My stepdad, Jeff, loved acting like the “man of the house.” He never missed an opportunity to remind us how lucky we were to have a roof over our heads because of him. But when his “special gift” for my mom’s birthday turned out to be a pack of toilet paper, my siblings and I decided it was time to take action. Let’s just say the toilet paper came in handy—but not for the reason Jeff thought.
Jeff had been around since we were kids, and every night, without fail, he’d sit in his worn recliner and say the same thing: “You’re all lucky I’m here, keeping this house running.” My mom, Jane, would nod and smile, trying to keep the peace. She’d learned long ago that avoiding arguments was easier than dealing with Jeff’s huge ego. But we didn’t buy into his self-proclaimed title of “king of the castle.”
Sure, he paid the bills, but he treated my mom like she was beneath him, and that made it hard to respect him. We’d tried talking to Mom about leaving him, but she wouldn’t listen. Eventually, we all grew up and moved out. Anthony went across the country, but Chloe, Lily, and I stayed nearby, checking on Mom as much as we could. But even from a distance, we couldn’t shake the worry.
Then, things took a turn. As Mom’s birthday approached, Jeff wouldn’t stop bragging about the “special gift” he’d bought for her. “This is gonna blow her mind,” he told us with a smug grin. My sisters and I exchanged doubtful glances.
We knew Jeff too well to think this would be anything other than a bad joke. When the big day arrived, we all gathered in the living room, waiting to celebrate. Jeff was practically glowing with pride as he handed Mom a large, beautifully wrapped box. “Go on,” he urged, “open it!”
Mom’s eyes sparkled as she untied the ribbon and peeled back the wrapping paper. But when she saw what was inside, her excitement quickly faded. It was a 12-pack of toilet paper—four-ply, jumbo rolls. “It’s soft, just like you!” Jeff said, slapping his knee and laughing like he’d just told the funniest joke in the world. “And look—four-ply, one for each of your kids! Perfect, right?”
Mom managed a nervous laugh, but I could see her eyes welling up with tears. It wasn’t just a bad gift—it was cruel. Her birthday was supposed to be about celebrating her, but Jeff had turned it into a joke. That was it. We’d had enough. Jeff’s reign as “king of the castle” was officially over.
Two days later, we sprang into action. Chloe, the youngest and most daring of us, had an idea. “Let’s set him up at his happy place,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “He’ll never see it coming.” And just like that, we made a plan to invite Jeff to his favorite Chinese restaurant for a “family dinner.”
We knew he couldn’t resist free food. When Jeff showed up, grumbling about how it was “about time” someone else treated him, we couldn’t help but smile. The restaurant was buzzing, the air thick with the smell of sizzling dishes and spices.
Chloe, ever the actress, played innocent. “Let’s order the Szechuan beef, Kung Pao chicken, and the spiciest mapo tofu they have,” she said, as if she didn’t know what would happen next. “You can handle spicy, right, Jeff?” she asked with fake concern. “Of course,” Jeff boasted, puffing out his chest. “Nothing’s too spicy for a real man.”
The dishes arrived, each one redder than a firetruck and steaming with chili. Jeff dug in, eager to prove his toughness. At first, he exaggerated his enjoyment, moaning like it was the best meal he’d ever had. But soon, his face turned as red as the lanterns hanging above us. Sweat poured down his forehead, and he chugged glass after glass of Coke.
“How’s it going?” Chloe asked sweetly, barely able to keep from laughing. “Just clearing the sinuses,” Jeff gasped, his voice strained. We tried not to laugh, knowing this was just the beginning.
Meanwhile, back at the house, Mom and Lily were busy with a rented U-Haul and a team of movers. They packed up everything Mom owned—her clothes, her keepsakes, her favorite chair. Chloe had insisted they take everything Jeff had ever received from Mom, including his beloved recliner. But the best part? Every single roll of toilet paper in the house.
When Jeff and I finally got back home, his stomach was already grumbling. As soon as he stepped inside, he knew something was off. “Where’s my recliner?” he barked, scanning the living room. “Gone,” Chloe replied casually. “Mom took what’s hers.” Jeff’s face turned crimson as he opened his mouth to yell—but then his stomach let out a loud growl. Clutching his belly, he dashed down the hall. We heard the bathroom door slam.
“WHERE’S THE TOILET PAPER?!” Jeff screamed from behind the door. That was it. We couldn’t hold back anymore. Laughter erupted as we stood in the hallway. “Mom took that too!” I called out. “After all, it’s hers!” From inside the bathroom, we heard Jeff groaning in disbelief. “You can’t leave me like this!” he shouted.
Mom stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “Watch me,” she said. “I’m leaving you, Jeff. I’m taking my things—and my dignity.”
In the days that followed, Jeff called Mom repeatedly, leaving voicemails full of fake apologies. But she didn’t answer. Instead, Chloe had a brilliant idea. On Jeff’s birthday, we sent him a gift—carefully wrapped, of course. It was another jumbo pack of toilet paper, with a note that read: “For a real man.”
Mom moved in with Lily while she figured out what to do next. Anthony, hearing about the prank, called to tell us how proud he was. As for Jeff? He’s still complaining to anyone who’ll listen. But the best part is that Mom is free. For the first time in years, she’s not living under Jeff’s thumb—and we couldn’t be happier.
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