My Dad’s Entitled Girlfriend Mocks My Stuttering until She Finds Out Who I Am – It Was Time to Dot the I’s

I thought it was going to be a normal day at work until a stranger mocked me for something I had no control over. When I discovered who the stranger was, I didn’t hold back in calling her out. The best thing about the confrontation was that my father had my back.

I am sure I am not the only person who’s heard that if your partner mistreats service workers, that should be a red flag for your relationship. Their mistreatment is a sign that they look down on people who they feel are beneath them.

A waitress taking an order from customers | Source: Pixabay

A waitress taking an order from customers | Source: Pixabay

I learned this lesson during a recent and unexpected incident. See, I had been working at this restaurant for a year while busy with my Anthropology studies.

I would whip out my books and study between orders and when it was a slow day in the restaurant. Today was a busy day, and I hadn’t yet had a chance to go through my schoolwork, and worried I’d fall behind.

A waitress taking an order from customers | Source: Pixabay

A waitress taking an order from customers | Source: Pixabay

Juggling a part-time job and school isn’t easy. On that typical late evening, a middle-aged woman in a red dress walked into the establishment. For some reason, I distinctly felt a twinge of nerves.

She exuded an air of entitlement, and her sharp gaze scanned the room critically. Even so, I approached her with my usual courtesy, ready to take her order. “Good evening! I’m Alice. May I take your order, please?” I greeted her warmly with a broad and inviting smile.

A woman smiling while holding a book | Source: Pexels

A woman smiling while holding a book | Source: Pexels

I hoped my positive demeanor would calm her down because standing close to her, I could FEEL her bristling with annoyance. Her eyes narrowed as she looked me up and down, clearly unimpressed.

I instantly cringed physically as if she’d hit me or touched me unexpectedly. “And what is this new look you’re showing off, young lady? Where is your apron?” she snapped.

I felt a familiar tightening in my throat, my stutter threatening to emerge. “M-ma’am, I, I’m…”

Alice taking an order from Donna | Source: Midjourney

Alice taking an order from Donna | Source: Midjourney

She rolled her eyes dramatically, cutting me off. “I can’t HEAR you! Do you speak normal English? God, I’ll fire you straight away when I own this little shack.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was on the verge of tears as I tried to make sense of her statement. I wondered what she meant by owning the restaurant. I was about to open my mouth to defend myself and the establishment she’d reduced to a “shack,” when something happened.

An emotional woman | Source: Pexels

An emotional woman | Source: Pexels

Just then, my dad’s voice rang out from behind her. “Oh, you already met each other, perfect!”

Met each other? What was he talking about… What happened next became an absolutely gorgeous and memorable moment because the stranger started stuttering!

“H-h-honey, what do you mean?!” she asked, her previous bravado vanishing.

My dad walked over, smiling warmly. “You still don’t get it? This is my daughter, Alice!” he said, pulling me close for a one-armed hug.

A father hugging his daughter | Source: Pexels

A father hugging his daughter | Source: Pexels

Her face turned a shade of crimson as she looked back at me, her demeanor shifting from arrogant to flustered in a heartbeat! At that moment, I realized the MOST interesting part of the evening was about to begin!

The thought of crying was long gone as my father’s presence bolstered me. “Please, continue with what you were saying, ma’am. What were you saying you were going to do after you fired me when you own, what did you call it again? Ah yes! This shack?” I asked, grinning widely.

A woman smiling while holding a notebook | Source: Pexels

A woman smiling while holding a notebook | Source: Pexels

She stammered, trying to salvage the situation. “Oh, darling, you didn’t get the gist of what I was saying.”

“What were you saying, Donna?” my father asked as he started putting two and two together.

“Well, darling, of course, I was just j-j-joking!”

The woman punctuated the last word with a fake smile that convinced no one!

I raised an eyebrow, mimicking her earlier tone. “Oh, what’s wrong with YOUR English? So you can s-s-stutter and others can’t?”

An upset woman with a raised eyebrow | Source: Freepik

An upset woman with a raised eyebrow | Source: Freepik

My dad stood there, speechless, trying to process the situation.

I took a deep breath and turned to him, my heart pounding. “Dad, I’m sorry, but it seems like your taste in women failed after Mom.”

Donna reached out to him, but he stepped back, his expression hardening. “Please, honey, you have to understand. It was all a misunderstanding,” she pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice.

Donna defending herself while Alice looks on | Source: Midjourney

Donna defending herself while Alice looks on | Source: Midjourney

He shook his head, his disappointment evident. “I simply CAN NOT believe you’d talk like that with my daughter. Moreover, you didn’t know it was her, so that’s how you talk to service people?”

Donna’s eyes widened with desperation as she realized that things were backfiring on her.

I stood opposite my dad with a smug look and arms folded as I listened to their back and forth.

