Seventeen-year-old Andrew is used to getting what he wants and treating people badly when he doesn’t get it, but his father decides it’s time Andrew learned a lesson about respect when he mistreats a flight attendant.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?”
Steven had been watching his seventeen-year-old son walk toward the airport boarding gate, but now he looked down at his wife.
“Of course Andrew will be okay,” he replied.
“I hope this new school can help him learn some humility.”
“But what if they treat him badly in the dorms?” Steven’s wife looked up at him. “He’s never been to boarding school before.”
“That’s the point.” Steven clenched his jaw. “Andrew has become spoiled and he needs to learn some tough lessons about life.”
Months later, Andrew was flying home for the holidays after his first semester of boarding school. He’d hated every minute of his time there and was eager to return to his high-powered computer and the luxury car he got for his sixteenth birthday.
“Hey, you.” Andrew waved to the flight attendant, a redhead woman with freckles.
“How can I help you, sir?” The flight attendant smiled at him.
“You can get me something better to snack on than these peanuts.” Andrew threw the bag of peanuts at her.
The flight attendant’s smile turned into a frown. “Sir, please don’t throw things at me.”
“I’ll do what I like,” Andrew replied. “You’re here to serve me, so stop complaining and do your job.”
“Don’t talk to her like that.” The older man in the seat beside Andrew turned to look at him.
“Just because it’s her job to serve us doesn’t mean you can disrespect her.”
Andrew rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers at the flight attendant. “I’m still waiting for my snack.”
The flight attendant walked away with her eyes downcast. The older man in the next seat shook his head.
“Your parents must be so disappointed in you,” the elderly man muttered.
“Nobody asked you, old man.” Andrew began scrolling through the movie options.
After a few minutes, the flight attendant returned with a pretzel.
“Here you go, sir,” she said and held out the pretzel to him. “If there’s anything else —”
Andrew sneered and slapped the pretzel out of her hand. “I don’t want a pretzel!”
The flight attendant recoiled, tears forming in her eyes. “Peanuts and pretzels are the only snacks we serve on this flight.”
“That’s pathetic, just like you.” Andrew leaned forward in his seat. “Go and fetch me a proper snack, now!”
“How dare you talk to her like that?” A woman rose from her seat across the aisle and put a hand on the flight attendant’s arm.
“If she did her job then I wouldn’t have to.” Andrew pointed at the flight attendant.
“She’s a servant, and a bad one too.”
The flight attendant burst into tears. The woman passenger tried to comfort her.
“Somebody ought to give you a hiding, young man.” The elderly passenger in the seat next to Andrew scowled at him.
“I agree.” Somebody placed a hand on his shoulder.
At that moment, Andrew understood what his father had been trying to teach him.
Andrew recognized that voice. He turned and stared in surprise when he saw his dad behind him. His face was red with anger.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” Andrew asked.
“Flying home from a business trip,” Steven replied. “I hoped we might meet on the plane, but I never imagined it would be like this. Apologize to this young lady and the other passengers immediately.”
Andrew hunched his shoulders and mumbled an apology. He didn’t see what the big deal was, but he knew better than to disobey his father when he was so angry.
When Andrew and his father got home, Steven marched him straight to his office on the second floor of the luxurious house.
“This comes to an end right now.”
Steven shut the door and turned to point at Andrew. “Your behavior is disgusting. I hoped that you might learn manners in boarding school, but it seems I was wrong.”
“Why are you making such a big deal out of this?” Andrew threw out his arms. “She’s just a flight attendant. It’s not like she’s important.”
“And that’s your problem, Andrew. You think you’re better than others because you were born into a wealthy family, and that you can treat others badly because of that.” Steven crossed his arms. “That’s going to change.”
“What does that mean?”
“You won’t be going back to that school. You’ll finish your education at a public school, and you’re going to spend your holiday working.”
“Working?” Andrew straightened up. “Are you giving me a job at your company?”
Steven smiled. “You could say that. I’m going to give you a job in my cleaning company, as a janitor.”
