My stepdad, Jeff, always reminded us that he was the “man of the house” and liked to brag about being the breadwinner. He’d often say things like, “You’re lucky I keep this roof over your heads,” while lounging in his recliner, and my mom, Jane, would silently nod along. We all saw through his attitude, and despite our attempts, Mom never left him.On Mom’s birthday, Jeff claimed to have a “special gift” for her, and we all hoped he’d finally get it right. But when she unwrapped a beautifully wrapped box to find a 12-pack of toilet paper, Jeff laughed and said, “It’s so soft, just like you!” Mom nervously laughed,
but we all knew this was cruel.Two days later, we set up a plan to get back at Jeff. We invited him to his favorite Chinese restaurant, promising dinner on us. When he bragged about his ability to handle spicy food, we ordered the spiciest dishes on the menu. Jeff struggled to eat and sweated through the meal, but he insisted it was fine.Meanwhile, Mom and my sisters were at the house, packing up her belongings, including Jeff’s recliner and every roll of toilet paper. When Jeff arrived home, he froze at the sight of his missing recliner and then bolted to the bathroom, clutching his stomach. From inside the bathroom, he yelled, “Where’s the toilet paper?”We couldn’t hold it in anymore. “We took that along with the recliner!” I shouted, laughing. Mom then told Jeff she was leaving him and had taken what was hers, including her dignity. As Jeff groaned from behind the bathroom door,
we left, knowing he’d have a long night ahead.The next day, Jeff left desperate voicemails, but Mom didn’t respond. Instead, for his birthday, we sent him a jumbo pack of toilet paper with a note that read, “For a real man.”Mom moved in with my sister Lily, and Jeff’s complaints are still going strong. But for the first time, Mom is living her life without Jeff’s control, and we’re all proud of her.