A father and his daughter standing with folded arms | Source: Freepik

A father and his daughter standing with folded arms | Source: Freepik

“No, no, I didn’t MEAN it that way. I just… I was having a bad day!” she exclaimed, sounding exasperated.

“Even a bad day wouldn’t excuse your behavior, Donna. You showed me your true colors,” my father said, his words marked with sadness.

“And those colors aren’t very pretty,” I added, siding with my dad.

A disappointed woman | Source: Freepik

A disappointed woman | Source: Freepik

“Please, give me another chance. I promise I’ll do and be better,” Donna begged softly, her voice breaking as all her arrogance went out the door. She never expected to get caught showing her true self.

A part of me felt sorry for her. It was clear from how she was reacting that she loved my dad, but how she treated me said a lot about her character. I wondered how many more people she had abused while they rendered services to her.

An unhappy woman holding a notebook | Source: Pexels

An unhappy woman holding a notebook | Source: Pexels

Whether she loved my dad or not didn’t matter if she wasn’t a good person and, as they say, “First impressions last.”

My dad looked at her with a mixture of sadness and resolve. “No, I think it’s best if we part ways. I can’t be with someone who disrespects my daughter and others like that.”

“Goodbye, and enjoy your last meal here, because I don’t think you’ll be welcome back,” I said, feeling a surge of confidence.

A woman smiling while standing next to her father | Source: Freepik

A woman smiling while standing next to her father | Source: Freepik

Donna’s face twisted in anger and humiliation as she opened her mouth to say something. But she thought against it before storming out of the restaurant. My dad turned to me, his expression softening. “I’m so sorry, Alice. I had no idea she was like that.”

“It’s okay, Dad. I’m just glad you know now,” I replied, feeling a wave of relief.

We hugged, and the other patrons in the restaurant, who had been quietly watching the scene, began to clap. I felt a surge of pride, knowing I stood up for myself and that my dad had my back. His entitled girlfriend was gone, and my dad and I could move forward without her toxic presence.

A father hugging his daughter | Source: Pexels

A father hugging his daughter | Source: Pexels

As the evening wound down, the restaurant became quieter. My dad and I sat at one of the tables, sharing a cup of coffee. The confrontation was still fresh in our minds, and we found solace in each other’s company.

“Dad, why did you never tell her about me?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

He sighed, stirring his coffee absentmindedly. “I wanted to, but it never seemed like the right time. I didn’t think she’d react like that.”

A sad father talking to his daughter | Source: Pexels

A sad father talking to his daughter | Source: Pexels

“Well, now you know,” I said, a hint of bitterness creeping into my voice. “It’s not the first time someone has mocked my stutter, but it hurt more coming from someone you cared about.”

He reached across the table, taking my hand in his. “I’m so proud of you, my angel. You’ve grown into such a strong and resilient young woman.”

His words warmed my heart, and I smiled at him. “Thanks, Dad. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

A happy woman smiling | Source: Pexels

A happy woman smiling | Source: Pexels

“I noticed how heartbroken you were to have to end your relationship. I am sorry, Dad,” I said, reaching out to hug him tightly.

“Thanks, pumpkin,” he smiled. “I did love her. We were together for almost a year, and I thought she was the one until today.”

I was sad for my father but secretly relieved that Donna didn’t become my stepmother. Something told me that my stutter would have been the least of my worries when it came to that rude woman. But luckily, fate played a good hand for me.

A sad father with his daughter | Source: Pexels

A sad father with his daughter | Source: Pexels

As the evening progressed, we talked about everything and nothing. The restaurant staff, who had seen the earlier drama, gave me nods of approval and supportive smiles. I felt a newfound sense of belonging and acceptance.

A few days later, life at the restaurant returned to normal. The regulars came and went, the kitchen buzzed with activity, and the waitstaff moved swiftly to keep up with the dinner rush. I felt a renewed sense of purpose and confidence in my work.

Happy patrons at a restaurant | Source: Pexels

Happy patrons at a restaurant | Source: Pexels

Later that night, as I was cleaning up, my dad approached me with a thoughtful expression. “I’ve been thinking about what happened with Donna,” he said.

I looked up from wiping down a table. “Yeah?”

“I realized that I’ve been too focused on finding someone new, and I haven’t been paying enough attention to you,” he admitted.

“Dad, it’s okay. I want you to be happy,” I replied, meaning every word.

A daughter comforting her father | Source: Pexels

A daughter comforting her father | Source: Pexels

He shook his head. “No, it’s not okay. I need to be there for YOU more. You’ve always been there for me, and I want to do the same for you.”

I felt a lump in my throat, touched by his sincerity. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.”

We hugged again, and I knew our bond had grown stronger through this experience. The restaurant became more than just a place of work; it was a place of growth, resilience, and family.

