I never thought I’d see the day when karma would come knocking, but boy, did it ever. Grab a cup of coffee and settle in, because this story is a wild ride from start to finish.

First, let me introduce myself. I’m Linda, a 40-year-old high school English teacher living with my husband Tom and my father-in-law Richard.

Tom and I have been married for 15 wonderful years, and we’ve been together since college. Life was pretty smooth sailing until about two years ago when Richard moved in with us after my mother-in-law passed away.

Now, Richard isn’t exactly the easiest person to live with. He’s got opinions on everything and thinks he knows best about, well, everything. Our relationship has always been a bit strained, but I’ve tried my best to make it work for Tom’s sake.

Still, living under the same roof has been… challenging, to say the least.

Tom and I don’t have children, so for years, I’d poured my heart and soul into our backyard instead. It was my little piece of heaven: a lush lawn surrounded by colorful flower beds that I’d nurtured from seedlings. Gardening became my passion, my escape, my way to unwind after a long day of teaching moody teenagers.

Every weekend and spare moment, you’d find me out there, tending to my plants, watching them grow and bloom. It was more than just a hobby; it was what kept me busy, happy, and sane.

But Richard? He had other plans for my sanctuary. It started innocently enough.

One evening, as we were finishing dinner, Richard cleared his throat. “Linda, Tom, I’ve been thinking.”

I shared a look with Tom. Those words from Richard usually meant trouble.

“The backyard,” Richard continued, “it’s just sitting there. We should put in a pool.”

I nearly choked on my water. “A pool? Richard, where would we even put it? The yard isn’t that big.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “We’ll make it fit. You know, I get bored when you two are at work. A pool would be perfect for me and my friends. Especially during these hot summer days.”

Tom, bless him, tried to reason with his father. “Dad, Linda’s put a lot of work into the garden. You can’t just remove all the beautiful flowers there. Plus, a pool is a big expense and responsibility. I don’t think you can manage it.”

But Richard wasn’t having it. For weeks, he’d bring it up at every opportunity. “Linda, imagine how nice it would be to cool off on hot days,” or “Tom, think of the pool parties we could have!”

I stood my ground. “Richard, I’m sorry, but it’s just not practical. The yard is too small, and I love my garden. I can’t let you dig up a pool there. It’s not happening.”

I thought that was the end of it. But I was wrong. It was just the beginning.

One weekend, Tom and I decided to visit my parents. It was a nice break from Richard’s constant pool talk. We left early Saturday morning, planning to return Sunday evening.

As we pulled into our driveway that Sunday after having a great time with my parents, I knew something was wrong. The front yard was a mess, with muddy tire tracks everywhere. My stomach lurched as we rounded the corner to the backyard.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Where my beautiful garden had once stood was now an enormous hole. Piles of dirt surrounded it, and most of my carefully tended flowers had disappeared.

In the middle of it all stood Richard, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

“Oh, finally decided to come back, have you?” he sneered. “I’ve started the pool for you. No need to thank me.”

I was speechless. Tom, on the other hand, exploded. “Dad! What the hell were you thinking? We told you not to do this!”

Richard just shrugged. “You’ll thank me when it’s done. I got a great deal on the diggers.”

I felt tears welling up in my eyes. My hard work was destroyed in a single weekend by my own father-in-law. Why couldn’t he understand how much I loved my plants? Why did he ruin my beautiful garden?

When Tom noticed my silent sobs, he put his arm around me and led me inside.

“I’ll deal with him, Linda. Please don’t worry about it,” he said. “I won’t let him build a pool there. And your plants… I’ll hire a professional gardener and restore the backyard like you want it to be. Okay? Please don’t cry.”

The next morning, I woke up hoping it had all been a bad dream. But one look out the window confirmed the nightmare was real. The diggers were back.

As they continued their work, karma decided to pay Richard a visit and that’s when I spotted our neighbor, Mrs. Jensen, walking her little dog Buster.

Mrs. Jensen was a stickler for rules and regulations, and she and Richard had never gotten along. To my surprise, she marched right up to Richard with a sweet smile on her face.

“Richard, darling,” she began, her voice dripping with false sweetness, “did you know there are regulations about how close you can dig to a property line?”

Richard scoffed. “I know what I’m doing, Margaret. Mind your own business.”

Mrs. Jensen’s smile widened. “Well, you should know the city inspector is a good friend of mine. Let me give him a call and see what he thinks.”

I watched as the color drained from Richard’s face. Before he could protest, Mrs. Jensen had her phone out and was chatting away.

A city inspector arrived on our doorstep an hour later. He took one look at the mess in our backyard and shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir, but this is completely against the code. You’re going to have to fill this in immediately.”

Richard sputtered, “But… but…”

The inspector wasn’t finished. “And I’m afraid I’ll have to issue a fine for starting construction without proper permits.”

I couldn’t believe it. Karma was real, and it was working overtime.

But wait, there’s more.

As the contractors started to fill in the hole, there was a loud crack. Suddenly, water began gushing everywhere. It turned out they’d hit an old water pipe!

As a result, our backyard quickly turned into a muddy swamp. A few minutes later, poor Richard slipped and fell face-first into the mud.

Tom and I stood on the porch, watching the chaos unfold. Richard was drenched, covered head to toe in mud, yelling at the contractors.

His favorite suit was ruined, and his dreams of a backyard oasis were quite literally going down the drain.

In the end, Richard had to pay for everything including the fine, the repairs to the pipe, fixing the backyard, and cleaning up the flooded basement. It was a costly lesson in respecting other people’s property and following the rules.

After that day, Richard’s enthusiasm for home improvements vanished. He now spends most of his time quietly in his room.

Even mentioning the word “pool” is enough to make him scowl and leave the room.

As for my garden, it took time, but I’ve managed to replant most of it. In a way, it’s even better now. Every flower feels like a small victory over Richard’s misguided plans.

Moreover, Mrs. Jensen has become a good friend. Whenever she sees me working in the garden, she gives me a wink and says, “I hope no one’s digging up a pool in your backyard.”

Tom and I still laugh about the whole ordeal. It’s become our go-to story at dinner parties. “Did we ever tell you about the time Richard tried to build a pool?” Tom will start, and our friends settle in for the tale.

Looking back, I’m grateful for the experience. Not only did it teach Richard a valuable lesson, but it also brought Tom and me closer together. He stood by me through the whole ordeal, proving that our partnership could weather any storm.