An entitled mom thought breaking my little daughter’s iPad would end her son’s tantrums. But what came next left her more panicked than I could’ve imagined. Karma works fast… even at 30,000 feet!
I, Bethany, 35 years old, never thought a two-hour flight could change so much. But there I was, settling into my seat with my five-year-old daughter Ella next to me. As the plane taxied down the runway, I breathed a sigh of relief. Ella was contentedly watching cartoons on her iPad, headphones snug on her ears…
“You comfy, sweetie?” I asked, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
Ella nodded, her eyes glued to the screen. “Uh-huh. Can I have juice later?”
“Of course,” I smiled, reaching for my book. “Just let me know when you’re thirsty.”
As I cracked open my novel, movement across the aisle caught my eye. A family of three had just sat down: a couple and a little boy around Ella’s age. He was squirming in his seat, whining loudly.
“I’m bored!” he wailed, kicking the seat in front of him.
His mother shushed him. “We told you, no screens on this trip. Be a good boy.”
The boy’s whining intensified, and I saw his gaze lock onto Ella’s iPad.
Oh boy, I thought. This might be a long flight.
Twenty minutes in, a tap on my shoulder made me look up. The mom from across the aisle was leaning towards me, a tight smile on her face.
“Hi there! I couldn’t help but notice your daughter’s iPad. We’ve decided to be responsible parents and not give our son any screen time this vacation. Would you mind putting that away? It’s making him upset.”
I blinked, stunned by her audacity. “Excuse me?”
“It’s just… it’s not fair to him, you know?”
I took a deep breath, reminding myself to stay calm. “I’m sorry, but no. My daughter’s using it to stay calm during the flight.”
The woman’s smile vanished instantly. “Wow, really? You’d rather ruin our family trip than have your daughter take a break from her precious screen?”
“Listen,” I said, my patience wearing thin, “she’s quietly minding her own business. Your son could do the same if you’d brought him something to do.”
The woman, let’s just call her “Entitled Mom (EM)” was visibly frustrated.
“Some parents just can’t say no to their kids these days. No wonder they all end up spoiled.”
I turned back to my book, hoping that would end the conversation. But I could feel her glare burning into the side of my head.
“Everything okay, Mommy?” Ella asked, momentarily looking up from her show.
“Everything’s fine, sweetie. Just keep watching your cartoons.”
The next hour was tense. The boy’s tantrum escalated, his wails piercing through the cabin noise.
His parents shot us dirty looks every few minutes, as if we were personally responsible for their poor planning.
“I want that!” the boy shrieked, pointing at Ella’s iPad. “It’s not fair!”
His mother leaned over. “I know, honey. Some people are just SELFISH!”
I gritted my teeth, focusing on my book. The words blurred as I tried to block out the chaos around us. Ella remained oblivious, lost in her cartoons.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted beside us. Entitled Mom had leaned across the aisle, reaching for her bag. But instead of grabbing her belongings, her arm knocked into Ella’s tray table.
Time seemed to slow as I watched Ella’s iPad slide off the tray. It hit the floor with a sickening crack, the screen shattering into a spiderweb of fractures.
Ella’s scream cut through the air. “Mommy, my iPad!”
Entitled Mom’s face lit with fake surprise. “Oh no! I didn’t mean to do that! So clumsy of me!”
But I saw the glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. This was NO ACCIDENT.
“What is wrong with you?” I hissed.
She shrugged, not even trying to hide her smugness. “These things happen. Maybe it’s a sign she needs less screen time.”
I was about to unleash a torrent of words that would make a sailor blush when a flight attendant appeared.
“Is everything alright here?” she asked, eyeing the shattered iPad.
Entitled Mom’s act kicked into high gear. “Oh, it was just a terrible accident. I feel awful!”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the flight attendant cut me off with a sympathetic smile.
“I’m so sorry about your device, ma’am. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do mid-flight. Please let us know if you need anything else.”
As she walked away, I turned to comfort my distraught daughter, knowing this battle was far from over. But it seemed karma had other plans.
With Ella’s iPad out of commission, the boy’s tantrum reached new heights. He bounced in his seat, kicked the chair in front of him, and yanked on the tray table.
“Sweetie, please settle down,” Entitled Mom pleaded.
“I’m bored! This is the worst trip ever!”
I watched from the corner of my eye, torn between sympathy for the child and a petty sense of satisfaction at Entitled Mom’s struggle.
Ella tugged on my sleeve, her eyes still watery. “Mommy, can you fix it?”
