My sister-in-law Emily’s birthday gift, an ugly garden gnome, seemed harmless enough. But three days later, a furious stranger showed up at my door, accusing me of stealing and demanding the return of her beloved “Rupert.” What did Emily do?!
I never thought I’d be posting here about a garden gnome that changed my life, but here we are.
It all started on my birthday. I’d been dreading the party for weeks, knowing my sister-in-law, Emily, would find some way to make it about her.
But even worse was that she acted like an idiot who had no idea she was doing anything wrong.
Woman with a silly expression | Source: Pexels
This year, I was determined to have a drama-free celebration. I spent the whole day decorating the backyard, hanging fairy lights, and arranging flowers.
My husband, David, was manning the grill.
As guests started arriving, I was constantly glancing at the gate, waiting for Emily’s grand entrance. She didn’t disappoint.
Two women at a decorated yard | Source: Pexels
Two hours late, she sashayed into the backyard like she owned the place, wearing six-inch heels that sank into the grass with every step.
But it wasn’t her fashionably late arrival that made me frown. It was what she was carrying: the gaudiest, most enormous garden gnome I’d ever seen.
“Happy birthday, Sarah!” Emily trilled, air-kissing my cheeks. “I hope you like your gift. It’s absolutely perfect for your… quaint little garden.”
Woman leaning againts a white fence | Source: Pexels
I stood there, speechless, as she thrust the monstrosity into my arms.
The gnome was at least two feet tall, painted in eye-searing colors, with a crack running down its side. It looked like something that had escaped from a tacky lawn ornament factory.
Did she think I was an old woman?
“Oh, wow,” I managed to stammer. “That’s… quite something, Emily. Thank you.”
A woman with a serious expression | Source: Pexels
Emily beamed, clearly pleased with herself. “I knew you’d love it. Now, where shall we put it? I think it would look fabulous over there by the rose bushes.”
I glanced at the spot she indicated and tried to imagine this eyesore among my carefully tended flowers. No way was that happening.
“Actually,” I said, “I think I’d like to put it in the front yard. That way, everyone can see it when they drive by.”
Home front | Source: Pexels
Emily’s smile tightened. “Oh, but,” she insisted, “I THINK IT WOULD LOOK BETTER IN THE BACKYARD. Don’t you agree, David?”
My husband held up his hands. “It’s Sarah’s gift. Isn’t it? She can put it wherever she likes.”
Emily’s nostrils flared, but she quickly composed herself. “Well, of course. It’s your decision. I just thought it would tie the whole backyard together so nicely.”
Home backyard | Source: Pexels
“Thank you for the suggestion,” I said, “but I’ve made up my mind.”
As Emily stalked off to the refreshment table, I caught David’s eye. He gave me a subtle thumbs-up, and I felt a small surge of pride.
For once, I hadn’t let Emily’s passive-aggressive tactics get the better of me. Yes, I tended to get angry and make a scene at her crazy actions.
Two women at a backyard party | Source: Pexels
The rest of the party passed happily, but I couldn’t help noticing Emily’s occasional glances at the gnome. Is it going to explode or something?
By twilight, the last guest finally left, and I breathed a sigh of relief. For once, Emily hadn’t managed to make everything about her, and we were able to host a normal party.
The next morning, I lugged the gnome out to the front yard. Despite its garish appearance, I had to admit it had a certain charm.
A garden gnome | Source: Pexels
I positioned it near the mailbox and went back inside.
For the next few days, I actually grew fond of the gnome. I even found myself smiling at it as I collected the mail or watered the front flowerbeds.
But on the third day after my birthday, everything changed.
I was just settling down with a cup of afternoon coffee when an aggressive knock startled me. Frowning, I went to answer the door.
A woman on a couch drinking coffee and using a laptop | Source: Pexels
A woman I’d never seen before stood on my porch, and she was red-faced and fuming.
“Can I help you?” I asked, confused.
The woman jabbed a finger at me. “YOU’RE A THIEF!” she shouted. “YOU STOLE THAT GNOME FROM MY YARD! IT’S MINE, IT EVEN HAS A CRACK ON IT! I CAN SHOW YOU A PHOTO TO PROVE IT!”
An older woman pointing her finger in accusation | Source: Midjourney
I WAS MORTIFIED. What had Emily done?!
“I… what? No, I didn’t steal anything! That gnome was a birthday gift from my sister-in-law.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Oh sure! I want it back, now, or I’m calling the police!”
