angrymom

Friend's mom loses it on me for using her decorative soaps. I get revenge by stinking the place up a bit.

(warning: long story)

As a kid growing up, I had never encountered the concept of “decorative” soaps and towels. To me, soap was for cleaning up, towels were for drying hands. I had never encountered towels and soap that weren’t supposed to be used. The idea had never occurred to me.

When I was 9 I was over at a friend’s place hanging out. After using the washroom at my buddy’s house, I proceeded to wash my hands with delicate decorative seashell soap and then dry them with decorative towels.

I go back to the rec room to continue playing Monopoly with my friends. About half an hour later we hear a shriek coming from upstairs. We looked at each other in shock, then my buddy’s mom came rushing down the stairs, clutching several small decorative soaps in her hand, and screaming, “Who the hell used my soap?!?”

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Friend's mom loses it on me for using her decorative soaps. I get revenge by stinking the place up a bit.

As a kid growing up, I had never encountered the concept of “decorative” soaps and towels. To me, soap was for cleaning up, towels were for drying hands. I had never encountered towels and soap that weren’t supposed to be used. The idea had never occurred to me.

When I was 9 I was over at a friend’s place hanging out. After using the washroom at my buddy’s house, I proceeded to wash my hands with delicate decorative seashell soap and then dry them with decorative towels.

I go back to the rec room to continue playing Monopoly with my friends. About half an hour later we hear a shriek coming from upstairs. We looked at each other in shock, then my buddy’s mom came rushing down the stairs, clutching several small decorative soaps in her hand, and screaming, “Who the hell used my soap?!?”

I was in shock, I admit. I didn’t answer, because I was stunned as I tried to process this scene. I mean, she was acting like I pissed in her fridge, but all I had done was wash my hands after a pee. Aren’t you supposed to do that? I wondered? Isn’t that what soap is *for*?

Meanwhile, AngryMom is yelling at us, “Come on, out with it, which one of you bastards did this?”

Meekly I reply, “I did, why, was I wrong?”

“These soaps are for decoration ONLY,” she yelled. “What kind of ignorant bastard would ruin my decorative soaps?!”

I started to reply, to try and defend myself from - what I considered - the ludicrous charge of using soap. I tried to explain that I had never seen or heard of soap not meant to be used, but she immediately interrupted.

“Well, I don’t know what kind of mother you must have to be so ignorant!” and went storming back upstairs, audibly muttering about what a bad kid I was and how my mother was a bad mother.

I was mortified and embarrassed, as was my buddy. He apologized for his mom’s behaviours, and said that she was nuts about her decorative soaps and towels. He said he should have warned me, and was sorry, which was nice of him.

As we chatted he started listing other things his mom was crazy about. Like raking her living room carpet. Seriously, it was a deep shag, and she had a garden rake she used only indoors, on that carpet. If you walked across the carpet you had to rake it after you because she’d lose it if there were footprints in her shag.

Turns out the the thing she loved the most was her garden. She was nuts about it, and would brag about it constantly to anyone who would listen.

After the shock and embarrassment wore off, I was pretty angry. Angry because the idea of soaps and towels you can’t use is stupid. Angry because she thought it was ok to yell at me like I had just shit in her bathtub. I felt revenge was in order.

I waited about a week, during which I began to collect dog shit in a bag. We had a dog and it was my job to clean up the poo, so it wasn’t a difficult task as it was a chore I was responsible for anyway. Instead of putting the poo bags in the garbage can, however, I hid them behind our shed.

Then, about 3 am one night, I snuck over to my buddies house and filled his mom’s garden with dog shit. Our dog was a boxer and pretty big, so a week’s worth of shit was a lot of shit. I put shit on the ground, shit in her bushes, and shit inside some of the flowers. I even lined dog shit along the window sill so when you looked out the window it looked like the shittiest shit Easter ever.

Fuck you, Mrs. Benito.

Edit: For those who are asking, here’s how things turned out:

Unfortunately the follow up is a bit of a let down. I simply don’t know how she reacted. My buddy never mentioned it, which is understandable as her hysterics embarrassed him mightily. I never asked, fearing that if I did so it would be tantamount to confessing that I had been the poop distributor.