edge, and I lost it.

Come on, I'm a human being made of emotions, sentiments, and feelings. My mother-in-law played with it all. She was taking me for granted. She took my silence and patience for a ride and was turning Eric against me. And now, she turned my Thanksgiving into a disaster. What was next?

While words to tell Vivian off were stuck in my throat, I noticed my Grandma's precious recipe book with missing pages on the table.

"Oh my God! What did you do, Vivian? Why did you tear up my Grandma's recipes?" I yelled at my mother-in-law.

"I accidentally spilled water on the book. A few pages in the middle were smudging the ink on the others, so I had to tear off those pages and dispose of them," Vivian casually reasoned, squaring her shoulders.

It was so unfair. I knew she hadn't dropped water. There was not a drop of water on the counter. She did it intentionally. I knew it.

"How could you do this? It was my late Grandma's recipe book. It was the only handwritten memory I had of her. How could you destroy something of so much sentimental value to me?" I lashed out at Vivian, tears ready to spring from my eyes.

My kids rushed into the kitchen, and I swallowed the rest of the unspoken words and my tears because I didn't want to set a bad example in front of my children.

"Mom, what about Thanksgiving dinner?" Shaun disappointedly asked, seeing the burnt turkey roast on the table.

"There's NO THANKSGIVING this year! Thanks to your Grandma Vivian!" I declared and stormed out of the kitchen.

I locked myself inside for the rest of the day. My neighborhood was filled with laughter and festive joy. But my own house was a mess. I finally broke down and curled up on the bed, crying.

"Andrea, open the door! Let's sort this out. We'll order something, okay? Please, open the door!" Eric shouted.

I opened the door and sat back on the bed.

"Honey, please calm down. We'll order dinner. It's not a problem at all, okay?" Eric said.

Even now, he was thinking of an alternate solution instead of asking his mother to draw boundaries. I don't understand what it would cost him to make his mother realize that she needs to respect people and not take things for granted.

I'm sorry to say this—but my husband turned out to be a mama's boy.

Whatever his mother did was right, and I was always wrong. Even if his Mom set the house on fire, Eric would still be okay with it because, you know, Vivian is his MOTHER! Wow!

While I wanted to make Thanksgiving a memorable day, it was memorable for the unhappiest and most awful reasons.

The next day, Mom left for her hometown, patting my back and asking me to just let it go. She didn't utter a word to Vivian because Mom understood it would spark an unwanted argument.

Two hours later, Vivian assembled her luggage on the porch and waited for the taxi to take her to the airport. Eric was busy talking to her while I chose to stay in the living room.

"Honey, Mom's leaving. Aren't you coming to say goodbye?" Eric approached me minutes later.

"My head hurts, Eric. I'm not coming outside," I dismissed.

It was my heart that actually ached. I was in emotional bits and pieces. I was still not out of the sabotaged Thanksgiving. I did not wish to see Vivian or watch her leaving our house with a big, fat smile flickering on her face after ruining everything.

"Andrea, I hugged your mother goodbye when she left. Why don't you just forget what happened and say goodbye to my Mom? She doesn't deserve to be treated like this!" Eric snapped at me.

I lost it. "Oh, really? You expect me to forget what she did? No, I won't! Not this time!" I barked.

"Fine! Do as you wish. You know what? I'm tired of your daughter-in-law and mother-in-law war! I'm leaving in three weeks for Mom's place for the holidays. I'm taking the kids with me. I need some peace," Eric yelled and hurried out of the house.

I was so mad at Eric for still not understanding how hurt I was and for siding with his mother even now. Not that I wanted to create a wedge between the mother and son. But people need to respect each other's boundaries, and Vivian had surpassed all, leaving no stone unturned in ridiculing me and my parenting.

Three weeks later, Eric loaded his and the kids' suitcases into the taxi trunk. I stopped him. "Wait, you have two more to go!" I said, wheeling my luggage towards the cab.

Eric was stunned. He thought I would never go to his Mom's place for Christmas. What would I do alone on Christmas without my family? So, I decided to go, steeling myself to face my mother-in-law again.

"Honey, you're going with us?" he excitedly asked. Eric was so happy.

"Yes!" I said.

"That's great news! Mom would be so happy to see you. I bet this Christmas is gonna be one memorable day for all of us!"

I smiled and got into the taxi. But at that moment, I had no revenge plans to get back at Vivian for ruining my Thanksgiving until I arrived at her house and noticed party preparations were underway a week before Christmas.

Vivian ran to Eric and greeted him with a beaming smile upon our arrival. "Oh, darling, you won't believe the news! I've just grabbed the grandest order for New Year's cakes. It's a huge opportunity, and my clients are flocking to taste my signature cakes this Christmas!"

Oh, so that's what all the party plans were about! I thought. My mother-in-law ran a small bakery in town where she sold all these delicious goodies and cakes.

I must admit—Vivian is a great baker! Maybe that's why she's always proud of herself and her culinary skills. But I could not stand her laughing after ruining my Thanksgiving and still not apologizing for it.

"Mom, that's incredible! Congratulations, girl! Your cakes are truly a sensation!" Eric went on and on about his mother. I could literally see Vivian floating in the air like a balloon, pride consuming her.

"Thank you, sweetheart! I've arranged a special cake-tasting event to give everyone a sneak peek. The buzz around my cakes is spreading like wildfire. This could be the breakthrough I've been waiting for to set up a new franchise in New York!" Vivian bragged.

I cleared my throat and coughed to snap Eric and Vivian out of it and let them know I was there.

"Oh, glad to see you, Andrea!" Vivian approached me and hugged me, pressing her cheeks against mine.

