Our Dad Asked the Whole Family to Buy Mom Kitchen Utensils for Christmas as She’s a ‘Horrible Cook’ — We Decided to Outplay Him

When my brother and I overheard Dad calling Mom “lazy” and mocking her cooking, we knew we couldn’t let it slide. What started as a Christmas gift list turned into a clever plot to teach him a lesson he’d never forget.

I never thought I’d say this, but my family’s Christmas this year felt straight out of a sitcom, except, you know, the kind that makes you grind your teeth first.

A smiling young girl sitting in her room | Source: Midjourney

A smiling young girl sitting in her room | Source: Midjourney

My name’s Stella, I’m fourteen, and my life’s a mix of biology homework, arguing with my sixteen-year-old brother Seth, and trying to keep my sneakers white in a house that’s spotless only because Mom makes sure of it.

My mom is the glue holding us together. She works full-time, does all the laundry and house-cleaning, and still finds the energy to help Seth with his physics projects that, let’s face it, are basically black holes with glitter glue.

A tired-looking woman sits down to rest after doing the house chores | Source: Midjourney

A tired-looking woman sits down to rest after doing the house chores | Source: Midjourney

Dad, on the other hand, considers himself the “man of the house,” which is just a fancy title for doing nothing and watching old action movies. I’m not saying I don’t love him—I do—but he’s a “feet-up, channel-surfing, and passing-commentary-on-everything” kind of guy.

But then Christmas happened, and now Seth and I can’t forget what we heard.

It was two weeks before Christmas, and Seth and I were sneaking through the hallway looking for Mom’s stash of wrapped presents.

Beautifully wrapped Christmas gifts with festive ribbons | Source: Pexels

Beautifully wrapped Christmas gifts with festive ribbons | Source: Pexels

Instead, we caught Dad on the phone with his brother, Uncle Nick. His voice was loud enough to carry through the closed door.

“What to get, Lily?” Dad said, laughing like he was sharing a joke. “Bro, only kitchen stuff. Mixers, blenders, utensils—you know, stuff that’ll make her actually useful in the kitchen. She’s soooo lazy in there.”

I felt my stomach twist. Lazy? Was he kidding? Mom barely sits down. Seth shot me a glance, his jaw clenched. He whispered, “Dad can’t be serious.”

A teenage boy looks surprised and upset | Source: Midjourney

A teenage boy looks surprised and upset | Source: Midjourney

But Dad wasn’t done. “I’m just saying, if she had better gadgets, maybe she wouldn’t be such a horrible cook. It’s not like she’s great at it anyway.”

It felt like the world had tilted sideways. Seth and I weren’t the type to agree on much, but in that moment, we didn’t need words. We had a plan before we even left the hallway.

On Christmas morning, the living room smelled like pine and cookies. Mom had been up since dawn baking, her hair tied in that messy bun she swore was “practical” but always looked perfect.

A closeup shot of a woman decorating a home-backed cupcake with cream | Source: Pexels

A closeup shot of a woman decorating a home-backed cupcake with cream | Source: Pexels

She kept refilling the coffee pot and handing out mugs while Dad lounged by the fire, sipping his hot chocolate like he hadn’t just insulted her existence two weeks ago.

The whole family of 12—grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles—sat in a circle by the tree. Seth and I perched on the couch, biting our lips to keep from grinning too early. One by one, the gifts were unwrapped. The usual stuff: socks, gift cards, and ugly sweaters that no one wanted but everyone pretended to love.

A closeup shot of a woman holding Christmas socks lying a red gift box | Source: Pexels

A closeup shot of a woman holding Christmas socks lying a red gift box | Source: Pexels

Then it was Dad’s turn.

Aunt Patricia handed him the first box. “This one’s from me, Tanner,” she said with a sweet smile.

Dad tore off the paper and blinked. “Oh. A fishing rod. Nice.”

“It’s not just nice—it’s top of the line,” Aunt Patricia said, grinning widely “Thought you’d love it.”

Dad chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah… I do. Thanks.”

But then Seth passed him another box. “Here, Dad. From me.”

Another fishing rod. Dad frowned but forced a smile. “Uh… thanks, son. Really thoughtful.”

A man forcing a smile | Source: Midjourney

A man forcing a smile | Source: Midjourney

I handed him mine next. “Merry Christmas, Dad!” I chirped, sounding as innocent as possible.

He unwrapped it slowly, probably hoping for a wallet or something practical.

His face fell. “Another one?” He laughed nervously. “Wow. Three is a charm, huh?”

Uncle Nick was next, followed by Aunt Claire and even Grandpa. Each gift was the same: a fishing rod. By the time the fifth one was opened, Dad’s smile had turned into a twitching scowl.

