While preparing for her husband’s birthday celebration, woman becomes the target of her mother-in-law’s ploy

We often hear stories in which mothers-in-law are depicted as evil. Sadly, they sometimes really are and the reason behind it might be that they feel like their daughters-in-law ‘steal’ their sons from them.

A woman named Janisse shared the story of how her MIL plotted against her in order to turn her husband against her.

It was Janisse’s husband’s birthday and she was looking forward to the party she was preparing for him. She planned to invite all of Carl’s friends and family and wanted everything to go according to plan.

But just as she was getting ready to start preparing the food, Carl’s mother, Sally, called her and told her she wanted to help her with the preparations.

As Janisse always got along with her husband’s family, or at least she thought so, she told her MIL that she was more than welcome to lend her a helping hand.

When Sally arrived, she did help with the food, but in the afternoon, she started acting weird. As she was digging around the fridge and sighed every few minutes, she accused Janisse of not purchasing certain ingredient she needed for some special cookies.

“I can’t find any ingredients for the cookies I wanted to make. I told you that I would make the cookies I’ve made every year for Carl,” Sally said.

“We have so many desserts and the cake as well. So, I think it’s okay. We can do it another day for him,” Janisse told her.

“Janisse,” Sally sighed. “It’s really important to me, okay? It’s a tradition I started when Carl was only three years old. Can you go out and get the ingredients?”

As there was not much time left until the guests were about to arrive, Janisse decided to go to the store, which wasn’t that far, and grab the ingredients her MIL needed.

On her way home, Janisse felt like a superhero because she knew the party would be a great one, but her joy was short lived.

The moment Janisse opened the car’s door, Carl burst out of the house like she’d committed a crime and he wanted to catch her in the act. He accused her of leaving his mother all alone to prepare everything for the party. When she explained that wasn’t the case and it wasn’t as it looked like, he told her she wasn’t telling the truth.

Janisse tried to tell him that she was the one who prepared most of the food and that she only took a short trip to the store to grab the ingredients for the traditional cookies his mom made for him, but he said there were no such cookies and that she was childish to believe that ‘cookie tradition.’

Still unaware what was going on, Janisse went to her room. She had a quick shower and shortly after the guests started to arrive.

Carl avoided Janisse all evening, and when the time came for the cake to be served it was Sally who brought it to the table and started singing “Happy Birthday.”

Sally acted as though she was host and it looked like she was the one who was throwing the party for her son, not Janisse.

When the guests left and Janisse and Carl were alone, she tried to explain what really happened and that his mom plotted against her, but he didn’t want to listen because he was certain his mom would never do such a thing.

The following morning, Carl woke Janisse up and apologized for not trusting her. Janisse was puzzled and asked him what made him change his mind about the entire situation. He then explained that his mother was bragging to someone about her master plan, but she accidentally sent the message to Carl.

Carl then went to the other room, in which his mom spent the night, and tried to talk to her in order to learn why she would do such a horrible thing. It turned out that contrary to what Janisse believed, her MIL didn’t really like her because of her political and religious beliefs. Janisse was shocked because her MIL never mentioned anything about it before.

However, no matter what Sally did, Carl and Janisse decided to forgive her eventually.

“We’re going to Bali to celebrate your birthday next year,” I told him. “No friends, no family, and absolutely no drama!” Janisse told her husband.

My Wife’s Daughters Demanded I Fund Their Weddings — I Taught Them a Lesson in Family Values

Jack always believed that love transcended monetary value, yet his daughters seemed fixated solely on finances. When they insisted he cover their wedding expenses, his heart sank. Determined to instill a deeper understanding of family and respect, Jack decided it was time they learned a valuable lesson.

Hey everyone, Jack here, age 55. Let’s cut to the chase: what’s more important, love or money? You’d probably say love, right? Unfortunately, that’s where my story turns bittersweet. My daughters, well, they opted for MONEY…

About fifteen years ago, my wonderful wife Mary ended things with her unfaithful ex. We’ve been blissfully married for a decade, and she brought along three incredible daughters from her previous marriage. I embraced them wholeheartedly from the start.

Lily, the oldest, bonded with me quite quickly. We weren’t exactly two peas in a pod, but she’s always shown kindness and been there for us, particularly during tough times.

As for Sandra and Amelia? It was a different story. I did my utmost, truly. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, they viewed me through the lens of their biological father—judging me by my income, the car I drove, and even my appearance.

Their coldness was evident, but I didn’t let it deter me. I supported them through college, provided for their needs, and fulfilled my role as a father, hoping my efforts would eventually warm their hearts.

Interaction was limited, primarily during holidays. But then, out of the blue, both called me, almost simultaneously. Here’s how it went down:

“Jack,” they began eagerly, “we’ve decided on a double wedding! And, well…”

I could almost hear the dollar signs in their tone.

“And?” I prodded, my stomach knotting in anticipation.

“We want you to pay for them,” they stated matter-of-factly, as if it were the most natural request in the world.

My teeth clenched so tightly, I thought I might crack a molar. Finance their weddings? The audacity!

Understand, the issue wasn’t the money. I’ve always seen them as my daughters, regardless of their feelings towards me. But their entitled demeanor? That cut deep.

“Why should I?” I asked, struggling to keep my composure.

“Well,” Sandra retorted, “you paid for Lily’s, didn’t you?”