I hugged her close. “I’m sorry, sweetie. We’ll have to get it looked at when we land. How about we read a book instead?”
As I reached into my bag for another book, chaos erupted across the aisle.
The boy, in a fit of hyperactivity, had knocked over Entitled Mom’s coffee cup. The dark liquid spread across her lap and splashed into her open handbag.
“No, no, no!” she cried, frantically trying to save her belongings.
In her haste to rescue her bag, something fell out and landed on the floor. Yikes! It was a small blue booklet. I took a closer look and gasped. It was her PASSPORT!
Before anyone could react, her son’s foot came down on the fallen document, grinding it into the coffee-soaked carpet.
God, you should’ve seen Entitled Mom’s face. It was EPIC!
She snatched up the passport, but the damage was done. The pages were soaked through, stuck together in a soggy mess. The cover was warped beyond recognition. It looked like a water-logged, soggy piece of toast.
“Ma’am?” A flight attendant approached. “Is that your passport?”
Entitled Mom nodded, speechless for once.
“I’m so sorry, but I have to inform you that a damaged passport could cause serious issues when we land. Especially if you’re traveling internationally.”
Entitled Mom’s eyes widened in panic. She turned to her husband, seeking a way out. “What are we going to do? Our connecting flight to Paris leaves in three hours!”
Her husband shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. Maybe we can explain at customs?”
As they bickered, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of malevolence.
As the plane began its descent, Entitled Mom was frantically dabbing at her ruined passport with tissues, muttering under her breath. Her son, exhausted from his earlier tantrums, had finally fallen asleep.
I leaned over to Ella, who was reading her storybook with a big smile. “Great job, sweetie! You’re a real bookworm!”
She beamed at me, her earlier distress over the iPad forgotten. “Can we bake cupcakes when we get home, Mommy?”
“Absolutely,” I promised, ruffling her hair. “And maybe we can bake some cookies too!”
A soft whimper from across the aisle drew my attention. Entitled Mom was on the phone, her eyes brimming with panic.
“Yes, I understand it’s last minute, but we need to reschedule our entire trip. No, we can’t make the connecting flight. Because… because my passport is ruined.”
I couldn’t help but overhear as she explained the situation, detailing how she’d have to go through the process of getting an emergency passport before they could continue their journey.
As we began to taxi to our gate, Entitled Mom caught my eye as we stood to disembark.
For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of remorse in her eyes. But then her son started whining again, and the moment passed.
“Ready to go, Ella?” I asked, helping her gather her things.
“Can we get ice cream at the airport, Mommy?”
“I think we deserve a little treat, don’t you think?!” I laughed.
As we made our way off the plane, I couldn’t help but reflect on the bizarre turn of events. What had started as a simple two-hour flight had turned into a lesson in karma, patience, and the unpredictability of travel.
I glanced back one last time to see Entitled Mom still frantically trying to salvage her ruined passport. It was a grim reminder that our actions, good or bad, often have unexpected consequences.
Turns out, it wasn’t just Ella’s iPad that got ruined on that flight. Entitled Mom ended up losing something much more valuable!
As we walked hand in hand towards the baggage claim, I squeezed Ella’s fingers, thankful for the perspective this chaotic flight had given me. Sometimes, the best lessons come from the worst experiences.
Have you ever encountered a nightmare neighbor on a flight? Share your own flight horror stories in the comments!
My Mom Called Me from Her Honeymoon Begging Me to Save Her from Her New Husband
When my mom called me from her honeymoon, begging me to save her from her new husband, I thought she was in real danger. Nothing could’ve prepared me for what she told me or how I had to step in to fix it.
I’ve always been close to my mom, Diane.
She’s been my rock, my best friend, and the person who taught me everything about love and resilience. But after my dad passed away 10 years ago, things changed.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
She became quiet, and withdrawn, like a shadow of the vibrant woman she used to be. She barely called or texted anymore, and every time I tried to check in, she insisted she was fine.
But I could tell she wasn’t.
One day, I couldn’t take it anymore.
I called her and said, “Mom, why don’t you come stay with me for a while? It’ll be fun. We can binge-watch those cooking shows you love and eat way too much ice cream.”
A woman talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney
At first, she resisted, but after a bit of cajoling, she finally agreed.
A week later, she moved into my guest room, and I made it my mission to bring her back to life.
I started encouraging her to get out of the house, make new friends, and attend neighborhood events.
