
“Jane, we need to talk about the vacation.”
I nodded, curious.
We had been home for two days now. Back from our trip to the seaside, staying in a luxurious resort. It was almost the break I needed, minus the fact that I had the Smiths’ three children, and their friends, the Johnsons’ two sons to care for as well.
I was just doing my job in a fancier location.
“Of course,” I said. “It was a lovely trip. Thank you again for inviting me.”
“Yes, well,” Mrs. Smith started. “We need to discuss the plane tickets. When will you be able to return the $1000?”
I blinked. I was sure that I had misheard her.
“Sorry, $1000? For the tickets? What?”
“Yes, for the tickets, Jane,” she spoke slowly as if I was stupid. “We spent a lot on them, and we thought you’d be grateful enough to pay us back.”
My heart raced. I didn’t have that kind of money to spare. I was their full-time nanny, with a mother to care for at home.
“But you told me that everything was sorted. You said, ‘Don’t worry about it, Jane. We’ve got it all covered.’”
Mrs. Smith’s expression hardened. Mr. Smith gazed at me.
“That was before the Johnsons refused to sign a business deal with Craig. That was the entire purpose of the holiday. Mr. Smith and I needed to woo them. So, there’s no need to seem generous now, Jane. You have exactly one week to return the money, or it will be taken from your pay.”
I was stunned. The room felt like it was spinning.
“But… I can’t afford that, Mrs. Smith,” I admitted. “Most of my salary goes to the rent at home and my mother’s medication. I can’t take that away from her. And you didn’t mention anything about paying you back!”
“That’s not our problem, Jane. One week,” Mr. Smith reiterated, reaching for a croissant from the tea tray left for Mrs. Smith. With a wave of his hand, he signaled the end of the discussion.
That night, I sat in my tiny room a few feet away from the Smiths’ house. I was seething. How could they do this? I needed a plan, and I needed it fast.
Then it hit me: the Smiths cared deeply about their social standing and their reputation.
“Of course, that’s all they care about,” I muttered to myself as I brushed my teeth before bed. “But I can use that to my advantage.”
The next day, after I dropped the kids off at school, I created a fake email account. I drafted a polite but detailed message about my experience, making sure to be clear without naming any names.
But there were enough telltale signs pointing to the Smiths, from their cars to the kids, to the gold facial appointments that Mrs. Smith bragged about.
Thereafter, I sent it to the key people in their social circle, including the other influential families that the Smiths wanted to be in league with.
“I just don’t understand what they want from us,” I overheard Mrs. Smith say into the phone later that day. “Eva asked me if everything is true, but I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
A few days later, the gossip started spreading. The Smiths’ dirty little secret on how they treated “their staff” was out, and naturally, their reputation took a hit.
Mrs. Smith called in a masseuse to soothe her muscles.
“Just let them into the spa when they arrive, Jane,” she said. “I need all the help I can get.”
Later that day, when I went to pick the kids up from school, the other nannies were hanging about, waiting for the bell to ring.
“Did you read the email about the Smiths?” one of the nannies said. “Jane, are they really like that?”
I nodded.
“They’re good parents, but they’re horrible people,” I admitted, not wanting to give away that I was the person who sent out the email.
“How long will you work for them?” another asked me. “I couldn’t live or work under those circumstances. Rich people need to learn that respect for them is earned, too.”
I smiled.
The nannies went back and forth as we waited. And through their chatter, I discovered something interesting about Mrs. Smith.
Turns out that my employer had a habit of “borrowing” items from her friends and never returning them.
“An entire Gucci handbag, Jane,” Mina said. “Mrs. Smith asked my ma’am if she could borrow it for a fundraising gala two months ago.”
“That’s ridiculous!” I said, shocked. “I didn’t know that she was capable of that sort of thing. But she doesn’t like me getting too close to her things anyway.”
A few days later, Mrs. Smith held one of her ladies’ luncheons. It was a monthly event that she loved hosting, but this time it was only two weeks into the month.
“I need this to go well, Jane,” she said as I cut fruit up for the kids. “So, you need to attend it. The kids will be at school. Everything will be catered for. Just walk around and talk to the women. Make us seem human.”
I knew that she was puzzling. She must have heard more than enough through the grapevine.
During the event, I walked around as requested of me. But I wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip. And I had nothing to lose. The Smiths were probably going to fire me at the end of the week when I couldn’t make the $1000.
“We’ll deal with it, darling,” my mother coughed into the phone when I told her the truth of the matter.
At the luncheon, I walked around, casually mentioning to the ladies how much I admired Mrs. Smith’s collection, making sure that I spoke to Eva, Mina’s employer.
“Mrs. Smith has a stunning handbag similar to yours,” I said. “Gucci. Did she lend you this one? She’s always telling me that she lends her things out because she has so much.”
Eva looked at me over the top of her champagne glass.
“Is that so, Jane?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.
Whispers started circulating. By the end of the luncheon, Mrs. Smith’s reputation for borrowing without returning was the hot topic.
The next morning, her friends began asking for their things back.
Mrs. Smith was mortified.
During dinner the next night, Mr. Smith called me to the table, asking me to join them.
“Thank you, but I usually wait for Ivy and Melanie to eat,” I said politely, mentioning the chef and her helper.
“No, sit with us,” he insisted.
I obliged.
Despite his tone, I hoped that maybe he was going to tell me that the money could be forgotten. And that everything would return as normal.
“It has come to my attention that an anonymous email has gone out,” he said, cutting into his steak.
“A disgusting email,” Mrs. Smith added, taking a long sip of her wine.
“Did you have anything to do with it?” he asked me, his eyes trying to coax a confession out of me.
I shook my head, looking down at my plate.
“Then that settles it,” he said, knowingly. “You’re dismissed. You can pack up and get out tomorrow.”
I did exactly as I was told and moved back home. A week later, Mrs. Johnson called me.
“Jane, can you come over for tea?” she asked warmly.
“Of course, Mrs. Johnson,” I replied, curious about the nature of the invitation.
As we sat in her luxurious living room, she looked at me with genuine concern.
“I heard about what the Smiths did to you. It’s disgraceful.”
I nodded, trying to keep my composure.
“Well,” she continued. “We’ve decided to cut ties with the Smiths entirely. And we’d like to offer you a job. Better pay, better working conditions. We could use someone like you for our kids.”
I was stunned.
“Of course!” I exclaimed. I needed the job desperately.
“You’ve earned it,” she smiled. “The boys loved having you watch them during the holiday. And somehow, you got Jonathan to eat his peas!”
I don’t know how the Smiths reacted to me working for the Johnsons, but I hoped that they felt betrayed.
What would you have done?
Saleswoman Humiliates Customer for Her Size, Meets Her at Boyfriend’s Home for Christmas

