When my rich sister-in-law saw us in matching Superman costumes at her fancy Halloween party, she kicked my family out to “avoid confusion.” What she didn’t realize was that her mean move would lead to an unforgettable revenge in her fancy neighborhood.
I’m not usually a petty person, but sometimes life gives you chances for revenge that are too good to ignore.
Looking back, I should have guessed something was off when my mother-in-law’s eyes lit up at our Superman costumes in the store that day.
“Oh, how creative,” she said, smiling as brightly as her recent Botox treatment would allow. “The boys must be thrilled.”
She touched the fabric of Jake’s cape with her perfectly manicured nails, her nose wrinkling a little. “Though maybe something more… sophisticated would suit Isla’s Halloween party better?”
I barely held back a sigh. This was typical Brenda, always finding something to criticize about Dan and me.
When we started dating, I didn’t know my husband Dan came from a wealthy family. He chose to open an auto repair shop instead of joining the family finance firm, which made him the black sheep.
His family didn’t approve of me at first. Honestly, I didn’t approve of them either, with their snobby attitudes and complicated social rules. But I learned to deal with it after Dan and I got married.
“The boys picked the costumes themselves,” I told Brenda that day, straightening my back. “And they are so excited about it. The kids’ happiness is what matters, right?”
“Mmm,” she hummed, her usual look of disappointment crossing her face. “Well, I suppose that’s… sweet.”
I forced a smile. “It is. You should have seen how excited Tommy was when he suggested it.”
It was my oldest boy’s idea to dress as a Superman family. He burst into the kitchen after school, backpack bouncing against his shoulders, eyes bright with excitement.
Dan walked in just then, grease still on his cheek from working on a car. “That’s actually perfect, buddy. What do you think, Marcia?”
“Can we, Mom? Please?” Jake chimed in, bouncing on his toes. “We could be the strongest family ever!”
I agreed right away. The boys’ excitement was contagious, and we really needed some family fun after months of dealing with snide comments about our “quaint” lifestyle and Dan’s job.
Just last week, Isla had commented at dinner about how brave I was to shop at regular stores instead of her favorite boutiques.
And you know what Dan’s father said when he opened his fourth location? “At least you’re consistent in your choices, son.”
So, yes, we were craving a little joy.
On the night of Isla’s Halloween party, the boys were practically bouncing with excitement, their red capes fluttering in the fall breeze. Professionally carved pumpkins lined the driveway, each one probably costing more than our whole Halloween budget.
“Look at all the decorations!” Jake gasped, pointing at the elaborate display. “They even have fog machines!”
“And look at those skeletons at the guesthouse!” Tommy added, eyes wide at the fancy landscaping.
That’s when I saw Isla at the top of the marble steps in a matching but clearly designer Superwoman costume. Her husband Roger wore a movie-quality Superman suit, and their son was dressed the same way.
Their costumes caught the light beautifully, and Isla’s cape seemed to float perfectly as she walked down to meet us.
My stomach dropped. I could feel Dan tense beside me.
“Oh my,” Isla’s voice dripped with false sweetness as we approached. “What an unfortunate coincidence.” She fixed her perfect hair, the diamond bracelet on her wrist sparkling. “Though I must say, the resemblance between our costumes is rather… loose.”
“Isla—” Dan started, his jaw tight.
“You see,” she cut him off, waving her hand at the guests behind her, “we simply can’t have two Superman families at the party. It would confuse everyone.”
Her perfect red lips curved into a sly smile. “You’ll either need to go home and change, wear something from our spare clothes, or…” She waved dismissively. “Leave.”
Roger stood behind her, trying to hide his smirk behind a champagne glass. Their son, Maxwell, looked at my boys with that same superior expression I often saw on Isla’s face.
I felt Tommy’s small hand slip into mine, shaking slightly. Jake pressed against Dan’s leg, his earlier excitement fading fast. That’s when something in me snapped.
Eight years of subtle insults, watching my husband’s success being ignored, and seeing my kids’ joy dimmed by their aunt’s need to be superior all came together in that moment.
“Actually,” I said, squeezing Tommy’s hand and filling my voice with enthusiasm, “we’re going on an adventure instead. Right, boys?”
“But Mom—” Jake started, his lip quivering.
“Trust me,” I said over my shoulder.
“This will be way better than a stuffy party. How does the Halloween festival downtown sound? I heard they have a bouncy house shaped like a haunted castle.”
Dan caught my eye, and I saw the same fire in him that I felt. He wrapped his arm around Jake’s shoulders. “Your mom’s right. Who wants to hit the festival? I bet they have better candy than Aunt Isla’s fancy party.”
“Really?” Tommy’s eyes lit up. “Can we get our faces painted?”
“Absolutely,” Dan grinned. “We can get whatever you want.”
