When Karma Strikes: Trudy’s Lesson in Gratitude
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of shouting echoing through the house. My heart sank—I knew it had to be Trudy.
I dragged myself out of bed and padded into the kitchen, where I found her standing in front of the sink, her face beet red. She pointed furiously at the counter, where a pile of dirty dishes was stacked higher than last night.
“MIA! LOOK AT THIS MESS!” she shrieked, turning to glare at me.
I blinked, still groggy. “What…? I washed everything last night.”
Trudy huffed and stomped over to the sink. “Exactly! And now the sink is clogged! I can’t believe you left all this gunk in there!”
I frowned, stepping closer. Sure enough, the water wasn’t draining, and bits of food floated in the sink. But before I could even defend myself, my dad walked in, rubbing his temples.
“What’s all the yelling about?” he asked, clearly already exhausted.
Trudy spun around, arms flailing. “Mia ruined the sink! It’s clogged, and now I can’t even use it! I should’ve just gotten that dishwasher like I wanted!”
Dad sighed, stepping past her to inspect the damage. He grabbed the plunger and tried to clear the blockage, but after a few failed attempts, he groaned. “It’s completely stuck. We’re gonna need a plumber.”
Trudy threw her hands up. “See? This is why I needed a dishwasher! If I had one, this wouldn’t have happened!”
Dad’s gaze flickered to me, then back at her. “Trudy… the dishwasher wouldn’t have prevented a sink clog.”
But she wasn’t listening. She was too busy muttering under her breath about how unfair her life was.
And then—Karma struck.
Trudy, in her fit of frustration, grabbed a jug of baking soda and a bottle of vinegar from under the sink. “Fine! I’ll fix it myself!” she huffed, yanking the cap off the vinegar bottle.
Before anyone could stop her, she poured the entire thing down the sink. The reaction was instant.
The sink gurgled, let out a low bubbling sound, and then—BOOM! A geyser of foul, murky water exploded upward, splattering all over Trudy’s face and clothes.
I gasped and stumbled back, biting my lip to keep from laughing out loud. My dad, wide-eyed, stifled a chuckle.
Trudy screamed.
“AHHH! WHAT IS THIS?! IT SMELLS DISGUSTING!” She frantically wiped her face, but the water had already drenched her hair, her expensive silk robe soaked beyond saving.
Dad sighed, shaking his head. “Trudy… maybe this is a sign that you should stop demanding things from Mia.”
Trudy gaped at him, then at me. I just shrugged.
“Well, Trudy,” I said, my voice sweet as honey, “maybe you should’ve bought yourself that dishwasher.”
Dad burst out laughing. Trudy stormed off, grumbling under her breath, while I smiled to myself.
Karma? It never misses.