My mother-in-law gave her granddaughter an expensive bike, but took it back a few days later — so I decided to teach her a harsh lesson
Recently, my mother-in-law gave our five-year-old daughter a new pink bicycle. Shiny, with white tires and a heart-shaped basket. It wasn’t cheap, and my husband and I had already agreed that such a gift would only be given on her birthday — as a special surprise. But my mother-in-law had other plans.
— I just couldn’t resist, — she said with a glowing smile. — My granddaughter deserves the very best!
Our daughter squealed with joy and rode around the yard all day. Of course, we thanked my mother-in-law. We even offered to reimburse part of the cost, but she firmly refused:
— I’d do anything for her. I even spent my last savings. Don’t worry about it.
But soon I realized: we had all paid much more than we thought.
At first, it seemed harmless. She just started visiting more often. A lot more. Almost every day.
— Look how happy she is, — she said with a tight smile. — Good thing I stepped in, otherwise you’d still be delaying that bike…
Then she started making little “casual” remarks:
— I spent my last money on that gift, you know… But oh well, as long as my granddaughter is happy.
At first, we thought she just wanted to be involved. But then things changed. She started complaining:
— Don’t park the bike like that! It’ll get scratched!
— You went through the puddle again at full speed? What if it gets damaged?
Our daughter listened with her head down. She no longer rode with the same excitement. The bike felt almost forbidden. I tried to talk to my mother-in-law:
— Mom, please don’t put pressure on the child. It’s just a toy.
She got offended. Stayed silent. And the next morning, something happened that we never expected.
I woke up to the sound of my daughter sobbing. She was standing in her pajamas by the garage, holding the empty chain from the lock. The bike was gone. My mother-in-law had simply taken it back.
Later she sent a message: “I took the bike. If you can’t teach your child how to take care of things, I will.”
The next day, we went and bought a new bike. Our daughter smiled again, but it wasn’t the same sparkle as the first time. And then I knew — this couldn’t go unanswered.
The next evening, I called.
— Mom, we’re stopping by. Hope you’re home.
She was. She came out to greet us, confident that everything had blown over. But I didn’t come alone.
Two strong men followed me. We walked into her living room, and I pointed at the leather couch my husband and I had given her six months ago for her birthday.
— This one? — one of them asked.
— Yes, — I said calmly. — Take it.
My mother-in-law gasped.
— Are you insane? That’s my couch!
I looked her straight in the eye:
— Too expensive a couch to be mistreated. You clearly don’t know how to take care of it — look, there’s a scratch. We’re concerned about its condition.
She was left standing in the middle of the room, pale as the wall behind her