My face burned. “Please, there’s been some kind of misunderstanding. Let me call my sister-in-law. She can explain where she got it.”
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
With trembling, angry fingers, I dialed Emily’s number. “Emily? It’s Sarah. I need you to come over right away. Don’t ask why, just please hurry.”
Twenty maddening minutes later, Emily’s car pulled into the driveway. When she saw the woman, SHE IMMEDIATELY turned pale. The look on her face told me everything I needed to know.
“Emily,” I said, trying to restrain my anger, “this woman says the gnome you gave me was stolen from her yard. Care to explain?”
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emily stuttered. “I bought that gnome fair and square.”
A woman with her arms crossed | Source: Pexels
The woman snorted. “Oh really? Then you won’t mind showing us the receipt, or do you want me to call the police?”
Emily’s eyes widened. “Okay, fine!” she said, raising her hands in surrender. “I… I didn’t exactly buy it from a store.”
“Then where did you get it, Emily?” I said through tight lips. I was barely holding it together.
“Fine!” Emily threw her arms in the air. “That day, I was almost here when I remembered that I didn’t buy you anything. I saw the garden gnome in her yard. They had a tall fence, though. Then, some homeless man passed by, so I paid him $20 to get it for me…”
A house with a blue fence | Source: Pexels
A heavy silence fell over my porch.
I closed my eyes. This was so like her!
“… and I drove off quickly when I saw her coming out of the house,” Emily continued sheepishly.
My sister-in-law was insane… and stupid.
I didn’t know what to say.
A woman with a curious expression | Source: Pexels
But suddenly, the woman who’d come looking for her gnome burst out laughing. “Well, I’ll be damned,” she chuckled. “I never thought anyone would try to steal Rupert!”
Her laughter broke the tension. I giggled a bit and asked, “Rupert?”
The woman nodded, still grinning. “That’s what I call him. He’s been in my family for years, and everyone says he’s ugly. I was heartbroken when he disappeared the other day.”
An old garden gnome | Source: Midjourney
“I’m so sorry,” Emily said. “I never meant to cause any trouble. I just wanted to give Sarah a nice gift because she has a pretty garden.”
I turned to my sister-in-law with surprised eyes. Maybe this was a turning point for us.
“Oh, Emily,” I sighed.
The woman finally introduced herself as Miriam, and I invited her inside for an hour of tea, chatting, and laughing about my sister-in-law’s gnome stealing.
A woman drinking tea | Source: Pexels
David arrived home and couldn’t believe what had happened. He also apologized to Miriam for the stolen gnome, and a few hours later, he loaded Rupert into her car.
When the lady drove away, I turned to Emily.
“You know,” I commented, “weirdly, this might be the best birthday gift you’ve ever given me.”
“Honestly?” Emily asked.
A blonde woman smiling | Source: Pexels
“Yes, it showed me that you wanted to do something nice,” I answered. “You go about life, acting in a rather selfish way. You make things about yourself and mess up often, but this time, you thought about me and what I liked, and tried to give me something I would like, too.”
“I really did!” she nodded eagerly. “The gnome was cute!”
“Yes, it was,” I acknowledged. “But maybe, next time, don’t steal from other people. You could’ve just come by without a gift.”
A gift with a bow | Source: Pexels
Emily nodded, biting her lip.
“This was also one of the first events where I didn’t explode on you,” I continued, shrugging. “You’ve made me so mad before, but I realize now that it’s just you. You don’t mean any harm. You’re just a little misguided sometimes.”
Emily’s eyes shined on me, surprised, as if this was the first time anyone had ever seen her, the real her. “Thank you, Sarah,” she swallowed. “No one ever understands me. Everyone always thinks I do things because I want attention.”
“It seems that way often.”
A smiling woman | Source: Pexels
“I know,” she nodded. “I want to work on that.”
So, I clapped my hands. “Okay. Let’s start at the beginning. A clean slate from now on.”
Her eyes watered and she jumped into my arms. “Sister!”
My eyes almost watered, too.
“Alright, guys,” David interrupted us, smiling. “That was fun. Emily, do you want to stay for dinner?”
A smiling man on a front yard | Source: Pexels
“Yes!” she said, letting me go.
As we walked back into the house, I knew our family had changed… for the better… all because of a gnome.
Cheers to Rupert! Oh, and Emily bought another one from a REAL store that was much cuter. I named him, Rupert Jr.
A garden gnome | Source: Midjourney
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.
