When Jane’s cherished vase arrived shattered, she decided to catch the culprit behind her battered parcels. Little did she know, her daughter’s simple act of kindness would teach a lesson far more powerful than any scheme of revenge.
Moving into a new house was a dream come true for my family and me. The neighborhood was perfect. The neighbors were friendly, the parks were beautiful, and the schools were top-notch. Everything seemed ideal except for one thing. Our parcels always arrived damaged.
One morning, I opened the door to find another crumpled package. “Not again!” I sighed, picking it up. It was the third time that week. First, it was a book with bent pages. Then, a kitchen gadget arrived with a dent. This time, I hoped the shoes I ordered for Lily would be fine. But the box was smashed.
“Mom, why are our packages always messed up?” Lily asked, looking at the damaged box.
“I don’t know, honey. But it’s driving me crazy,” I replied, feeling frustrated.
A few days later, the final straw came. I had ordered a beautiful vase, something I’d wanted for a long time. When it arrived, the box was in pieces. I opened it to find the vase shattered.
“That’s it,” I said, fuming. “I’m going to find out who’s doing this.”
That evening, I called my husband, Mark. “Mark, we need to install a security camera. Our packages are always getting ruined.”
“You’re right, Jane,” he agreed. “Let’s set it up this weekend.”
We installed the camera by the front door, hoping to catch the culprit.
The next week, I ordered a small item, a simple notebook. When it arrived, the package was, unsurprisingly, crumpled. I rushed to check the footage from the camera. What I saw shocked me.
“Mark, come here!” I called out.
Mark came running. “What is it?”
“Look at this,” I said, pointing at the screen.
The footage showed the courier, a young man, tossing the package onto our porch from at least 15 feet away. He didn’t even look to see if it landed safely.
“That’s ridiculous,” Mark said, shaking his head. “We have to do something.”
“I have an idea,” I said, feeling a mix of anger and determination.
Later that day, I explained my plan to Mark and Lily. “I’m going to teach him a lesson he’ll never forget. I’ll set up a trap.”
“What kind of trap, Mom?” Lily asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
“A box labeled ‘Cold Water,’ but inside, there will be a mechanism to spray paint when he opens it,” I explained.
“Mom, that’s a bit much, don’t you think?” Lily said, frowning. “Maybe there’s a kinder way to handle this.”
“No, Lily. He needs to learn not to treat people’s packages like that,” I insisted.
Mark nodded in agreement. “Sometimes, people need a wake-up call.”
The next day, I set up the trap. I placed the box by the door, labeled it clearly, and installed the paint mechanism inside. I felt a sense of satisfaction, knowing the courier would get what he deserved.
As the day went on, I couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. “Do you think this will work?” I asked Mark.
“We’ll see,” he said. “But maybe Lily has a point. What if it backfires?”
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