When my fiancé Josh invited me to his parents’ lake house for a peaceful weekend, I imagined cozy meals and lakeside sunsets. Instead, I arrived to find myself holding a mop. From the moment we walked in, his mother handed me cleaning supplies and assigned chores like I was staff, not a guest. “We like our women capable,” she said with a smirk as she made me cook dinner and man the grill alone. Still, I smiled through it—trying to be respectful.

After dinner, I asked to shower. That’s when she grinned and said, “Oh honey, the shower’s busted—but you can wash outside with the hose and basin.” So there I was, standing under a freezing garden hose in the backyard while she sipped wine inside. But the next morning, everything changed. I overheard her whispering on the phone: “She thinks the shower’s broken. It works fine. I just wanted to see what kind of girl she is. A little test.” My blood boiled—but I stayed silent.

Later that afternoon, karma made her entrance. A plumber—hired days earlier for an unrelated kitchen leak—let himself in to fix the sink. But Josh’s mom, believing she was alone, decided it was the perfect time to take a long hot shower. She didn’t realize the plumber had keys. He walked right in on her mid-rinse. Chaos followed. Josh’s dad shouted, the plumber apologized profusely, and Josh stared at his mom in disbelief. “Wait… you lied?” he asked, stunned.

We left that evening. Josh didn’t speak to her as we packed the car. On the drive home, he turned to me and said, “I’m so sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” I just smiled and replied, “Some tests have a way of grading themselves.” Because sometimes karma doesn’t knock—she barges in, holding a wrench, while someone’s screaming in a towel.