Entitled Mom on the Flight Broke My Daughter’s iPad – She Regretted It Sooner Than I Could Have Imagined

An entitled mom thought breaking my little daughter’s iPad would end her son’s tantrums. But what came next left her more panicked than I could’ve imagined. Karma works fast… even at 30,000 feet!

I, Bethany, 35 years old, never thought a two-hour flight could change so much. But there I was, settling into my seat with my five-year-old daughter Ella next to me. As the plane taxied down the runway, I breathed a sigh of relief. Ella was contentedly watching cartoons on her iPad, headphones snug on her ears…

A cheerful little girl holding a tablet | Source: Freepik

A cheerful little girl holding a tablet | Source: Freepik

“You comfy, sweetie?” I asked, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Ella nodded, her eyes glued to the screen. “Uh-huh. Can I have juice later?”

“Of course,” I smiled, reaching for my book. “Just let me know when you’re thirsty.”

As I cracked open my novel, movement across the aisle caught my eye. A family of three had just sat down: a couple and a little boy around Ella’s age. He was squirming in his seat, whining loudly.

Grayscale of a little boy throwing a tantrum | Source: Pexels

Grayscale of a little boy throwing a tantrum | Source: Pexels

“I’m bored!” he wailed, kicking the seat in front of him.

His mother shushed him. “We told you, no screens on this trip. Be a good boy.”

The boy’s whining intensified, and I saw his gaze lock onto Ella’s iPad.

Oh boy, I thought. This might be a long flight.

A little boy crying | Source: Pexels

A little boy crying | Source: Pexels

Twenty minutes in, a tap on my shoulder made me look up. The mom from across the aisle was leaning towards me, a tight smile on her face.

“Hi there! I couldn’t help but notice your daughter’s iPad. We’ve decided to be responsible parents and not give our son any screen time this vacation. Would you mind putting that away? It’s making him upset.”

I blinked, stunned by her audacity. “Excuse me?”

“It’s just… it’s not fair to him, you know?”

An annoyed woman sitting in an airplane | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed woman sitting in an airplane | Source: Midjourney

I took a deep breath, reminding myself to stay calm. “I’m sorry, but no. My daughter’s using it to stay calm during the flight.”

The woman’s smile vanished instantly. “Wow, really? You’d rather ruin our family trip than have your daughter take a break from her precious screen?”

“Listen,” I said, my patience wearing thin, “she’s quietly minding her own business. Your son could do the same if you’d brought him something to do.”

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

The woman, let’s just call her “Entitled Mom (EM)” was visibly frustrated.

“Some parents just can’t say no to their kids these days. No wonder they all end up spoiled.”

I turned back to my book, hoping that would end the conversation. But I could feel her glare burning into the side of my head.

“Everything okay, Mommy?” Ella asked, momentarily looking up from her show.

“Everything’s fine, sweetie. Just keep watching your cartoons.”

Little girl holding a tablet in an airplane | Source: Pexels

Little girl holding a tablet in an airplane | Source: Pexels

The next hour was tense. The boy’s tantrum escalated, his wails piercing through the cabin noise.

His parents shot us dirty looks every few minutes, as if we were personally responsible for their poor planning.

“I want that!” the boy shrieked, pointing at Ella’s iPad. “It’s not fair!”

His mother leaned over. “I know, honey. Some people are just SELFISH!”

I gritted my teeth, focusing on my book. The words blurred as I tried to block out the chaos around us. Ella remained oblivious, lost in her cartoons.

Grayscale of a sad boy | Source: Pexels

Grayscale of a sad boy | Source: Pexels

Suddenly, a commotion erupted beside us. Entitled Mom had leaned across the aisle, reaching for her bag. But instead of grabbing her belongings, her arm knocked into Ella’s tray table.

Time seemed to slow as I watched Ella’s iPad slide off the tray. It hit the floor with a sickening crack, the screen shattering into a spiderweb of fractures.

Ella’s scream cut through the air. “Mommy, my iPad!”

A tablet with a shattered screen | Source: Midjourney

A tablet with a shattered screen | Source: Midjourney

Entitled Mom’s face lit with fake surprise. “Oh no! I didn’t mean to do that! So clumsy of me!”

But I saw the glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. This was NO ACCIDENT.

“What is wrong with you?” I hissed.

She shrugged, not even trying to hide her smugness. “These things happen. Maybe it’s a sign she needs less screen time.”

Two women arguing | Source: Midjourney

Two women arguing | Source: Midjourney

I was about to unleash a torrent of words that would make a sailor blush when a flight attendant appeared.

“Is everything alright here?” she asked, eyeing the shattered iPad.

Entitled Mom’s act kicked into high gear. “Oh, it was just a terrible accident. I feel awful!”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the flight attendant cut me off with a sympathetic smile.

“I’m so sorry about your device, ma’am. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do mid-flight. Please let us know if you need anything else.”

A flight attendant smiling | Source: Midjourney

A flight attendant smiling | Source: Midjourney

As she walked away, I turned to comfort my distraught daughter, knowing this battle was far from over. But it seemed karma had other plans.

With Ella’s iPad out of commission, the boy’s tantrum reached new heights. He bounced in his seat, kicked the chair in front of him, and yanked on the tray table.

“Sweetie, please settle down,” Entitled Mom pleaded.

“I’m bored! This is the worst trip ever!”

