The next day, I went on the offensive. I bought neon labels and two small cameras, then meal-prepped for the week. Every container had a name. Harry and Wendy’s boxes? Empty.
Sure enough, Wendy arrived the next afternoon. She opened the fridge, saw the labels, and scowled. She grabbed my container anyway—but I had cooked it with a mild, safe laxative. Within minutes, she was running to the bathroom, pale and furious.
“Oh, it’s over,” I said quietly. “You ate food clearly labeled with my name. Actions have consequences.”
Harry walked in and demanded an explanation. “I didn’t do anything,” I told him calmly. “I just made sure my food was mine.”
That night, I uploaded the footage to Facebook. Comments flooded in:
“Good for you!”
“She had it coming.”
“Why is a grown woman stealing her DIL’s food?”
Within a day, Wendy was humiliated and finally backed off. She knocked before entering, brought her own snacks, and stopped taking my meals. Harry, for the first time, started cooking for himself instead of defending his mother.
And me? I finally ate in peace.
The lesson was simple: boundaries matter. People who refuse to respect them will only learn when actions have consequences. Was I harsh? Maybe. Was I wrong? Absolutely not. Sometimes, the only way to make someone stop taking what isn’t theirs is to enforce the rules—clearly, firmly, and unapologetically.