Jeez, how could she be so normal...and happy, after sabotaging my feast? I furrowed my brows, faking a smile.

"I'm glad to see you too, Vivian!" I replied.

When I entered her house, it gave me this truly magical feeling. Colorful balloons and banners adorned every corner—twinkling lights draped around the room. A huge Christmas tree stood tall by the fireplace, decorated with ornaments and those cute little Santa trinkets my kids loved.

The aroma of freshly baked ginger cookies wafted through the air, and for a moment, it felt like I was stepping into a Christmas fairy tale.

A few days passed. Vivian was always occupied with her upcoming tasting event, which was relieving because she didn't have the time to bother me, boss me around, or criticize me.

Soon, it was Vivian's much-awaited morning of—Christmas!

The house stirred awake as the sweet melody of "Jingle Bells" on Vivian's home theater echoed through the air. Everyone hugged each other, exchanging Christmas wishes and presents. My kids looked so adorable in their red and white pajamas and reindeer-printed tees.

"Merry Christmas, everyone!" Vivian chirped her wishes.

The festival kicked off on a wonderful note as my mother-in-law hurried to her kitchen to finish her signature cakes.

That afternoon, the party got into full swing in Vivian's luxurious villa. She bragged about all the dishes she'd made, and in the background, she was busy bossing her housekeepers around, feigning politeness in front of her guests to ensure everyone was served promptly and with precision.

"I baked the cakes myself. They're my signature cakes, after all!" she boasted while I stood in a corner, watching the guests flock to the party.

Melodious music rolled in the background as the unsuspecting guests basked in the festive atmosphere, excitedly tasting Vivian's renowned cakes.

"Mrs. Phil's cakes are truly magical. I feel so...energized!" said a guest, one of Vivian's esteemed clients, as he took another slice of her signature Caramel Delight cake from the tray.

"Oh, yes! I've never tasted a Christmas cake quite like this. It's so amazing. I wonder what secret ingredient she adds to her cakes!" added another.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're enjoying my cakes!" Vivian chuckled. She was so thrilled and excited to see her clients' happy faces. Vivian beamed with pride, unaware of the bombshell that was going to drop on her in mere minutes.

Amid the festive chatter and laughter, the guests who relished Vivian's cakes started showing signs of discomfort.

"Whoa, Mrs. Phil, your cakes are truly different!" one of them said.

"I'm so glad to hear that, Mr. Rodrigues! When can we sign the contract for New Year's orders?" Vivian chirped.

"I'm starting to feel a bit strange! I think I need to use the bathroom...urgently. Where is it?" Mr. Rodrigues said.

"The bathroom's that way," Vivian showed him the bathroom, her smile slowly fading.

"Goodness gracious! Mrs. Phil, kindly excuse me for a minute," he said as he held his stomach and wobbled his way upstairs. It was so funny to see him walk like that, and I had to pinch myself to control my laughter!

Soon, there was comical chaos as guests, one by one, started feeling uneasy and flocked around Vivian, asking her to show them the restroom.

"Oh my! Is everyone okay? What's happening?" She asked them. But nobody had the patience or time to answer and were busy running around, looking for vacant bathrooms.

Every toilet in my mother-in-law's house was occupied and echoed with non-stop flushing sounds.

"Mrs. Phil, your cakes are a hit...but I think they're hitting us back!" Mr. Rodrigues, who had just returned from using the toilet for the third time in a row, said, rushing back to the bathroom again.

"I never expected a cake to make me feel like this, Mrs. Phil. I need to see my doctor!" another guest told Vivian and hurried to his car, holding his stomach.

I stopped my kids from having my mother-in-law's cakes. But I chose not to stop Eric because he deserved a bite of that Caramel Delight for always siding with his mother and not taking a stand for me whenever she criticized me.

"Hey, honey, where are you going?" Eric asked me after seeing me leave the room.

"Uh, nowhere, babe. I just want to go outside and get some fresh air. It's so stuffy here. I'll be back in a heartbeat!" I said and walked out of the house.

Eric was too engrossed in eating the cake while I hurried to the dumpster outside and discreetly disposed of the tiny bottle containing remnants of a laxative.

"I'm so sorry everyone. I just added a mild dose to the cake batter, and the effects shouldn't last more than a couple of hours!" I discreetly whispered an apology to all those guests who had to rush to the toilet after tasting my mother-in-law's cake.

A triumphant smile lit up my face. I watched Vivian stand bewildered in the party hall as her guests left one by one, condemning her. Later that evening, she got a call from her client, Mr. Rodrigues.

"What? No, Mr. Rodrigues...please, give me another chance. There's got to be a mistake. Please, this is a life-changing order. Please reconsider your decision. Please don't cancel it," I overheard my mother-in-law plead with her angry client for serving him a laxative-infused Christmas cake!

I know what I did was extremely wrong, but was what my mother-in-law did right? She sabotaged my Thanksgiving, and I needed to show her what a ruined holiday feels like. With a sense of triumph, I left for the airport with my husband and kids the next day.

"Did you taste Mom's cake, Andy? I wonder what she put in that Caramel Delight that cost her that big order! She's so upset. Even I had a slice of that cake. It was delicious, but I ended up running to the toilet at least seven times!" Eric said on the flight back home.

"I was about to have a bite, but after witnessing so much chaos in the party, I decided not to!" I replied and turned to look out the plane window, discreetly chuckling, as the flight took off.

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While dealing with an unhappy marriage, Michael cheats on his wife and goes on a blind date, only to see his mother-in-law there. Here's the full story.

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