My Stepmom Gifted Me a Funerary Urn for My 17th Birthday
As Lila was ready to celebrate her 17th birthday, she received an unexpected and creepy gift from her stepmother: a pink funerary urn. Like the type you keep ashes in? Yes, that’s the one. But that’s not all! Lila learns that her college fund was given to Monica to open her salon. What will Lila do?
Let me tell you, I’ve been sitting on this one for a few days, just trying to make sense of what went down.
I always thought my stepmom, Monica, was the worst, though not Disney villain evil. She was the kind of person who talks over you, forgets your birthday, and calls you “kiddo” when you’re practically an adult.
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
But, what she pulled on my 17th birthday? It shattered whatever shaky truce we had.
At least, that’s what I thought. Turns out, things weren’t exactly what they seemed.
Here’s how it all went down.
My mom, Sarah, died when I was ten, and after that, it was just Dad and me. We were a solid team. The type of team that has pizza for dinner half the week, late-night movies, and this unspoken agreement that we’d always have each other’s backs.
Two boxes of pizza on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
Then came Monica, about three years ago.
At first, she wasn’t horrible; she was just… there. Like a stray cat that never leaves, so you have no choice but to adopt it. Monica moved into our house, took over the bathroom with her fifty bottles of face serums and creams, and slowly pushed her way into my dad’s world.
Monica had big dreams of opening a hair salon, which was fine. I wasn’t against people having dreams. I had my own dreams waiting for me, but she treated me like I was just this annoying piece of furniture that came with the house.
A woman’s vanity | Source: Midjourney
Honestly, I was counting down the days until I could escape to college.
Dad had promised me since middle school that there was a college fund waiting for me.
“Don’t worry, sweet girl,” he told me. “Your mom and I put together the fund when you were five. There’s more than enough, and every year on your birthday and Christmas, I add more.”
A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you, Dad,” I said. “I just want to study and make something of myself, like Mom said.”
“You only have to worry about your grades, Lila,” he said. “I’ll handle the rest.”
Naturally, I worked my butt off in school, knowing that in a few years, I’d be out of here.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
College was my golden ticket, and no one — not even Monica — would stand in my way.
At least, that’s what I thought.
On the morning of my 17th birthday, I came downstairs expecting the usual lukewarm effort. By lukewarm, I mean a sad card, some pancakes, and Monica forgetting my favorite syrup. Dad was at work, so it was just Mon and I.
A plate of pancakes and a card on a table | Source: Midjourney
She handed me a gift bag, which was already weird because Monica wasn’t exactly the thoughtful or sentimental type.
“Happy Birthday, kiddo,” she said, flashing one of her tight-lipped smiles.
I wasn’t expecting much, but I sure as hell wasn’t expecting this.
I reached inside the bag and pulled out… an urn.
A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
A funerary urn.
You know, the kind that people store ashes in. Cold, heavy, and, well, pink. It was pink.
I just stared at it, my brain short-circuiting.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, holding the urn like it was cursed.
A pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney
Monica leaned against the kitchen counter, smug as ever.
“It’s symbolic,” she said as if that explained anything.
“Symbolic of what?”
Monica’s grin widened.
A smiling woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“It’s time to bury your dreams of college, kiddo. Your dad and I talked about this, and we decided to put the college fund to better use.”
“Better use?” I asked, a cold shiver running through me.
“Yep. We’re investing it in my hair salon. College is a gamble, Lila. A business? That’s something real, sweetie.”
A hair salon being renovated | Source: Midjourney
She sipped her coffee like she’d just said the most reasonable thing in the world.
I was frozen in place, trying to make sense of what I’d just heard. Had they really taken my future, everything I’d worked for, and sunk it into Monica’s salon dream?
“How could you do this?” I whispered.
Monica just smiled, a little too pleased with herself.
A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
“Life’s full of disappointments, kiddo. Better get used to it now,” she said.
Wow.
That was it. I was done. I ran upstairs, slamming the door behind me so hard that the walls shook.
I cried so hard it hurt. What else could I do? Everything I had been holding onto was gone, and the only person I thought I could count on, Dad, had let this happen.
An upset teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
My mom wanted me to get out and make something of myself. And now? It was all over.
The next few days were a blur. I didn’t speak to Monica or my dad unless I absolutely had to. Every time I looked at that stupid urn sitting on my desk, my stomach twisted.
I couldn’t even bring myself to throw it out. It felt like some kind of morbid evidence. Like proof of the betrayal I didn’t see coming.