A father and his daughter embracing | Source: Pexels

A father and his daughter embracing | Source: Pexels

The incident with Donna reminded me that people’s true colors always come out eventually. My dad’s ex-girlfriend learned that lesson the hard way. That mocking others, especially family, has consequences. And for me, it was a sweet victory, knowing I stood up for myself!

A happy waitress standing at a restaurant's door | Source: Pexels

My MIL Mistreated My Son from My Previous Marriage When I Wasn’t Around — When I Found Out, I Taught Her a Proper Lesson

Alice always thought her mother-in-law, Linda, was a kind and respectable woman. But when she discovered Linda’s cruel treatment of her 12-year-old son from a previous marriage, Alice planned a public revenge that would destroy Linda’s perfect reputation for good.

I’ve always thought my mother-in-law, Linda, was a good woman. She’s a school teacher, well-respected, and always smiling. It seemed like she loved my sons, Peter, who’s 12, and Matthew, 6. Peter is from my first marriage. His dad passed away when Peter was only four. It was a hard time for both of us, but I did my best to raise him on my own.

A woman hugging her sons | Source: Midjourney

A woman hugging her sons | Source: Midjourney

Four years later, I met Greg. He’s kind, soft-spoken, and never likes conflict. He’s a great dad to Matthew, and he tries with Peter, but sometimes he lets his mom, Linda, have too much say in our family. He doesn’t stand up to her. And, well, I never thought he had to. I thought she cared for us all.

Lately, though, something’s been bothering me. Peter has seemed quieter, more withdrawn, especially after spending time with Linda. I’d ask him, “Is everything okay, honey?” and he’d just shrug, “Yeah, I’m fine, Mom.” But I could tell something was off. I didn’t want to push him, so I waited, hoping he’d open up when he was ready.

A sad boy | Source: Pexels

A sad boy | Source: Pexels

Then one day, I decided to pick up the boys from Linda’s house unannounced. Peter and Matthew were staying there for a few days each week during summer break, and I thought it would be nice to surprise them. I packed up some of their favorite food and a couple of new toys and headed over.

As I pulled into her driveway, I smiled, imagining the boys’ faces when they saw me. I didn’t knock—I never do. It’s family, after all. I reached for the doorknob, expecting to hear laughter or the sound of them playing. Instead, what I heard made me stop in my tracks.

A woman standing by the door | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing by the door | Source: Midjourney

“Peter! I told you to stay in the room and not come out, you little—”

My heart froze. I heard Peter’s voice, small and shaky, “Grandma, please, I’m sorry…”

“I’m not your grandma! Don’t you ever call me that again! You’ll stay in that room until I say you can come out. Understand?”

Then, I heard Matthew. His voice was soft, “Please, Grandma, don’t be mad at Peter. He didn’t mean it.”

A sad boy sitting on a chair | Source: Pexels

A sad boy sitting on a chair | Source: Pexels

I needed to act, but I couldn’t just storm in. I had to be smart about it. My hands were shaking as I reached into my bag for my phone. I pressed record.

Linda’s response was sharp. “You listen to me, Matthew. He’s not your brother, and he never will be. You don’t need to defend him.”

I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me. How could she say such horrible things to my son? To both of them?

A woman holding her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman holding her phone | Source: Pexels

I stood there, recording everything—the cruel words, Peter’s sobs, Linda’s coldness. My heart was breaking, but I kept filming. I needed to have proof. I had to show Greg. He had to know what kind of woman his mother really was.

Once I had enough, I pushed the door open with a forced smile. “Surprise!” I called out, my voice trembling slightly, though I hoped she wouldn’t notice.

Peter didn’t look at me. He kept his head down, his eyes fixed on the floor. Matthew ran to me, hugging my leg. “Mom! You’re here!”

A boy hugging his mother | Source: Midjourney

A boy hugging his mother | Source: Midjourney

“Of course, sweetie,” I said, stroking his hair and glancing over at Peter, who stayed near the door, looking so small and sad.

“Peter,” I said gently, “come here, sweetheart.” He hesitated but slowly made his way over to me. I hugged him tightly, my heart aching as I felt his little body trembling. “Everything okay?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Before Peter could respond, Linda jumped in. “Oh, he’s just a little upset about a game we were playing. Right, Peter?”

A smiling middle-aged woman | Source: Pexels

A smiling middle-aged woman | Source: Pexels

Peter glanced at her, then back at me, his face pale. “Yeah…just a game.”

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to smile at Linda. “Well, it looks like you’ve had a long day. I’ll take the boys home now.”

As I led the boys out to the car, I could feel Linda’s eyes on me. I didn’t say a word, but I knew she knew. And she knew I wasn’t the same trusting daughter-in-law anymore.

