Tired of allowing her cold and callous mother-in-law to ruin her husband’s birthday, Lila plans to hide Carol’s birthday present from Bill and save him the hurt and disappointment that usually comes with his mother’s gifts. But when Lila’s secret comes out, a series of events unfolds, resulting in Lila being called out by the family.

I could tell my husband, Bill, was nervous. His birthday was coming up, and every year, his mom’s gift felt like a slap in the face.

Bill sat on our worn-out couch, his shoulders tense.

“Do you think she’ll actually care this time?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

I sighed, placing my hand on his. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. I knew that I needed to reassure him, but my husband’s relationship with his mother was complicated.

“Maybe,” I said. “But remember, we’re celebrating your birthday, not hers. We’ll have a great time, no matter what, darling.”

Bill smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I knew how much he wanted to feel loved and appreciated by Carol, but she always failed to show him that. It wasn’t just about the gifts. It was about the feeling.

Bill had told me the story a long time ago. He was from his mother’s first marriage, and while their relationship was strong, things took a turn when Carol met her second husband, Adam.

It became even worse when Bill’s younger brothers were born. Suddenly, Carol only had eyes for Adam and their sons, making it clear to Bill.

“Okay,” he said. “This year will be different.”

Deep down I knew that nothing would change. Carol was so set in her ways that nothing would ever make her see the error of her ways.

Two days before his birthday, a small package arrived. Bill and I weren’t at home, so our neighbor, Tom, took it in.

“Hey, Lila,” he said. “I just got home and there was a delivery for you. I have signed for it, so you can just fetch it from me later.”

“Thanks, Tom!” I said. “Please send me a photo?”

Moments later, Tom texted me a photo of the package. It was a wrapped box with a note on it that read:

Maybe this will keep you on your toes!

I knew immediately that it was from Carol.

Not again. Not another gift that would only remind Bill of how little his mother seemed to care. I stared at the photo, my stomach sinking as a mix of anger and sadness.

How could she be so blind to the impact of her actions?

“What’s that? What are you looking at?” Bill asked as we moved through the grocery store, the cart rattling between us.

“Nothing important,” I said. “Just one of the girls from work.”

I texted Tom back:

I’ll come get it soon, thank you!

Tom’s response was quick:

Sure thing! Don’t worry about it.

That evening when we got home, I told Bill that I was going to run an errand while he cooked dinner.

“I just need to get something from Lisa across the road,” I said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Sure, honey,” he said, tossing chicken around a pan.

Tom opened the front door with a smile.

“Hi,” he said as though he had been expecting me all afternoon. “Come on in.”

I entered his home, my eyes immediately falling to the package on the table.

“What’s so secretive about this package?” he asked, hovering as I inspected the note.

“It’s from Carol, Bill’s mother. Every year she always sends some horrid birthday present for Bill. And it always crushes him.”

“What do you mean?” Tom asked. “Not fancy enough?”

“Not even close,” I replied. “It’s always something thoughtless and cold. That’s why I want to see what’s in here. If it’s her usual standard, then I’m going to leave it behind.”

Inside the package was a single pair of socks.

“She’s ridiculous,” I said out loud.

Tom looked at me with his eyes wide.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked, shaking his head.

The night before Bill’s birthday, we were having cocktails at home and I decided to tell him about the package. I knew that he would wait for something from his mother, and I didn’t want it to cloud the day.

“Darling,” I said. “Your mom sent a package, but we were out. So, Tom took it in. He said that we can get it from him later; he’s out for the day.”

My husband’s face lit up.

“It’s okay, love,” he said. “We’ve got enough to focus on tomorrow.”

And focus we did.

I had planned the perfect birthday afternoon for Bill. We had invited a few friends over, and I went all out with the food and cake.

The best part was that everyone who showed up brought thoughtful presents that showed Bill just how much he meant to each of us.

My husband was happier than I’d seen him in a while. Hearing his laughter and seeing the joy in his eyes were a stark contrast to the usual disappointment he faced during his birthday.

A few days later, it was as though Tom had forgotten about our arrangement, and there he stood at our front door, holding the package. His breath smelt faintly of alcohol, explaining his mistake.

“My dad was just as bad at picking gifts,” he said, walking in. “This is from your mother.”

Bill chuckled, his curiosity piqued.

“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.”

As he opened the package and pulled out the socks, his expression changed from curious to crestfallen.

“Seriously?” he muttered, the hurt clear in his eyes.

I put my arm around him.

“I didn’t want this to ruin your birthday. I’m so sorry, honey,” I said.

Bill took a deep breath.

“I get it, Lila. Thanks for trying to protect me,” he said.

But I could see the disappointment still lingering. It wasn’t just about the socks; it was about the consistent neglect from his mother.

Unfortunately, Bill’s brother, Mike, was at our place too. And he had heard the entire interaction.

“Why would you hide it?” he asked me. “It’s just a gift.”

“Just a gift?” I shot back. “You don’t see the pattern here? Really? Every year she goes out of her way for you and Sam, but Bill just gets this?”

Mike shrugged.

“He’s older. He doesn’t need expensive stuff.”

“But he has never gotten good gifts, even when he was your age,” I countered. “It’s not about the money, Mike. It’s about the thought behind it.”

Things escalated quickly from there. Mike, being the mama’s boy that he was, phoned their mother and told her everything.

Soon, my phone began buzzing with messages. My mother-in-law, Carol, was furious.

How dare you hide my gift, Lila? You horrid girl. You are spoiled and mean.

It didn’t stop there!

In the family group chat, Carol blasted me, calling me toxic and accusing me of ruining her relationship with Bill. His brothers jumped in, siding with their mom, saying I had no right to interfere.

“I’m not going to entertain this,” I told Bill, as he gulped his beer down.

I typed out a long message, detailing all the years of thoughtless gifts Jake had received compared to his brothers.

I was trying to give my husband, your son, a birthday without any hurt or disappointment. He deserves to feel special too.

The response was brutal. They kicked me out of the group chat, and Jake left shortly after.

Carol messaged me privately later, calling me toxic again, and blaming me for driving a wedge between Bill and his family.

But I knew the truth: my husband had been hurting long before I came along.

One evening, while we were taking a walk around our neighborhood, my husband turned to me.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe it’s time to create some new traditions. Ones that don’t include waiting for a package from my mom.”

“I’d like that. How about we start planning something special for your next birthday?” I asked.

Bill grinned.

“How about a road trip? Just the two of us?”

What would you have done?