“Wait a minute,” he said, his voice rising. “What the hell is this? Fishing rods? Who needs this many fishing rods?”

A closeup shots of fishing rods lying in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A closeup shots of fishing rods lying in a living room | Source: Midjourney

Meanwhile, Mom’s laughter echoed through the living room as she unwrapped the beautifully wrapped designer purse. Seth and I watched as her face lit up, glowing as brightly as the Christmas lights strung around the room.

“Oh my gosh, this purse is beautiful! How did you all know I wanted it?” she asked, running her fingers over the smooth leather.

Uncle Nick grinned from his spot near the fireplace. “We had help. The kids sent us a wishlist.”

A man grins while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A man grins while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

Mom’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked like she might cry. “You two did this?” she whispered, glancing between me and Seth.

We nodded in unison, trying to keep our cool. Seth shrugged, but his grin gave him away. “You deserve it, Mom.”

Her voice broke a little. “Thank you. Both of you. This is the best Christmas I’ve had in years.”

A woman gets happy and emotional while being surrounded by Christmas presents | Source: Midjourney

A woman gets happy and emotional while being surrounded by Christmas presents | Source: Midjourney

I won’t lie, hearing her say that made every second of planning worth it.

Rewind to two weeks ago. Seth and I were furious after overhearing Dad call Mom “lazy” and a “horrible cook.” It was like a switch flipped inside us. That night, we stayed up in Seth’s room, sketching out what we called “Operation Outplay.”

“Okay,” I said, pacing his cluttered room. “First, we need to stop this kitchen gadget nonsense. Mom doesn’t even like cooking; she does it because she has to.”

A thoughtful young girl | Source: Midjourney

A thoughtful young girl | Source: Midjourney

Seth leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “And then we make Dad eat his words. Literally, if we can.”

I smirked. “Let’s start with an email.”

Together, we drafted a message to every family member who had planned to join us for Christmas. The email was simple but clear:

“Hi, this is Stella and Seth. We need your help to make this Christmas special for Mom. Dad asked you to get her kitchen stuff, but we think she deserves better. Here’s a wishlist of gifts she’ll actually love and cherish…”

A young girl smiles while using her laptop | Source: Midjourney

A young girl smiles while using her laptop | Source: Midjourney

We listed things Mom had quietly admired but never bought for herself: that designer bag she had been longing to buy for as long as we could remember, a spa day gift card, her favorite skincare products, a personalized necklace with our names engraved, and the cozy reading chair she’d been eyeing for her tiny library.

We added one final touch. “Instead of getting Dad what he asked for, please buy him fishing rods. As many as possible. Trust us—it’s part of the plan.”

A young girl smiling triumphantly | Source: Midjourney

A young girl smiling triumphantly | Source: Midjourney

The responses rolled in almost immediately. Aunt Patricia wrote back, “Count me in! Lily works so hard, and I’m happy to help.” Grandpa added, “Fishing rod it is. This will be fun!” By the end of the week, every family member was on board.

***

Fast forward to Christmas morning. After Dad’s meltdown over the mountain of fishing rods, Mom’s gifts kept coming. The personalized necklace brought tears to her eyes. “It’s beautiful,” she said, clutching it to her chest. “Thank you, everyone.”

A heart-shaped necklace with the initials "SS" engraved on it | Source: Midjourney

A heart-shaped necklace with the initials “SS” engraved on it | Source: Midjourney

Seth handed her the next box, a spa day gift card. “You need a break, Mom. Go get pampered for once.”

She laughed through her tears. “You two are amazing.”

Meanwhile, Dad was fuming in his armchair, surrounded by his growing pile of fishing rods. His face was a blend of confusion and annoyance. “Will someone please tell me what this nonsense is? Fishing rods? Like, seriously? I don’t even fish!”

Uncle Nick leaned forward, grinning. “We thought you’d want to start, dear brother. You know, since Lily puts so much effort into cooking for you.”

A mean grinning widely | Source: Midjourney

A mean grinning widely | Source: Midjourney

That was the spark that lit the fire.

“This is ridiculous!” Dad snapped, his voice rising. “Where’s all the stuff I told you to get for Lily? The kitchen gadgets? She needs those!”

Mom froze, her smile fading. “You told everyone to get me kitchen stuff?” she asked, her tone sharp.

Seth crossed his arms. “Yeah, Dad said you were ‘lazy in the kitchen’ and needed gadgets to cook faster. We figured you deserved better.”

Dad’s face turned a deep shade of red. “You two—! That’s not what I meant!”

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

“Oh really, Dad?” Seth shot back. “Because it sure sounded like that when you were whining to Uncle Nick about how Mom’s ‘too tired to cook for you.’”

The room went silent. All eyes were on Dad.