I’ve got a holiday tale that’s stranger than fiction. It all started with a mockery and unfolded into a Christmas dinner none of us will ever forget.
So, recently, I went to the shopping mall to choose a dress for Christmas dinner, which I was hosting. There’s this young woman, Claire. She works in the sales department, and let’s just say she has a knack for spreading holiday cheer in the most unconventional way.

An older woman looks at the dress in the shop | Source: Shutterstock
She decided to play fashion critic at the shop, and when I wore a dress that she chose for me, she started mocking me. Loud enough for everyone to hear, she said, “You definitely need a bigger size, or it’ll blow up on you on Christmas, or maybe a diet will help you.”

A seller woman mocks someone | Source: Shutterstock
Some were baffled, some giggled. Classy, right? I ignored it and left the shop, as I had no time, no energy to put this sassy girl in her place.
When I got home, I tried calling my husband, but he was unavailable. My son was present, and I couldn’t hold back my tears while explaining everything to him. He became furious and insisted on knowing the name of the shop to confront the saleswoman. However, I stopped him; I didn’t want to escalate the conflict further. Not now, maybe later.
Christmas Eve arrived, and I eagerly waited for my son and his girlfriend. It must have been the first time we met her. In fact, the whole family had gathered today. It was a special day, and it turned out to be even more memorable than I expected. The couple entered the home, and…little did I know, my son’s girlfriend turned out to be the woman who mocked me in the shop.
Now, here’s where it gets interesting. The moment Claire realized what she did, her face turned all shades of red. She was mortified and desperately wanted to escape the awkward situation. She claimed she was suddenly feeling unwell and suggested leaving the house. My first thought was that I had to kick her out. But then, I decided to give her one more chance. Maybe she had problems while mocking me. Maybe it was a bad day for her. Being the gracious hostess that I am, I persuaded her to stay. I stretched my mouth into a smile: “Oh, Claire, it’s so great to finally meet you! Please come! We’ll take care of you.”

A Christmas dinner in a family circle | Source: Shutterstock
As we all sat down for dinner, there was a noticeable tension in the air. The young woman, trying to play it cool, avoided eye contact with me, the supposed unsuspecting mother. Little did she know what was expecting her. We all had an amazing dinner. Laughed a lot and talked about everything. Our relatives shared what happened to them during this year. All felt so relaxed except for one. From time to time, she nervously made cheap and even cruel jokes, making my mother-in-law feel uncomfortable a few times. I saw my son grabbing her hand and stopping her. But for me, that was it.
There came the moment we had all been waiting for. Right there, in the midst of the Christmas feast, I decided to unwrap a little surprise of my own. “You know, I would never spoil our Christmas, but there’s a person who isn’t worth being here.” I shared with the whole family what Claire said to me in the shop. You could practically hear a pin drop as the truth hung in the air.
The shock on everyone’s faces, especially my son’s, was something out of a movie. Claire, who was so quick to mock others, suddenly found herself in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons.
My son, God bless him, couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Without hesitation, he took charge of the situation. He looked at Claire with a mix of disappointment and disbelief and, right then and there, kicked her out, ending their relationship on the spot.

A man is arguing with his girlfriend during dinner | Source: Shutterstock
As Claire gathered her things and left, there was a strange sense of poetic justice in the air. The woman who had no qualms about ridiculing someone’s appearance was then facing the consequences of her own words.
Later that night, as we cleaned up the remnants of what was supposed to be a joyous Christmas dinner, my son approached me. He thanked me for being honest and showing him who Claire truly was. He admitted that he deserved someone who treated others with kindness and respect.

An adult son hugs his older mom | Source: Shutterstock
Justice doesn’t take a holiday. And sometimes, the best gift you can receive is the truth, even if it comes with a side of unexpected drama. Cheers to a Christmas I’ll never forget!
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