“You’re still young, Mom,” I told her. “You deserve to have fun and meet people. Dad would want that for you.”
A woman talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney
To be honest, that wasn’t the easiest thing to do.
She’d sigh and roll her eyes whenever I suggested going to a book club or joining a gardening group. But eventually, she started saying yes.
Slowly but surely, I saw the spark return to her eyes. She started laughing more, talking about her new friends, and even picking up some of her old hobbies.
I was so relieved to see this side of her again.
Then, about a year ago, Mom told me about Greg. She invited him over for lunch one day.
A man standing in a room | Source: Midjourney
“He’s just a friend,” she said, but the way her cheeks turned pink told me otherwise.
Greg was a tall, silver-haired man with kind eyes and a soft-spoken demeanor. He seemed sweet, the kind of man who would hold doors open and always say please and thank you.
After he left, I couldn’t help teasing her.
“So, Mom, is Greg really just a friend, or is there more to the story?”
Her blush deepened.
A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney
“Well, umm… he’s, uh, he’s my boyfriend,” she admitted.
“OMG, what?” I looked at her with wide eyes. “Mom! You never told me about him!”
“I didn’t know how to…” she said. “I mean—”
“I’m so happy for you, Mom!” I cut her off and pulled her into a hug. “That’s so, so amazing!”
“But, uh,” she began. “Do you think it’s okay? I mean, dating someone else after your dad… is that fine?”
A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney
“Mom, of course, it’s okay,” I put my hands on her shoulders. “You deserve to be happy. Think about Dad. He always wanted to see you happy, right? He’d want you to move forward and do things in life. You can’t put your life on hold forever, can you?”
Her eyes glistened as she nodded. “You’re right. I just… I hope I’m doing the right thing.”
“You are,” I said firmly. “Greg seems like a great guy. And you’re allowed to have a second chance at happiness.”
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
From that moment, she fully embraced her relationship with Greg. They dated for a while, and when he proposed, she said yes.
Their wedding was a small but beautiful ceremony, filled with love and laughter. As I watched my mom walk down the aisle, I thought to myself, Maybe this is her happily ever after.
And for a while, it seemed like everything was perfect. But then I received the phone call that sent a shiver down my spine.
A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels
So, after their wedding, Mom and Greg left for their honeymoon in the Florida Keys. It was Mom’s dream trip, and she deserved every bit of it.
I was so happy for her.
My phone rang the day after they arrived, and I saw her name on the screen. Naturally, I assumed she was calling to gush about how amazing everything was.
“Mom!” I answered cheerfully. “How’s paradise?”
But her shaky voice on the other end told me something was wrong.
A woman looking at her phone | Source: Midjourney
“Kayla,” she whispered. “Please. Come and save me from him. I beg you.”
“Mom, what’s going on?” I asked as I sat up straight. “Are you okay?”
“It’s Greg,” she said. “He’s not who I thought he was.”
My mind raced with worst-case scenarios.
“What do you mean? Did he do something? Is he dangerous?” I was already grabbing my car keys, ready to drive to Florida if I had to.
A car key | Source: Pexels
She took a deep breath.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said bitterly. “But he brought his kids, and their kids, on our honeymoon. And he expects me to babysit them.”
“Wait… what?”
“Yesterday, he said he had a surprise for me,” she explained. “I thought it was going to be something romantic, like a sunset dinner or a couples’ massage. Instead, his adult children showed up with their toddlers in tow.”
A woman holding a baby | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t believe Greg was capable of doing something so absurd.
“There are four of them, Kayla. Four,” Mom cried. “And now I’m stuck babysitting while Greg spends all his time with his kids.”
“You mean to tell me he brought his entire family on your honeymoon? Without asking you?”
“Yes!” she cried. “And now he’s saying that since I’m ‘the new mom,’ it’s my job to help out. Help out! On my honeymoon! What does he think he’s doing?”
I could hear the frustration and exhaustion in her voice.
A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney
My mom, the woman who had given up everything to raise me after my dad passed away, was being treated like a nanny on what was supposed to be the happiest trip of her life.
I felt a wave of anger rush through my body.
“That’s insane!” I snapped. “Who does he think he is? Don’t worry, Mom. I’m coming, and we’re putting an end to this nonsense.”
“Kayla, you don’t have to—”
“No, Mom,” I interrupted, my voice steely. “I’m not letting him treat you like this. Pack your bags. I’ll be there by morning.”