Mom’s voice trembled, but it wasn’t from sadness, it was anger. “So, all this time, you’ve been complaining about me behind my back? And the kids had to step in because you couldn’t appreciate me? You’re impossible, Tanner!”

Dad stammered, “I—I was joking!”

“That’s funny,” Mom said, crossing her arms. “Because I’m not laughing.”

An upset woman standing with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman standing with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney

Seth leaned toward me and whispered, “Mom’s about to go nuclear.”

“Good,” I whispered back.

Mom stood, grabbed one of the fishing rods, and placed it firmly in Dad’s lap. “Here. You’ll have plenty of time to ‘joke’ while you’re learning to fish with your new toys.”

Dad opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it. He slumped back in his chair, defeated.

A man sitting back in his chair looking defeated | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting back in his chair looking defeated | Source: Midjourney

The rest of the day was perfect. Mom basked in the love and attention from everyone, while Dad sulked in the corner. That evening, as the chaos died down, Mom pulled Seth and me into a tight hug.

“You two have no idea how much this means to me,” she said softly. “I don’t need fancy things, but knowing you see how hard I work—it’s everything.”

“Of course we see it, Mom,” I said. “We just wanted you to know that we appreciate you. For everything that you’ve done for us.”

A young girl smiling softly | Source: Midjourney

A young girl smiling softly | Source: Midjourney

Seth added, “And we wanted Dad to realize it too. He’ll think twice before calling you lazy again.”

Mom laughed, wiping her eyes. “Gosh! I love you both so much! You are the best. And your plan? Genius. I’m so proud of you, Seth and Stella.”

And the fishing rods? Let’s just say they weren’t gifts; they were a lesson. One Dad wouldn’t forget anytime soon. For starters, he never dared call Mom “lazy” again. Safe to say, our plan worked better than we could’ve hoped, don’t you think?

A teenage boy and girl smile triumphantly | Source: Midjourney

A teenage boy and girl smile triumphantly | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Man Who Asked Me Out Didn’t Realize I Was the ‘Fat Girl’ He Bullied in High School – My Perfect Revenge

When Jen matches with her high school bully on a dating site, she relives the trauma of her childhood. But still, she goes on the date—as a way of getting revenge for how she was treated. The date ends up being a bust, and Jen doesn’t get what she intended, so she plans a second meeting…

I sat at the bar, pretending to be absorbed in my phone as the door swung open and my date walked in. After meeting on a dating app, Justin and I had decided that it was finally time to meet.

Except that Justin and I had met before—just that he didn’t remember it.

A person using her phone | Source: Unsplash

A person using her phone | Source: Unsplash

As he walked in, the familiar jolt of recognition shot through me, but on his face, there was only the casual scan of a man on the lookout for someone who could have been anyone but the girl he once tormented. As he approached, his smile was confident, practiced.

I steeled myself, reminding my racing heart of its role tonight—a new woman, who just wanted revenge.

A smiling man | Source: Unsplash

A smiling man | Source: Unsplash

“Hey, Jen,” he said, sliding into the seat beside me, unaware of the storm he was walking into. “I hope I’m not too late?”

“Not at all,” I replied, my voice steady and sweet. “I was just enjoying the vibe here. This place has changed since the last time I was around.”

People sitting at a bar | Source: Pexels

People sitting at a bar | Source: Pexels

When we had matched on the app, I was convinced that Justin wouldn’t be able to recognize me. Since high school, I had drastically changed—everything from my hair, my weight, and my sense of style.

I was a new person.

“Yeah, it’s got a good crowd tonight,” Justin nodded, waving over a bartender. “Can I get you a drink now?”

People sitting at a bar | Source: Pexels

People sitting at a bar | Source: Pexels

I watched him closely—he had barely changed since the last time I saw him. It had been our high school graduation, followed by a party in an open field. Justin had barely glanced at me. He didn’t register that I was someone who had been attracted to him.

Then, not now.

A group of graduates | Source: Pexels

A group of graduates | Source: Pexels

When we matched, I wasn’t interested in Justin—but after I spoke to my sister, we both thought that messing with Justin would be healing in some way.

“Sure, a gin and tonic, thank you,” I said, watching his face for any sign of recognition. There was none. It was clear as he saw me—I was just another date. Just another woman that he had picked up.

A cocktail with strawberries | Source: Pexels

A cocktail with strawberries | Source: Pexels

As he chatted about his job and recent travels, I nodded along, my mind racing ahead to the plan unfolding around us. The bar was filling up quickly.

Justin continued to speak, and I began to space out—remembering moments from high school.

Students hanging out together | Source: Pexels

Students hanging out together | Source: Pexels

Like the one time when the dull echo of my footsteps in the empty high school corridor seemed louder than usual, reverberating off the lockers with a metallic chill.