The festival turned out to be amazing. We played games, got our faces painted like superheroes, and took a ton of photos. Tommy won a giant stuffed bat at the ring toss, and Jake managed to bob for three apples in a row.
Dan treated us all to hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, and we watched a local theater group perform spooky skits.
“This is way better than Aunt Isla’s party,” Jake declared, chocolate smeared across his chin. “Way, way better.”
The next day, my phone rang.
It was Julia, who catered Isla’s party. We had become friends over the years, bonding over our shared status as “outsiders” in the Preston social scene.
“Marcia, you won’t believe what I overheard,” she said, her voice full of anger. “Isla was bragging about the whole thing. She bought those costumes just to kick you out!”
“What?” I gripped the phone tighter, sinking onto the couch.
“She told Roger, and I quote, ‘Finally, I put that brat and her little brats in their place.’ And he laughed! Called you guys a ‘discount superhero act.’” Julia paused, disgust clear in her tone. “There’s more.”
I sighed. “Tell me.”
“Isla called you a circus act and said, ‘At least now everyone knows where they stand in this family.’”
Everything clicked into place.
My mother-in-law’s reaction to our costumes, the whole setup, and the humiliation had been a planned attack on my family, using my kids’ joy against us.
“Thanks, Julia,” I said quietly, my mind racing with ideas. “I appreciate you telling me. Isla is not getting away with this.”
Two days later, I stood in front of the billboard I had rented across from Isla’s estate. Our family photo from the festival shone down on the street, showing us in our “discount” costumes, faces painted and full of joy.
The best part was the text above it: “The Real Super Family: No Villains Allowed.”
The town gossip spread fast. Texts and calls flooded in, some subtle, others openly delighted about Isla’s costume scheme backfiring. Memes started circulating on social media.
Even Roger’s mother called it “deliciously fitting” at her weekly bridge club. The local coffee shop began serving a “Super Family Special” of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.
That evening, Dan found me in the kitchen, looking at my phone as another supportive message came through. This one was from his father’s secretary.
“You know,” he said, grinning with a sparkle in his eyes, “I’ve never been prouder to be married to a superhero.”
I leaned back against him, watching Tommy and Jake play superheroes in the backyard through the window. “Someone had to stand up to the villains.”
“Mom! Dad!” Tommy called from outside. “Come play with us! I’m Superman, and Jake’s Spider-Man now!”
“That’s not how it works!” Jake protested. “We can’t mix superhero worlds.”
“We can in our family,” Tommy declared. “We make our own rules!”
We joined our boys in the yard, capes flying, our laughter ringing off the fence.
At that moment, I realized something important: Isla might have fancy costumes and a big house, but we had a family that was truly super, not just playing dress-up.
A father sparks an online debate after rocking his daughter’s head for 45 minutes to help her sleep during a flight
These days, it’s not unusual to see people debating various topics on the internet.
It could be argued that it was unavoidable, as gathering millions of people in one location and allowing them the liberty to voice any opinion, no matter how diametrically opposed, would inevitably lead to spirited discussions.
Although contentious images and films are becoming commonplace on the internet, that doesn’t mean they aren’t worth seeing when they occur. We have discussed a lot of these subjects here at Newsner in the past. We thought it would be worthwhile to share the image of a father and his sleeping daughter on an airplane that had garnered a lot of comments.
The argument started when Reddit user u/therra123 posted a picture of a father and daughter cuddling on the r/MadeMeSmile discussion thread.
An image of a girl curled up in her aisle seat on a flight was submitted by the user. Her father had put his palm under her cheek, preventing her from resting her head on the armrest, which, as anyone who has ever used one will tell you, is a rather crude and merciless pillow.
“This man held his hand in this position for 45 minutes so his daughter could sleep well,” says the caption for the image on Reddit.
We have to say at this point that, in our judgment, this is just a father going about his business. Although the message was appropriately dubbed “heartwarming moments,” some Redditors didn’t agree.
The father was harshly criticized for his behavior; some people just said that he should have done a better job.
With thousands of comments and almost 60,000 votes, the post became viral immediately. Reactions included things like:
“I think there must be a better way to handle this.”
“Don’t you have your blanket?” said another. Bringing a blanket is the most crucial item to remember.
“This demonstrates a clear lack of creativity in problem-solving,” said a third person. forty-five minutes and you were unable to come up with a workable answer. Hey!
A fourth person wrote, “Seriously. Simply roll up a hoodie to create an instant pillow. Alternatively, here’s an absurd suggestion: ask a flight attendant for a cushion and blanket.
However, other people showed the father and his gesture more tolerance. Interestingly, we also find ourselves in this category!
How about you? Did you find it inappropriate that the father used this flight to serve as his daughter’s makeshift pillow? Let us know how you feel by leaving a comment.
Leave a Reply