Karen’s Housewarming Surprise
Karen’s housewarming party started off great. Her new home was stunning, with stylish furniture, modern decor, and a massive 75-inch 4K TV taking center stage in the living room. She made sure everyone noticed it, standing proudly next to it like a game show host revealing the grand prize.
“Oh, you have got to see the picture quality!” she gushed, grabbing the remote. She flipped through channels, pausing on a nature documentary. “Look at that detail! The colors! It’s like you’re inside the jungle. Honestly, this TV is the ultimate addition to my home.”
Everyone nodded politely, offering compliments. “Wow, that’s impressive.” “So clear!” “Must have cost a fortune.”
I didn’t think much of it—until later that evening, when Karen cornered me in the kitchen.
—
“So,” she started, her voice light but her expression serious, “when can I expect your $1000 for the TV?”
I blinked. “What?”
She sighed, as if I was the one being difficult. “I bought the TV as my housewarming gift to myself, and I expect everyone to chip in. It cost $4000, so I’m asking $1000 from you, Mom, Dad, and my brother.”
For a second, I thought she was joking. Then I saw the look on her face—completely serious. I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.
“Karen, we never agreed to this,” I said carefully. “We thought housewarming gifts were supposed to be small and thoughtful, not a financial demand.”
“But I already bought it,” she argued, as if that somehow made it my problem. “It’s only fair that everyone contributes.”
I shook my head. “Karen, gifts are voluntary. You don’t just buy something expensive and then expect others to pay for it.”
Her jaw tightened, and I could see the frustration in her eyes. She clearly thought I was being unreasonable. But I wasn’t about to hand over $1000 just because she had decided to treat herself.
I left that night knowing she wouldn’t let this go easily—but I had an idea. If she wanted a lesson on how gifts really worked, I was more than happy to give her one.
—
The next day, I stopped by Karen’s house with a neatly wrapped gift box. She opened the door, her expression lighting up. “Oh, you didn’t have to!” she said, though the excitement in her voice told me she was hoping I had changed my mind.
“I know how much you love your new TV,” I said, handing her the package with a big smile. “So I thought this would be perfect.”
Her fingers tore through the wrapping paper, eager to see what was inside. Then she froze.
It was a universal remote. A cheap, budget-friendly one at that.
Karen’s expression darkened. She held it up like it was a used napkin. “Are you serious?”
“Completely,” I said, my voice full of fake cheerfulness. “Every great TV needs a good remote, right? And this was within our budget. Thoughtful, isn’t it?”
Her face turned red. “I asked for $1000, not this.”
I shrugged. “Like I said, Karen, gifts are about what the giver wants to give, not what the receiver demands. This is what I could afford, and I figured it would go great with your new TV.” I patted her shoulder. “You should be grateful.”
She sputtered, trying to come up with a response, but I didn’t stick around to hear it. I walked out the door, feeling completely satisfied.
—
Later, my husband told me Karen had gone complaining to the rest of the family, but no one took her side.
“She bought the TV without asking anyone,” his mom said bluntly. “She needs to learn that’s not how gifts work.”
My brother-in-law apparently laughed when she told him. “Wait, so you expected us to help pay for your TV? Yeah… no.”
Karen eventually gave up trying to get money from us. And while she never admitted it, I knew my little lesson had worked.
As for the remote?
Well, let’s just say that when I visited a few months later, I noticed it sitting on the coffee table—looking very well-used.
What do you think of the story? Let me know in the comments!