A middle-aged woman looking over her shoulder | Source: Pexels

A middle-aged woman looking over her shoulder | Source: Pexels

We got into the car, and I drove in silence, my mind racing with what I had just witnessed.

I could hardly keep my fury in check as I drove home. Linda had smiled, played the sweet grandmother, all while my son suffered. My heart pounded in my chest, but I knew I had to stay calm for Peter and Matthew. They didn’t need to see my anger, not yet.

Back home, Peter went straight to his room, and Matthew followed behind. As soon as they were out of sight, I collapsed onto the couch, pulling out my phone to watch the video again. The raw anger in Linda’s voice, her cruel words, echoed in my ears.

A woman looking at her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman looking at her phone | Source: Pexels

I had to do something. I couldn’t just let this go. But how could I expose her without making things worse for the boys?

I didn’t sleep much that night. My mind raced, imagining all the ways I could get back at her. By morning, I had a plan. It wasn’t enough just to confront her. I had to make sure the whole world saw the truth.

A sleepless woman lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

A sleepless woman lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

A few days later, I heard through a friend that the school where Linda worked was holding a big celebration where teachers would be honored, and Linda was supposed to give a speech. It was the perfect opportunity. If I timed it right, I could reveal her true nature in front of the entire school.

I transferred the video to a USB drive, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction as I imagined Linda’s face when the footage played. But I knew I couldn’t do it alone. I needed someone who could help me set it up. That’s when I called my friend Sarah, who has always been good with technology.

A woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels

We made a plan. I’d attend the event like any other parent, sit quietly in the audience, and Sarah would take care of the rest. As Linda walked on stage to deliver her speech, Sarah would play the video for the whole room to see.

The day of the event came quickly. I dressed simply, blending in with the other parents as we gathered in the school auditorium. The atmosphere was festive—students running around, parents chatting, teachers mingling. Linda was there, smiling, laughing, shaking hands with colleagues. She had no idea what was about to happen.

Young children running around in a school yard | Source: Midjourney

Young children running around in a school yard | Source: Midjourney

As the principal took the stage and introduced the event, I spotted Sarah sitting near the tech booth, giving me a discreet nod. Everything was in place.

“And now, we’ll hear from one of our most respected teachers,” the principal announced. “Please welcome your beloved teacher, Mrs. Rodgers.”

The applause was thunderous as Linda walked up to the microphone, a confident smile on her face. She began her speech, talking about the importance of education, community, and kindness. The hypocrisy of it all made my blood boil.

A middle-aged woman talking on stage | Source: Midjourney

A middle-aged woman talking on stage | Source: Midjourney

Then, it happened.

Suddenly, the screen behind her flickered, and the sound of Linda’s voice—her real voice—filled the room. “You listen to me, Matthew. He’s not your brother, and he never will be.” Her harsh words echoed through the auditorium.

Gasps filled the room. Parents exchanged horrified looks. Some covered their mouths in disbelief. Teachers, once smiling and proud, were now staring at Linda with shock and disgust.

A shocked woman in the audience | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman in the audience | Source: Midjourney

Linda froze on stage. Her face went pale as she realized what was happening. She turned toward the screen, her mouth hanging open in horror. There was no escape. Every hateful word, every cruel insult she had thrown at Peter was laid bare for everyone to witness.

The video ended, leaving a stunned silence in its wake. Then, the murmurs began. Parents were whispering, shaking their heads, outraged. One mother stood up and shouted, “I don’t want her teaching my child!” Others quickly followed, their voices rising in anger.

A woman shouting from the audience | Source: Midjourney

A woman shouting from the audience | Source: Midjourney

“I can’t believe this! She’s a monster!”

“How can someone like that work with children?”

The principal, looking flustered, hurried to the microphone. “Please, everyone, calm down. We… we will address this immediately.” He shot a panicked glance at Linda, who stood frozen, unable to move, her career crumbling before her eyes.

A panicked principal on stage | Source: Midjourney

A panicked principal on stage | Source: Midjourney

Within minutes, parents were demanding that their children be removed from Linda’s class. The school board had no choice but to act swiftly. By the end of the day, Linda was suspended, pending a full investigation. Her once-respected career as a teacher was over.

As I drove home that evening, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. I had done what I had to do. I protected my son, and I exposed Linda for who she really was. It wasn’t easy, but I knew it was right.

A woman driving | Source: Pexels

A woman driving | Source: Pexels

Peter and Matthew were playing quietly when I got home. I hugged them both, feeling lighter than I had in days. They didn’t know what happened at the school, and they didn’t need to. All that mattered was that they were safe, and Linda would never hurt Peter again.

Sometimes, justice comes in ways you don’t expect. But when it does, it’s worth every moment.

A smiling woman | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman | Source: Pexels

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*