Andrew was horrified.
“I won’t do it!”
“You will because I’m also cutting off all your privileges. I’m taking your bank cards, your computer, your car, and your cell phone. I’m even taking your branded clothes.” Steven put his hands on his hips. “You’re going to find out what it means to respect people.”
Andrew had no choice. His father took his possessions from him, and he started his job as an airport janitor the next day.
Andrew knew nothing about cleaning. The older woman he was assigned to work with laughed at him for not knowing how to sweep or mop. He shouted at her for laughing at him and threatened to get her fired.
“No, you won’t,” she replied, shaking her finger at him. “Your father warned me about you, now get to work. These floors don’t clean themselves.”
Andrew sighed and started sweeping. He was clumsy, and his supervisor teased him about it. Andrew got angry, but there was nothing he could do about it.
He was cleaning the trash cans when something hit him. He turned and saw that somebody had thrown an empty takeaway carton at him.
“Hey!” Andrew shouted at the man who’d thrown the carton. “How dare you throw that at me.”
The man ignored Andrew, so he ran after him and grabbed his arm.
“I’m talking to you,” Andrew said.
The man shook Andrew off so hard that he fell to the ground. “Get your filthy hands off me, you dirty janitor.”
Andrew watched the man walk away in shock. Was this how it felt to be treated like you didn’t matter? Andrew didn’t like it. He looked around just as somebody kicked him.
“Get out of the way, you lazy bum.” The woman who’d kicked him sneered at him.
“I’m going to report you for sleeping on the job.”
At that moment, Andrew understood what his father had been trying to teach him. He knew now how much it hurt to be mistreated by people who thought they were better than you.
A flash of red caught his eye, and Andrew looked up. He recognized the flight attendant he’d been rude to and hurried across to her.
“I’m so sorry,” he said when he reached her. “I treated you so badly.”
The woman was surprised to see him, but she smiled when he apologized.
“I’m glad you’ve learned the error of your ways,” she said.
What can we learn from this story?
Everyone deserves respect. It doesn’t matter if somebody works a menial job; they’re still a person and deserve to be treated respectfully.
Sometimes children need to learn a lesson the hard way. It can be difficult for children to understand the true depth of important life lessons when they’ve never experienced that situation.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
My MIL Left the House Every Thursday & Returned Smelling Terribly — I Went Pale When I Discovered Why
They say you never really know someone until you’ve lived with them. I thought I knew my mother-in-law, but everything changed when I decided to follow her. What I uncovered wasn’t just a secret; it was a ticking time bomb that threatened the peace of our home.
I used to think my life was predictable, with its comforting routine. I worked as a freelance graphic designer, which gave me the flexibility to be home most days while still bringing in a decent income.
A woman working on her laptop from home | Source: Midjourney
Xander, my husband, worked long hours at his law firm, so I often had the house to myself. It was peaceful until my mother-in-law, Cordelia, moved in three months ago.
After her husband passed away, she called us one night, her voice trembling.
“Olive, dear… I don’t know how to do this on my own,” she’d sobbed over the phone. “The house is so empty, so lonely… I just need to be around my family.”
An extremely sad senior woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney
I glanced at Xander, and he nodded, looking concerned. We agreed to let Cordelia move in; it felt like the right thing to do for a grieving woman who’d just lost her partner of 40 years. But from the start, something felt off.
Cordelia had always been a little strange, but now her behavior was unpredictable. Every Thursday, she would leave early in the morning and return late in the evening, her clothes carrying a terrible stench: something rotten and damp, like decay. It lingered, clinging to the air and making me question what she was really up to.
A woman looks thoughtful and curious while sitting at home | Source: Midjourney
“Mom, where were you today?” Xander asked her one Thursday evening as she shuffled into the kitchen, her eyes avoiding ours. I stood by the stove, pretending to stir a pot of soup, trying not to wrinkle my nose at the smell.
“Oh, just out with some old friends,” she said, waving a hand dismissively, her smile tight and unconvincing.
