When Mia’s stepmother, Trudy, planned to throw herself a lavish 45th birthday party, Mia knew she’d be cast as an unseen servant. Trudy had no idea that karma was on Mia’s side, ready to deliver a lesson she’d never forget.
Get ready, because this is one of those times when the universe intervenes at precisely the perfect time, and let me tell you, it’s satisfying.
Meet our major characters: I’m Mia, a 16-year-old living with my father and stepmother, Trudy. Trudy has been around for nearly two years, and she’s mastered the “wicked stepmother” character like it was her job. If entitlement had a mascot, it would be Trudy.
Life with her is like being on a crappy reality TV show, only there’s no camera crew and I’m not being paid.
My father? He’s more of a “keep the peace” type of guy. He believes in the “happy wife, happy life” motto, while Trudy considers happiness to be a luxury. She expects the world to revolve around her.
Then came last Saturday, Trudy’s birthday celebration. She went all out, as if it were a royal occasion. The gathering was more like a wedding reception than a birthday celebration. It was all part of her attempt to cling to her youth, as she strutted around the home like a queen in the days preceding it.
“Mia, make sure you get me something special this year,” she urged one morning while I was preparing my smoothie. “Having a dishwasher would be good. I have done a lot for you, after all.”
Sure, Trudy. By “a lot,” she meant trea:ting me like Cinderella’s understudy.
“Uh, Trudy,” I said, mixing my smoothie. “I’m saving up for my prom dress.”
Her face twisted in amazement. “What’s your prom dress? That is absurd! Simply grab something cheap from a shop. A dishwasher is much more practical. I do not want to hear any excuses.
Excuses? Really? She intended me to spend my prom dress funds on a dishwasher for her. So, where’s my fairy godmother when I need her?
To make matters worse, Trudy had convinced my father that I was “too young” for a job. My only method to save money was to babysit the local kids, and the money I saved on my prom dress couldn’t even cover the cost of a dishwasher.
Let us now fast forward to the celebration day. The mansion was bustling with caterers, an event planner, and floral displays that might rival a botanical garden. Meanwhile, I was washing out mirrors and putting up water stations, attempting to be out of the way.
As soon as Trudy’s pals came, she changed into the star of her own show, flashing phony grins and relishing in praise. “Mia! She cried out, “Refill the drinks!” Of course, I had to cooperate.
I glide through the celebration like a ghost, waiting for the cake to be cut and the day to end.
Later, I was able to steal a plate of food and locate a quiet place. My father noticed me and grinned, “Taking a break, Mimi?” “I will get you a fancy milkshake from the milkshake station.”
Soon later, it was time for cake. My father ignited the candles, and Trudy performed a little dance, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. But as the celebration wound down, she clinked her wine glass and gave me an all-too-familiar smug smirk.
“Mia, since you didn’t bother to buy me a dishwasher, the least you can do is wash all these dishes.”
The room became quiet. Twenty pairs of eyes looked at me. I felt humiliated. Did she actually say that out loud?
“You didn’t get your mom a gift?” One of her pals expressed pity. “That’s so rude.”
I gulped hard and held my voice calm. “Trudy, I told you—I’m saving for prom.”
She waved me away, disregarding my comments. “Wash the dishes, Mia. “Do something useful.”
I wanted to scream, but instead I faked a grin and replied, “Fine.” I spent the next hour cleaning dishes, my irritation building up as I worked.
The next morning, I was startled awake by Trudy’s screams coming from the kitchen. When I raced downstairs, I discovered her in the midst of a kitchen mess. The floor was soaked, and the air smelled like burned plastic.
“What happened?” I asked, still drowsy.
“The pipes!” “The kitchen is ruined!” Trudy shouted and flailed her arms.
Trudy had spilled hamburger oil down the sink the night before and attempted to flush it with drain cleaner, completely ruining the pipes.
I bit my lip and tried not to chuckle. Karma, anyone?
For the next week, the kitchen was out of service. Repairs were so expensive that my father declared they would have to cut back on spending.
“Except for Mia,” he clarified. “I have $500 for her prom dress.”
Trudy was infuriated. “You are pampering her, David! “How about the kitchen tiles?”
“You spoilt yourself at that party. I can treat my daughter for the prom.”
