“You have no place here — everything in this apartment belongs to me, and you are nobody,” the mother-in-law barked after their argument. But the daughter-in-law didn’t swallow it — she answered in such a way that the older woman nearly choked.
Larisa couldn’t hide her nervousness as she stepped over the threshold of the large old apartment on one of Moscow’s quiet streets.
Her life had changed completely: she had just recently married Andrei, and now they were moving in with his mother, Irina Petrovna — an elderly but energetic woman who greeted the newlyweds with a wide smile and the smell of freshly baked pie.
The first days in their new home were filled with confusion and joy at once. Larisa tried to arrange her belongings so as not to disturb her new housemates, and every evening they gathered at the common table to discuss the day.
Everything was going wonderfully — but soon Larisa began to notice that her things were not always where she had left them.
At first, it was little things: a lipstick or nail polish mysteriously moving from her room to the bathroom. Then it escalated to clothing. Larisa found her blouses and skirts neatly folded in Irina Petrovna’s wardrobe.
Noticing the young woman’s embarrassment, Irina merely waved it off:
“Oh dear, don’t pay attention! Everything here is kind of… shared. Andrei and I have lived like this for ages. You’re part of this home now too.”
Larisa tried to understand and accept these rules. She had always considered herself flexible, able to adapt to any conditions.
Every day, coming home from her job at the local newspaper — where she had been hired as a journalist — she discovered more and more “surprises.”
It seemed Irina Petrovna recognized no boundaries, and her carefree behavior began to kindle irritation and helplessness in Larisa.
A few weeks passed, and Larisa had already learned to predict where exactly she would find her missing belongings — but that didn’t make things any easier.
She felt as though she wasn’t living her own life, but playing a strange game with someone else’s rules.
One evening, when Andrei came home from work, she decided to bring it up.
“Andrei, don’t you find it strange that your mother… well, uses my things? I feel a bit uncomfortable.”
Andrei, exhausted after a long day, looked at her in confusion.
“She’s always done that… I never really thought about it. Don’t take it to heart.”
Larisa sighed, realizing she would have to find a way to deal with the situation herself.
She sat at her desk, absorbed in sorting materials for her next big article on urban development. She felt like a fish in water when working on something meaningful.
Her tablet was full of notes, interviews, and photos that would form the basis of her piece. Suddenly, her phone rang. Larisa got up and left the room to answer it. When she returned, the tablet was gone.
She found it in Irina Petrovna’s hands — the older woman staring at the screen in puzzlement.
“Irina Petrovna, what are you doing? That’s my work tablet — it has important files!” Larisa exclaimed, trying to keep her voice calm.
“Oh dear, I just wanted to look up dinner recipes. You have so many things here… I must have pressed something and everything disappeared,” Irina said sheepishly.
Larisa quickly checked the tablet. To her horror, it had been reset to factory settings — all data was gone. The young journalist’s head spun as she realized the scale of the disaster.
“Couldn’t you have asked me before touching someone else’s belongings?” Larisa’s voice trembled with anger and despair.
Irina shrugged.
“In my apartment, everything is shared — nothing here is yours,” she said casually, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Those words, spoken so carelessly, were the last straw. Larisa understood that talking was pointless. She had to do something to regain control over her life and her possessions. Holding back tears, she went to her room to calm down and think.
Later that evening, after long reflection, Larisa decided that if Irina Petrovna didn’t understand boundaries and respect, she would have to teach her a lesson in her own language. The idea of revenge came to her spontaneously — but it seemed like the only solution.
Given the recent conflict and complete disregard for her personal space, Larisa felt that her actions — though petty — were justified.
On a prank and surprise website, she ordered a lipstick with chili extract — a product guaranteed to get Irina Petrovna’s attention.
When the package arrived, Larisa carefully unpacked the bright lipstick and left it casually on her vanity — making sure Irina had noticed the new item.
Curious as always about anything new and shiny, Irina soon spotted the lipstick. From afar, Larisa watched as she picked it up, lingered by the mirror, and tried the new shade on her lips.
“Oh, what a bright color! Let’s see how it suits me,” Irina purred, suspecting nothing.
A few minutes after applying the lipstick, Irina Petrovna began to feel a burning discomfort. At first she thought it was just a reaction to a new product, but soon the burning intensified to an unbearable level.
“What is this… Oh, what’s happening to me?!” Irina rushed to the mirror, splashing cold water on her lips, trying to ease the scorching sensation. Her face showed utter confusion and painful fear.
Watching from afar, Larisa felt a mix of triumph and guilt. She approached Irina Petrovna with a glass of cold water.
“Maybe it’s an allergy to the new formula? One should be more careful with unfamiliar cosmetics,” she said, trying to hide a smirk.
Irina, barely recovering from the initial shock, nodded while still pressing something cold to her lips.
“Yes… I suppose you’re right, dear,” she muttered, her voice now filled with submission.
Although Larisa had achieved the desired effect and felt a certain satisfaction that her mother-in-law had finally experienced the consequences of her careless behavior, she also realized that these little victories would not solve the real problem.