A senior woman forces a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
“Every Thursday?” I asked, keeping my tone casual. “That must be some social circle.”
She glanced at me, her eyes lingering a moment too long, then shrugged. “We like to meet regularly. It’s good for the soul, you know, catching up with old friends.”
But that smell — it was like she’d been crawling through a sewer. The scent lingered long after she’d passed, a pungent blend of garbage and something wet and decayed. I could feel my curiosity gnawing at me, the way you can’t help but poke at a sore tooth.
A curious woman standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
One Wednesday night, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Xander,” I whispered, nudging him awake. “Are you seriously buying that story?”
He blinked sleepily. “What story?”
“Your mom’s ‘out with old friends’ story,” I replied. “Every Thursday? And that smell… it’s not normal.”
He sighed. “Maybe she’s just grieving in her own way, Olive. People cope differently.”
I felt my jaw tighten. “And what way is that? Dumpster diving?”
He chuckled softly, half-asleep, “Let it go, love. It’s probably nothing.”
A man chuckles softly while lying in bed at night | Source: Midjourney
But it didn’t feel like “nothing.” It felt like a secret, and I needed to know.
The next Thursday, I called in sick and decided to follow her. I waited by the window, peeking through the blinds like some kind of amateur detective. Cordelia left the house at her usual time, dressed in her oversized coat, clutching her handbag tightly.
I kept a safe distance as she walked down the street, turning left at the end and then another left into an alley I didn’t even know existed. My heart pounded in my chest as I tailed her.
A woman is out on the street, looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
She stopped at the corner and looked around like she was checking for someone or something.
“Where are you going, Cordelia?” I whispered, more curious than ever.
I was expecting something harmless, maybe even laughable, like an old ladies’ knitting club or maybe a bingo night in a creepy basement. But what I found inside was nothing like that.
Cordelia didn’t meet up with friends. Instead, she made her way through the shadiest part of town, slipping into an old, run-down building that looked like it could collapse at any moment.
A senior woman standing outside an old building | Source: Midjourney
I hesitated outside, the walls covered in graffiti and the windows boarded up, but I took a deep breath and followed her inside. The air was thick with smoke, the kind that sticks to your skin, and the room was filled with the low hum of murmurs and distant laughter.
That’s when I saw it: a hidden, illegal casino tucked away in the back, reeking of stale smoke and the sour smell of desperation. The dimly lit room was filled with flashing lights and the sounds of poker chips clinking filled the air.
Stacks of poker chips on a table | Source: Pexels
And there, in the middle of it all, was my mother-in-law. Not just “hanging out with friends,” but gambling away every penny she could get her hands on, her eyes fixed on the cards in front of her, her hands trembling with each bet she placed.
I stayed in the shadows, barely breathing, watching her play hand after hand. She looked different, haggard, almost like she was wearing the weight of every decision she’d ever made. Her lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying over the noise.
A grayscale photo of a senior woman sitting in a casino with gambling chips lying on her table | Source: Midjourney
I saw her lose money, win a little, then lose it all again. She seemed almost possessed, her fingers shaking as she reached for the chips, her face lined with a mixture of desperation and obsession.
I wanted to pull her out of there, to grab her by the arm and drag her home, but I couldn’t move. I felt frozen, glued to the spot. I needed to see how far she would go. She didn’t leave until late in the evening, and when she finally did, she looked exhausted.
A senior woman looks exhausted while sitting in a casino | Source: Midjourney
Her eyes were glazed over, and her shoulders slumped like she was carrying the weight of her losses on her back.
I waited until she turned the corner before I followed, keeping my distance. As we walked back, I felt a wave of anger and pity twisting in my stomach. What had she gotten herself into? And why hadn’t she told us?
The next morning, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. At breakfast, I set my coffee cup down a little too hard. “Cordelia, where were you yesterday?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.
A woman looks serious while standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
She barely looked up from her cereal. “With friends, like I told you.”
“Stop lying, Cordelia,” I snapped. “I followed you. I know where you were.”