A pink funerary urn on a desk | Source: Midjourney
At school, my friends tried to cheer me up.
“Maybe she thought it was funny, Lila,” my friend Kira said. “Like, who really knows what Monica is thinking?”
“And anyway, there’s nothing stopping you from throwing it out! Just do it! Don’t overthink it,” Mel said.
Three teenage girls | Source: Midjourney
But still, I couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that Monica was prancing around, acting like she was the queen of the house, while I sat there with no future.
Then, a few days later, something strange happened.
When I got home from school, there was a note on my desk. Not in an envelope, just folded, with my name written in Monica’s messy handwriting.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
Meet me at the salon at 6 P.M. tonight. No questions. Just trust me. -M.
I almost laughed out loud. Trust her? Yeah, right.
But something about the note gnawed at me. Maybe it was the fact that I wanted to confront her one last time, tell her exactly what I thought of her.
Against my better judgment, I decided to go.
A note on a table | Source: Midjourney
When I got to the salon, the lights were off, and the front door was unlocked.
I hesitated for a second, wondering if this was some elaborate prank. But curiosity got the best of me.
I stepped inside, and there they were. Monica and my dad, standing side by side, both grinning widely.
“Surprise!” Monica shouted, throwing her arms up like this was the happiest moment of her life.
The entrance to a salon | Source: Midjourney
I just stared at them, completely lost.
“What is this?”
Monica stepped aside, and that’s when I saw it — a shiny, brand-new sign mounted on the wall.
Dream Cuts: A Scholarship Fund in Honor of Sarah
I blinked, feeling like the room was tilting on its axis.
A hair salon | Source: Midjourney
“What… what is this?”
Monica smiled, but it wasn’t her usual smug grin. This one was softer, almost real.
“We didn’t use your college fund, kiddo. It’s all still there. The salon? It’s not just for me. It’s for you, too. For other kids like you, too.”
I couldn’t breathe.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“But then, why would you make me think otherwise?” I asked.
Monica winced, putting her hand on her head.
“Yeah, so, the urn thing… That was not my best idea. I thought it’d be motivational, like, bury the past and embrace the future. You know? But it turns out that it was just creepy.”
A woman with her hand on her head | Source: Midjourney
I stared at her, speechless.
My dad stepped forward, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
“We’ve been planning this for months, Lila,” he said. “Your mom always wanted to help kids get to college. This salon is going to fund scholarships. For you and for others in her name.”
“The salon has been my dream, Lila,” Monica said. “But it was never going to come at your expense. This way, a great portion of all our profits in the future will go to the fund.”
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t know what to say.
Or what to think.
Just that I felt a warm haze take over me.
Monica laughed softly.
“I’m not a monster, darling,” she said. “I just didn’t want you to think that I was trying to take over your mom’s role.”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
For the first time in a long time, I smiled.
It wasn’t perfect, but things with Monica probably never would be. But, at that moment, standing in the middle of a salon named for my mom’s dream, I realized that she wasn’t trying to ruin my life.
She was trying to build something bigger than any of us.
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
And somehow, against all odds, it felt like a new beginning.
And yeah, I kept the urn. But I planted white peace lilies in it, thinking it would be symbolic after all. And who knows, maybe I’ll take the urn to college.
What would you have done?
Peace lilies planted into a pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
I Transferred $24K to My Daughter for Her College Tuition, Only to Discover She Never Enrolled — What She Spent It On Made Me Pale
Caroline had been saving for her daughter’s college fund since Angela was born. But after a classmate of Angela’s reveals that Angela is not actually enrolled in college, Caroline must uncover what her daughter is doing and what she used the money for.
Children are always going to break your heart. This was something that I learned the hard way after trusting my daughter, Angela, completely.
A close-up of a smiling girl | Source: Midjourney
Since Angela was born, I have been saving for college. I needed to know that irrespective of what life threw my way, I would be able to educate my child.
“I think you can wait until she’s a little older,” my husband, Holden, said. “We can do it together.”
“You can add to her college fund later,” I said, looking at my baby girl. “But I’m going to start from next month. I wasn’t able to study, Holden. And it was because we didn’t have the opportunity to do so. Angela is going to get that opportunity.”
A smiling baby girl | Source: Midjourney
“Okay, Caroline,” my husband said. “You start it now, and I’ll add to it in a year. The house will be paid off, and I’ll be able to put that money into the fund.”
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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