After my father passed away, my mom eventually remarried a man named Raymond.
At first, he seemed kind — polite smiles, soft voice, and a charming laugh that made my mom believe she’d found peace again. But sometimes, charm is the mask cruelty wears.
A few weeks ago, I went to visit. Mom wasn’t feeling her best, so she reheated some leftover lasagna from the night before. It was warm, cheesy, and comforting — exactly the kind of simple meal love is made of.
But when Raymond saw the plate, his expression twisted into disgust.
Without a word, he grabbed the dish and hurled it to the floor, the crash echoing through the kitchen.
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME, COLLEEN?” he shouted.
“I DON’T EAT THE SAME MEAL TWICE! AM I A MAN OR A PIG? YOU COOK FOR YOUR HUSBAND EVERY DAY. THAT’S YOUR JOB NOW.”
My mother froze. Her eyes watered, but she didn’t argue. She just whispered, “Sorry, dear. It won’t happen again,” and began to clean up, her hands trembling.
I stood there, furious — my heart pounding so loud I could barely hear him rant. I wanted to scream, to throw the plate right back at him. But I didn’t.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept hearing his voice, his arrogance, the sound of my mother apologizing for nothing. So I decided — if he needed a “lesson,” I’d give him one he wouldn’t forget.
The next morning, I put on my sweetest smile and said,
“Raymond, let me make breakfast today.”
He smirked. “Finally, someone who knows how to treat a man.”
I hummed while I cooked, serving him scrambled eggs, bacon, and coffee — all perfectly plated. But what he didn’t know was that the coffee had a generous dose of hot sauce, and the bacon was brushed with wasabi paste.
He took one big, smug bite. Then coughed. Choked. His face turned red as he scrambled for water, gasping.
I leaned in and said softly,
“Oh dear… you don’t like having the same meal twice? Don’t worry. You’ll never taste this again.”
Mom tried to hide her laugh behind her hand. Raymond glared, humiliated — but for the rest of the visit, he never raised his voice.
Sometimes, you don’t need to shout to teach a lesson.
You just need to serve it spicy. 🌶️
