When my father-in-law Richard moved in with us after my mother-in-law passed, I tried to be patient. But he was opinionated, stubborn, and always thought he knew best. My pride and joy was my backyard garden a space I’d nurtured for years, filled with colorful flowers and peace. To me, it was more than just plants; it was therapy.
Richard didn’t see it that way. To him, the garden was “wasted space.” He started suggesting we replace it with a swimming pool.
I laughed at first, then grew irritated. My husband Tom backed me up, reminding his dad how much effort I’d put into the garden and how impractical a pool would be. Richard brushed us off.
One weekend, Tom and I visited my parents. When we returned, my heart sank. My beautiful garden was gone. In its place, a massive hole stretched across the yard, dirt piled high around it. Richard stood there, grinning smugly, proud of his “surprise.” I burst into tears, and Tom exploded at him.
But karma didn’t waste time. Our neighbor, Mrs. Jensen famous for being a stickler for rules—noticed the construction and called the city. An inspector showed up within hours, fined Richard, and ordered the work stopped immediately. Just when we thought it couldn’t get worse, the workers accidentally hit an old water pipe.
The yard flooded, turning into a swamp. Richard slipped, landing face-first in the mud, his suit ruined and his dignity gone. By the end, he had to pay for the fines, the broken pipe, and restoring the backyard. It took months, but I replanted my garden. Every bloom now feels like a victory.
Richard never mentions a pool anymore—if anything, the word makes him scowl and leave the room. And me? I learned that sometimes, you don’t need revenge. Karma will handle it for you—in the most fitting way possible.