Lily’s wedding was a different scenario altogether. She had never demanded anything; she hadn’t approached me with expectations. But when she needed help, I was there, ready to support her with a smile.

These two, however, had consistently compared me unfavorably to their biological father and criticized my efforts. Yes, their indifference hurt, but it never stopped me from loving them as my own. Still, I wasn’t just an ATM.

“What about your father?” I queried, clinging to a sliver of hope for some reasonableness.

“He says it’s too pricey for him,” Amelia replied with a tinge of entitlement. “So, since you’re better off, it falls to you, right?”

I was tempted to lash out, to spell out just how disrespectful and entitled they were behaving. But then, a spark of an idea hit me. Perhaps this was an opportunity to teach them something crucial about love, respect, and the true essence of family.

“Alright,” I said calmly, “let’s discuss this face-to-face. Come over tomorrow night, and we’ll talk it over.”

Their agreement was swift, tinged with excitement. They thought they had me cornered, but little did they know, I was about to turn the tables.

The following night, as the doorbell rang, I opened the door to find Sandra and Amelia laden with shopping bags, takeaway peeking out from the top.

“Hey, Jack!” Sandra greeted with a contrived smile. “Brought dinner—Thai, your favorite.”

Amelia corrected her, “It’s Pad Thai, not just Thai.”

I ushered them in, maintaining a neutral expression. “Welcome. But before we eat, we need to address this wedding situation.”

We settled into the living room, the food momentarily forgotten. I took a deep breath and laid out my thoughts.

“I’ve supported both of you through college, yet I’ve often felt underappreciated. Now, you expect me to finance your weddings. Why do you think that’s fair?”

An uncomfortable silence followed. Sandra and Amelia exchanged looks, having a silent conversation.

“Well,” Sandra finally said, “you helped with Lily’s wedding. It’s only fair you do the same for us, right?”

“Fairness has nothing to do with it,” I replied. “Lily has always been respectful and grateful. She never assumed I would just provide. You two, on the other hand, have done nothing but compare me to your father and others, never once treating me as part of the family or even calling me ‘dad.’”

“But we are family,” Amelia interjected, her voice defiant. “You’re supposed to do things for family, right?”

“Family, is it?” I mused, the word bitter on my tongue. “It seems we have different understandings of what that word means. More like strangers under one roof, isn’t it? But since you’re playing the family card, let’s see what that really entails. How about a challenge?”

A mischievous grin spread across my face as I leaned forward. “Here’s the deal. I’ll help with your weddings, but there’s a condition.”

I paused for effect.

“For the next three months, I want you both to live here, contribute around the house, and show me some genuine respect—no comparisons, no negativity, just real effort. If after three months, I see a real change, then the wedding funds are yours. If not, you’ll need to rethink your plans.”

The shock on their faces was palpable. Three months? Living here? This was not what they expected.

“Three months?” Amelia stammered. “But we have plans, jobs, apartments…”

“Those plans can wait,” I said firmly. “This is my offer. Take it or leave it.”

They exchanged a hesitant look, clearly not thrilled with the idea but tempted by the promise of funded weddings.

“Alright,” Sandra finally conceded, “three months. But we’re not doing dishes.”

I chuckled. “Dishes are part of the deal. But think of it this way—at least you’ll have a roof over your heads and some decent meals.”

What followed were weeks of adjustment. Sandra and Amelia were hardly skilled in household chores, and their complaints about daily tasks became a regular occurrence. They also couldn’t resist making passive-aggressive remarks about my taste in home décor.

However, as time passed, a transformation began. They saw the effort I put into maintaining our home, the care I showed in preparing meals, and the dedication I had towards their mother and them, even when it wasn’t reciprocated. They began to help out with chores, initially reluctantly, but with increasing participation. Family dinners, once awkward, became more natural, and conversation flowed more freely.

They started to understand the sacrifices I made, the extra hours I worked to ensure they could live comfortably. Gradually, the walls they had built began to crumble.

By the end of the three months, their attitudes had changed. They no longer viewed me as just an outsider, but as a true part of their family. I saw how they had grown from entitled young women into thoughtful, kind individuals.

One evening, as we gathered around the dinner table, Sandra spoke up, her voice soft.

“Jack,” she began, “these past months have been eye-opening. We’re really sorry for how we’ve treated you. The truth is, our fiancés are pitching in for the wedding, and we’ll be using some of our savings as well.”

“But that’s not all,” Amelia added. “We… we really want you to walk us down the aisle. Our dad was hardly around after the divorce, but you… you’ve always been there. You paid for our education, for Lily’s wedding, and you’ve always stepped up.”

“We’re sorry for not seeing you for who you truly are. We missed out on having a real dad, and realizing that now is painful,” Sandra added, her eyes moist.

Emotions swirled within me as I listened to their heartfelt apologies. They acknowledged my role in their lives, something I hadn’t dared hope for.

“Thank you,” I managed, my voice thick with emotion. “I’d be honored to walk you down the aisle.”

As the wedding day approached, I fulfilled my promise and contributed to their celebrations. But the true gift wasn’t financial—it was the newfound respect and love that had blossomed among us.

Walking my daughters down the aisle, I felt a profound sense of pride not only in their happiness but in the journey we had all undertaken. It was a celebration of not just their love stories but of a family that had grown stronger and more respectful.

Their weddings marked not just a union of hearts but a testament to the power of family, forgiveness, and the unexpected ways love can flourish.

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