I clutched my books tightly to my chest, my eyes downcast, trying to make myself invisible. The memory of Justin’s harsh laughter from earlier that day still stung, a cruel reminder of my daily ordeal.

A close-up of lockers | Source: Pexels

A close-up of lockers | Source: Pexels

As I turned the corner, I could hear the muffled sounds of other students, their voices light and carefree. I approached the bathroom, a temporary refuge where I could gather myself away from prying eyes and sharp tongues.

I could never eat in the cafeteria. They would all look at me and laugh.

Meals on trays | Source: Unsplash

Meals on trays | Source: Unsplash

I remember pushing the bathroom door open, the familiar scent of industrial cleaner mixed with a hint of floral air freshener greeted me. I checked the stalls quickly—empty—and allowed myself a moment to lean against the cool tile wall, exhaling slowly.

The tears came then, quietly at first, then with a shuddering force I couldn’t contain. It wasn’t just the words that Justin had hurled at me—it was the relentless, grinding down of my spirit, day after day.

A bathroom stall | Source: Unsplash

A bathroom stall | Source: Unsplash

Bringing me back to the present, Justin asked if I wanted to leave the bar after our drink and get something to eat at the many food stalls outside. Younger me would never, but I was different now.

As he asked for the bill, Justin began to hound the waitress.

A couple drinking at the bar | Source: Pexels

A couple drinking at the bar | Source: Pexels

“I need you to hurry up,” he told her. “We’ve got places to be and you’re just taking up my time. Could you do your job any slower?”

She blinked back tears and went to get the bill.

“My ex-girlfriend was just like that,” he said, turning to me. “Her eyes would well up whenever I said anything.”

A smiling waitress | Source: Unsplash

A smiling waitress | Source: Unsplash

The evening ended with me leaving Justin outside the bar, claiming that I had a headache and needed to sleep it off.

I was disappointed that I didn’t get my revenge.

At home, I sat with my laptop in bed and decided to take another shot at having my revenge against Justin. I logged onto Facebook and created an event—adding everyone who had gone to high school with us.

A person using their laptop in bed | Source: Pexels

A person using their laptop in bed | Source: Pexels

I planned the reunion, making the bar that I had just left the location for our meeting. When the event was created, many of my ex-classmates indicated that they would be there—there were many shares and by the next morning, the number of people attending had grown.

A laptop opened to Facebook | Source: Pexels

A laptop opened to Facebook | Source: Pexels

On the day of the reunion, I spent a while getting dressed. This was a big moment. This was for everyone to see that I was the best version of myself—and that I was confident in my own skin.

At the bar, I went straight to the bartender and made sure that the bill would be sent to Justin at the end of the evening, giving his name and number.

A woman doing her make up | Source: Pexels

A woman doing her make up | Source: Pexels

After a while, Justin came up to me with a big grin on his face.

“You seem different, have we met before?” he asked, slurping his drink.

He didn’t even have the decency to remember me from drinks the previous week.

The irony of his words almost made me laugh, but I kept my composure.

A person holding a glass | Source: Pexels

A person holding a glass | Source: Pexels

“I get that a lot,” I deflected. “Maybe I just have one of those faces.”

Justin laughed, shrugging as he turned to signal the bartender for another round.

“But you do know me,” I said. “You really haven’t changed, have you, Justin?”

“What do you mean?”

A couple talking | Source: Pexels

A couple talking | Source: Pexels

“Just that you’ve always had this way of making people feel less,” I pressed on, my resolve hardening with each word. “Like how you talk to the waitress, or how you joked about your ex the other night.”

Justin’s face hardened when he realized who I was—but still, I was merely the girl from the dating app, not the one who had been bullied by him before.

A person holding her phone | Source: Pexels

A person holding her phone | Source: Pexels

“What? Oh! Jen!” he said, his face contorting.

“Do you remember Jennifer from high school?” I asked loudly, hoping that people would be listening. “The girl that you tormented. The girl that you made sure knew how different she was from everyone else. That she didn’t fit your cruel standards.”

His face went pale, his eyes widening as realization dawned, connecting the past with the present.

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

“I’m that Jennifer,” I said. “And tonight, I wanted you to see exactly who I have become, despite your best efforts to break me down.”

Justin stood up, his mouth opening and closing, searching for something to say but finding nothing. Around us, the expressions from our classmates ranged from shock to support, their eyes fixed on us.

A surprised woman | Source: Unsplash

A surprised woman | Source: Unsplash

“I hope one day you’ll understand the weight of your words, how deeply they can cut,” I said.

Turning on my heel, I left him standing there stupidly, the bill for the drinks being the least of his worries.

Finally, I had done it.

A person holding a receipt | Source: Pexels

A person holding a receipt | Source: Pexels

What would you have done?

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