Her spoon clattered against the bowl, and she went pale. “You… you followed me?”
Xander looked between us, confused. “What’s going on?”
“She wasn’t with friends, Xander,” I said, my gaze fixed on her. “She was at an illegal casino, gambling. And from the looks of it, she’s been doing it for a while.”
A senior woman gambling in a casino | Source: Midjourney
Cordelia’s face crumpled, and she broke down. “I… I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’ve lost everything… everything. I had nowhere else to go. That’s why I begged you to let me stay. I was ashamed, and I didn’t know how to tell you…”
Xander’s face turned a deep shade of red. “You mean to tell me you’ve been lying to us this whole time? Using us?”
“I didn’t mean to!” she cried. “I didn’t know how to stop. I thought maybe… maybe I could win it all back.”
A grayscale photo of a senior woman looking sad and desperate | Source: Midjourney
I felt a pang of guilt, but it was overshadowed by the anger boiling inside me. “You’ve been draining us, Cordelia. We took you in because we cared, not so you could feed your addiction.”
She looked at me, her face streaked with tears. “I know, I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll change. Just… don’t throw me out. Please.”
That night, Xander and I lay in bed, unable to sleep. “We have to do something,” I whispered. “We can’t just let her keep doing this.”
Xander sighed deeply. “What do you suggest, Olive? Tough love?”
A man looking at his wife while sitting in bed at night | Source: Midjourney
I nodded. “Exactly. If she’s not going to stop on her own, then we’ll have to make her stop.”
The following Thursday, I handed her a large sum of cash, more than she had seen in one place since she’d moved in with us. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I saw that familiar spark of greed.
“Go ahead,” I said, forcing a smile. “Take this and do whatever you want with it.”
A woman forcing a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
She hesitated for just a second before snatching the money and stuffing it into her purse.
“Thank you, Olive,” she murmured, her voice shaking, but she didn’t meet my eyes. And then she was gone, practically running out the door.
Xander stood behind me, his arms crossed. “Are you sure about this?”
“Trust me,” I replied. “She won’t get far.”
Earlier that day, I had made a few calls, and by the time Cordelia reached the casino, the place was swarming with undercover cops. The raid went down right as she was about to hand over the cash.
Two cops standing in a casino | Source: Midjourney
I wasn’t there to see it, but I could imagine the look on her face: shock, maybe a little betrayal, as they caught her red-handed, along with the owners of the illegal casino.
That evening, the phone rang. It was the police. “Mrs. Fields?” the officer said. “We have your mother-in-law in custody.”
“We know,” I replied calmly. “And we’re not bailing her out. You should know she’s been struggling with a gambling addiction. We want her to get help.”
A woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney
The officer seemed taken aback but eventually agreed to include our statement in the report. The judge showed no mercy; Cordelia was sentenced to mandatory rehabilitation and a hefty fine.
Months later, when she was released from rehab, Cordelia looked different. She seemed smaller, more fragile. She stood in our doorway, wringing her hands.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I know I hurt you both, and I’m ready to make it right. I want to rebuild my life.”
A senior woman looks sad and ashamed | Source: Midjourney
Xander and I exchanged a look. He stepped forward, his expression soft but firm.
“We’re willing to give you another chance, Mom,” he said, “but on our terms. We’ve found you a modest apartment nearby. We’ll cover the rent, but only if you keep your word and attend your support group meetings.”
Cordelia nodded eagerly, tears in her eyes. “I will. I swear. Thank you… thank you for giving me a chance.”
As we watched her walk away to her new home, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope mixed with the fear of another betrayal.
A woman looks hopeful and a bit fearful while standing outside her house and looking at something | Source: Midjourney
We’d done all we could, and the rest was up to her. The ball was in her court, and only time would tell if she could truly change.
But when Natasha starts to see a change in Marlene’s behavior, she begins to get worried about the old woman. Eventually, when the truth is revealed, Natasha doesn’t know what to do.
Two women cooking together | Source: Pexels
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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