My stepdad, Jeff, loved to remind us that he was the “man of the house” and constantly bragged about being the one who provided for us. He’d often say things like, “You’re lucky I keep a roof over your heads,” while he lounged in his recliner, and my mom, Jane, would just quietly agree. We all knew what he was really like, but no matter how much we wished otherwise, Mom never left him.
On Mom’s birthday, Jeff said he had a “special gift” for her, and for a moment, we hoped he might have actually put some thought into it. Instead, when she opened the fancy-looking package, she found a 12-pack of toilet paper inside. Jeff laughed and said, “It’s soft—just like you!” Mom gave a nervous chuckle, but everyone could see how hurt she was.
Two days later, we decided to get even. We invited Jeff to his favorite Chinese restaurant, promising him a meal on us. Knowing he loved to brag about handling spicy food, we ordered the hottest dishes on the menu. Jeff tried to act tough, but he was sweating and clearly suffering through the meal.
While he was distracted at dinner, Mom and my sisters were back home, packing up her things—including Jeff’s beloved recliner and every last roll of toilet paper. When Jeff returned, he froze at the empty living room, then rushed to the bathroom clutching his stomach. From inside, he shouted, “Where’s the toilet paper?”
Laughing, I called back, “We took that along with the recliner!” Mom then calmly told him she was leaving, taking everything that was hers—including her dignity. Jeff, still stuck in the bathroom, could only groan as we walked out the door.
The next day, he left a string of desperate voicemails, but Mom ignored them. Instead, we sent him a giant pack of toilet paper for his birthday with a note that said, “For a real man.”
Now, Mom is living happily with my sister Lily, free from Jeff’s control, and for the first time in a long while, we’re proud to see her truly happy.
