Jake and I tied the knot last month. With limited funds, every wedding gift was precious to us

Jake and I tied the knot last month. With limited funds, every wedding gift was precious to us. The day after, we set off on our honeymoon.

Before we left, Jake gave his mom, Linda, a spare key and asked her to water our plants. When we returned a week later, the first thing I noticed was a bright red dumpster in our backyard, overflowing with torn wrapping paper, crushed boxes, and crumpled gift bags. The living room was empty except for a single mug, a candle, and a potholder.

On the table, there was a note saying, “I took your gifts as payment for watering your plants.”

Jake called Linda, and she cheerfully replied, “Oh, I unpacked everything for you and kept a few things… as thanks for raising Jake and for watering the plants all week.”

By “a few things,” she meant:
• $800 espresso machine from my aunt and uncle. • Crystal wine glasses from my college friends. • KitchenAid stand mixer from Jake’s coworkers.

• The envelope of cash from my parents. We went directly to her home. She smirked and refused to return anything.

Jake’s jaw tightened, knowing pushing her would lead to a bigger conflict. So, instead, we chose to turn this entire situation to our benefit. Jake and I didn’t fight her.

Instead, we posted a cheerful “thank you” album online, tagging every gift giver and writing, “We love our new espresso machine! The stand mixer looks perfect in our kitchen!” The comments poured in—friends and family asking to see them in person. Soon Linda was flooded with calls: “Where’s the gift we bought them?” Cornered, she showed up at our door with every stolen item, cheeks burning.