She wondered how far she was willing to go with her lessons — and whether she should even continue down this path.
After the lipstick incident, Larisa came up with a new way to teach Irina Petrovna a lesson.
When she picked up her tablet to check her email, she noticed that Irina hadn’t logged out of her Odnoklassniki account. This opportunity could not be wasted.
Taking the tablet with her to the newspaper office, Larisa began phase two of her “education plan.” She decided to add a bit of humor to Irina’s daily life.
First, Larisa posted a photo of a giant burger with the caption: “Starting a new diet! Who’s with me? #BurgerWednesday.” The picture was bright and mouthwatering, and Irina’s friends immediately began commenting in surprise — after all, everyone knew that she had long preached healthy eating.
Next, Larisa found a photo online of a cat sitting in a lotus pose and posted it with the comment: “My new yoga instructor is AMAZING! I’ve never felt this flexible before!” This got even more laughs and reposts — especially since Irina had never practiced yoga and openly mocked it in the past.
After that, Larisa posted a status: “I’m dreaming of getting a tattoo! What do you think — dragon or unicorn?”
The post instantly gathered tons of likes and amused comments from Irina’s friends, who eagerly started sharing their own ideas and even hand-drawn sketches.
When Irina Petrovna came home and opened her account, she was greeted by chaos. Her page had practically exploded with notifications and comments. For a brief moment, she felt like a social media star — until confusion and panic quickly replaced the excitement.
“Larisa! What is going on here?!” she shouted as soon as Larisa entered the room.
“Oh, did you see your latest posts? Looks like you’ve got a lot of fans!” Larisa replied, barely holding back her laughter at Irina’s bewildered expression.
“But I didn’t write any of that! Is this some kind of joke?” Irina was clearly not amused.
Realizing that the prank was reaching its limit, Larisa shifted to a more serious tone.
“Maybe it’s a reminder to log out of your account — so no one else can use your social media. You know, since everything in this house is ‘shared’, right?”
Irina nodded silently, understanding the hint. Larisa could tell the lesson had sunk in — and decided it was time to wrap up the revenge campaign.
But surprisingly, the little social media mischief left behind not resentment — but amusing memories, and perhaps even a touch of newfound understanding between daughter-in-law and mother-in-law.
Feeling that her earlier lessons were beginning to take root, Larisa decided to solidify the progress with one final act of poetic justice — something that would put everything in its place once and for all.
One evening, while Irina was away at her culinary arts class, Larisa and her friends began preparing for a party. They opened Irina’s old wardrobe, which was packed with vintage dresses and accessories from past decades.
The girls picked the brightest and fluffiest outfits, determined to channel the full spirit of bygone eras.
When Irina returned home, the house was filled with old-timey music, laughter, and cheer. She walked into the living room — and froze. There were her dresses, brought to life by young women who danced and took pictures with delight.
“What is going on here?!” she cried, her voice trembling with confusion and outrage.
“We figured, since everything in the house is shared,” Larisa replied with a smile, walking up to her with a glass of champagne, “why not breathe new life into these beautiful dresses? Come join us, Irina Petrovna! It’s your outfits that created this atmosphere!”
At first, Irina was in shock and ready to give them all a harsh scolding. But as she looked at the genuine joy on their faces, something within her softened.
She realized that her strict rules and need for control were pushing away the very people she cared about.
Moved by the moment, she decided to join the fun. She even demonstrated a few dance moves that had been popular in her youth.
The next morning, when the house had finally calmed down and the air was peaceful after the storm of celebration, Irina Petrovna invited Larisa for morning tea. The atmosphere was tense — but open. Irina was the first to break the silence.
“Laris… I am truly ashamed of how I’ve behaved,” she began, nervously holding her cup. “I understand now that my words and actions must have hurt you. I… I really am sorry.”
As Larisa listened, she felt a wave of relief. She could see that Irina genuinely wanted to make things right.
“Thank you for saying that, Irina Petrovna,” Larisa replied softly. “I appreciate it — and I do want us to find a way to live together peacefully.”
Irina nodded, acknowledging the importance of the moment.
“I should never have treated your things — or your personal space — so carelessly. We’re both adult women, and I think we can establish some rules… to help us both feel comfortable.”
Larisa smiled, sensing real change. They spent the next hour discussing clear boundaries — what could be considered shared, and what must remain personal.
Irina agreed that Larisa should have her own corner in the apartment where her things would remain untouched.
They also decided to make time to talk through any issues before they escalated into conflict.
Additionally, Irina suggested holding weekly family dinners to strengthen their bond and share life updates.
“I think that’s a great idea,” Larisa said, feeling genuine warmth between them for the first time.
As they cleaned up the cups, Irina added with a smile:
“And you know… I’m actually glad you threw that party. It was… refreshing. A little reminder of youth is sometimes good.”
Larisa laughed — and in that moment, she felt that for the first time in a long while, real harmony had settled into the house. The two women had finally found a way to coexist — with respect, understanding, and a set of new rules to guide their future relationship.