A woman sitting near a window | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I arrived at the resort. I was in such a beautiful place, but unfortunately, I wasn’t there to relax. I was there to fight. To tell Greg he couldn’t mistreat my mother.
To make my point crystal clear, I decided to lean into the absurdity of the situation.
Before heading to the resort, I stopped at a store and grabbed a few props. A bright pink kid’s sun hat, a bib, and a pacifier.
If Greg wanted to turn my mom into a nanny, I’d show him exactly how ridiculous that was.
A woman standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney
When I walked into the resort’s outdoor lounge, I spotted Greg immediately.
He was lounging by the pool with his adult kids, completely unaware of what was heading his way.
Mom was nowhere to be seen, and I could only assume she was stuck babysitting.
I straightened my pink hat, stuck the pacifier in my mouth, and stormed up to him.
“Daddy!” I called out, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Where’s Mommy? I want my juice box!”
The look on Greg’s face was priceless.
A man standing in a resort | Source: Midjourney
His laughter vanished the moment he saw me.
“Kayla,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving my mom,” I said as I yanked the pacifier out of my mouth. “And calling you out on your nonsense while I’m at it.”
Before he could respond, I turned to his grown children, who were now staring at me with wide eyes.
“Hi, everyone!” I said, plastering on a fake smile. “I’m Kayla, Greg’s other kid, apparently. The one he forgot to mention when he invited the rest of you to my mom’s honeymoon and turned her into a babysitter.”
A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
One of his daughters stammered, “We… we didn’t mean—”
“Oh, save it,” I interrupted. “Let me guess, he told you my mom would be happy to watch your kids so you could enjoy a nice vacation, right? Did he mention it’s supposed to be her honeymoon? You know, the trip where she was supposed to be relaxing, not changing diapers?”
At that moment, my mom appeared, holding a wailing toddler on her hip and looking like she hadn’t slept in days.
I walked over to her and gently took the toddler from her arms.
A woman holding a baby | Source: Pexels
“Here you go,” I said, handing the child back to one of Greg’s kids. “Pretty sure this one’s yours. Maybe try taking care of your own children instead of dumping them on a woman you barely know.”
“Kayla!” Greg snapped. “That’s enough. You’re making a scene.”
“Oh, am I?” I shot back, crossing my arms. “You dragged your entire family into what was supposed to be a romantic getaway with your new wife. And you’ve been treating her like a nanny instead of a partner. What kind of man does that?”
A serious woman | Source: Midjourney
“It’s a family trip!” Greg argued. “She’s part of the family now. Helping out is what families do.”
“No,” I said firmly. “She’s your wife, not your maid. She didn’t sign up to spend her honeymoon babysitting. And honestly, the fact that you thought this was okay tells me everything I need to know about you.”
That’s when one of Greg’s daughters started apologizing.
“We didn’t mean to cause trouble,” she mumbled. “Dad said she’d be fine with it…”
A woman standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney
“Of course, he did,” I said bitterly. “Because he didn’t bother to ask her.”
The crowd around the pool was utterly silent, watching the scene unfold. Greg looked like he wanted to disappear, but I wasn’t done yet.
“Pack your bags, Mom,” I said. “We’re leaving.”
She hesitated, glancing at Greg. “But… what about—”
“No,” I cut her off. “You don’t owe him anything. He disrespected you, and you deserve better.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but she nodded. I grabbed her hand and led her out of the pool area, while Greg mumbled excuses.
A close-up shot of a man’s face | Source: Midjourney
On the drive home, Mom stayed quiet for the longest time. She kept staring out of the window before finally speaking up.
“Thank you, Kayla,” she said softly. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Mom,” I said, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “You’ve always been there for me. I’m just returning the favor.”
She gave me a small, teary smile. “I thought he loved me.”
“Someone who loves you wouldn’t treat you like that,” I said. “You deserve someone who puts you first.”
A woman driving | Source: Pexels
“You’re right,” she nodded. “I’m done with Greg.”
When we got home, she blocked his number and started looking into annulments.
Meanwhile, karma turned Greg’s life upside down. His kids weren’t too thrilled about being dragged into his honeymoon scheme, and they stopped speaking to him after finding out what he did.
Last I heard, he was spending his days alone, wondering where it all went wrong.
I can’t explain how relieved I feel after saving Mom from being exploited for her kindness. I’m grateful she decided to call me that day instead of quietly looking after that man’s grandkids and keeping up with his insane logic.
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: “My real mom still lives here,” my stepson whispered one night. I laughed it off, until I started noticing strange things around our home.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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