My husband booked first-class tickets for himself and his mother, leaving me in economy with our children. But I wasn’t about to let that slide. I made sure their “luxury” experience was a little more turbulent than expected, turning this flight into a lesson they would never forget.
My name is Sophie, and today I’m going to tell you about my husband, Clark. You see, he’s the kind of person who is obsessed with his work—always stressed, convinced his job is the most important thing in the world. Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame him for that, but seriously, being a mom isn’t exactly a vacation in the Bahamas either! Anyway, this time, he really outdid himself. Are you ready?
It all started when we were supposed to visit his family for the holidays. The idea was to relax, spend time together, and create memories with the kids. Simple, right?
Clark offered to handle the flight bookings. “Perfect,” I thought to myself, “that’s one less thing for me to worry about.” But little did I know what was coming next.
“Clark, honey, where are our seats?” I asked, juggling our toddler on one hip and a diaper bag on the other. The airport was packed with overwhelmed families and rushing business travelers. My dear husband, Clark, with whom I’ve shared my life for eight years, was frantically tapping on his phone. “Ah, about the seats…” he mumbled without even looking up. I felt a little worry rise up in me. “What do you mean by ‘about that’?” He finally put his phone away and gave me that sheepish little smile I know too well—the one that spells trouble. “Well, I managed to get an upgrade for Mom and me to first class. You know how nervous she is about flying, and I really need to get some rest…”
What? An upgrade for the two of them? I waited for the punchline, but it never came. “Wait… are you telling me that you and your mother are going in first class while I’m stuck in economy with the kids?” He shrugged, as if it were no big deal. The audacity of this man! “Come on, it’s only for a few hours, Sophie. It’ll be fine.” Just then, his mother, Nadia, arrived with her designer handbag, all smiles. “Oh, Clark! We’re finally going to enjoy our first-class flight, this is wonderful!” I watched them walk away toward the first-class lounge while I stood there with two tired kids and a growing desire for revenge.
“Oh, you’re going to enjoy the luxury alright,” I whispered to myself, a plan already forming in my head. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
At boarding, I saw them comfortably settled, champagne in hand, while I struggled to stow our luggage in economy. “Mommy, why can’t we sit with Daddy?” our eldest whined. I forced a smile. “Because Daddy and Grandma are in a special part of the plane, sweetie.” “Why can’t we go there too?” “Because Daddy is a little… special today.” “What does that mean?” “Nothing, sweetie, nothing at all.”
Once the kids were settled, I glanced toward first class, where Clark was reclining comfortably. That was the moment I realized I still had his wallet. Yes, that’s it! The beginning of my little revenge. When we went through security, I had subtly taken his wallet and put it in my bag. He hadn’t noticed a thing, too focused on his phone. Now, I was ready to turn this flight into an unforgettable experience… for him.
A few hours later, while the kids were sleeping, I watched Clark enjoying his gourmet feast in first class. Expensive dishes, fine wine… all the luxury he could dream of. Then, the moment I had been waiting for arrived. Clark started looking for his wallet. His face went pale when he realized it was missing. He leaned toward the flight attendant, probably explaining the situation. I couldn’t hear his words, but his body language said it all. The flight attendant stood motionless, waiting for payment. Clark was gesturing desperately, and I was savoring every second.
Finally, Clark walked back toward me, visibly panicked. “Sophie, I can’t find my wallet. Do you have any cash?” I put on a look of fake concern. “Oh no! How much do you need?” “About 1,500 dollars,” he mumbled. I almost burst out laughing. “1,500 dollars? What did you order, a blue whale?” His desperate expression was simply delicious. “I have about 200 dollars on me, will that help?” He took the money without a word and walked back to his seat, head hung low. Meanwhile, I savored my little victory.
The rest of the flight was very quiet. Clark and his mother remained silent, and their first-class experience wasn’t quite so enjoyable anymore. As for me, back in economy, I felt oddly satisfied. After we landed, Clark never knew I had his wallet the whole time. And to be honest, I think he deserved that little lesson.