A little boy covering his eye | Source: Pexels

A little boy covering his eye | Source: Pexels

I watched from the corner of my eye, torn between sympathy for the child and a petty sense of satisfaction at Entitled Mom’s struggle.

Ella tugged on my sleeve, her eyes still watery. “Mommy, can you fix it?”

I hugged her close. “I’m sorry, sweetie. We’ll have to get it looked at when we land. How about we read a book instead?”

A little girl crying in an airplane | Source: Midjourney

A little girl crying in an airplane | Source: Midjourney

As I reached into my bag for another book, chaos erupted across the aisle.

The boy, in a fit of hyperactivity, had knocked over Entitled Mom’s coffee cup. The dark liquid spread across her lap and splashed into her open handbag.

“No, no, no!” she cried, frantically trying to save her belongings.

In her haste to rescue her bag, something fell out and landed on the floor. Yikes! It was a small blue booklet. I took a closer look and gasped. It was her PASSPORT!

Coffee spilling from a cup | Source: Midjourney

Coffee spilling from a cup | Source: Midjourney

Before anyone could react, her son’s foot came down on the fallen document, grinding it into the coffee-soaked carpet.

God, you should’ve seen Entitled Mom’s face. It was EPIC!

She snatched up the passport, but the damage was done. The pages were soaked through, stuck together in a soggy mess. The cover was warped beyond recognition. It looked like a water-logged, soggy piece of toast.

A startled woman | Source: Pexels

A startled woman | Source: Pexels

“Ma’am?” A flight attendant approached. “Is that your passport?”

Entitled Mom nodded, speechless for once.

“I’m so sorry, but I have to inform you that a damaged passport could cause serious issues when we land. Especially if you’re traveling internationally.”

Entitled Mom’s eyes widened in panic. She turned to her husband, seeking a way out. “What are we going to do? Our connecting flight to Paris leaves in three hours!”

Side view of a flight attendant | Source: Midjourney

Side view of a flight attendant | Source: Midjourney

Her husband shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. Maybe we can explain at customs?”

As they bickered, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of malevolence.

As the plane began its descent, Entitled Mom was frantically dabbing at her ruined passport with tissues, muttering under her breath. Her son, exhausted from his earlier tantrums, had finally fallen asleep.

An anxious man | Source: Midjourney

An anxious man | Source: Midjourney

I leaned over to Ella, who was reading her storybook with a big smile. “Great job, sweetie! You’re a real bookworm!”

She beamed at me, her earlier distress over the iPad forgotten. “Can we bake cupcakes when we get home, Mommy?”

“Absolutely,” I promised, ruffling her hair. “And maybe we can bake some cookies too!”

A soft whimper from across the aisle drew my attention. Entitled Mom was on the phone, her eyes brimming with panic.

Grayscale of a woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney

Grayscale of a woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney

“Yes, I understand it’s last minute, but we need to reschedule our entire trip. No, we can’t make the connecting flight. Because… because my passport is ruined.”

I couldn’t help but overhear as she explained the situation, detailing how she’d have to go through the process of getting an emergency passport before they could continue their journey.

As we began to taxi to our gate, Entitled Mom caught my eye as we stood to disembark.

An anxious woman with her eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney

An anxious woman with her eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney

For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of remorse in her eyes. But then her son started whining again, and the moment passed.

“Ready to go, Ella?” I asked, helping her gather her things.

“Can we get ice cream at the airport, Mommy?”

“I think we deserve a little treat, don’t you think?!” I laughed.

A boy opening his mouth | Source: Pexels

A boy opening his mouth | Source: Pexels

As we made our way off the plane, I couldn’t help but reflect on the bizarre turn of events. What had started as a simple two-hour flight had turned into a lesson in karma, patience, and the unpredictability of travel.

I glanced back one last time to see Entitled Mom still frantically trying to salvage her ruined passport. It was a grim reminder that our actions, good or bad, often have unexpected consequences.

A frustrated woman holding her head | Source: Pexels

A frustrated woman holding her head | Source: Pexels

Turns out, it wasn’t just Ella’s iPad that got ruined on that flight. Entitled Mom ended up losing something much more valuable!

As we walked hand in hand towards the baggage claim, I squeezed Ella’s fingers, thankful for the perspective this chaotic flight had given me. Sometimes, the best lessons come from the worst experiences.

Have you ever encountered a nightmare neighbor on a flight? Share your own flight horror stories in the comments!

Lady with a little girl leaving an airport | Source: Midjourney

Lady with a little girl leaving an airport | Source: Midjourney

Here’s another story: An entitled rich man mocks a poor boy shining shoes in an underpass. He learns a brutal lesson the very next day.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

At 58, I Found Love Again, but His Ex-wife Was Hell-Bent on Ruining Our Happiness — Story of the Day

At 58, I thought love had passed me by until I met Oliver. Just as our happiness began to bloom, his ex-wife stormed back into his life, determined to tear us apart. What followed was a battle for peace and the strength to overcome the shadows of the past. Could love conquer all?

“Another quiet morning,” I whispered to myself, gazing out the window at the ocean. The waves rolled in gently, and the breeze carried that familiar, salty scent.

It had been years since my divorce, and I had gotten used to the solitude.

“I don’t need anyone,” I would often remind myself, my fingers tapping rhythmically on the keyboard.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

My novels had taken off once I fully committed to writing. The quiet house, with only the sound of seagulls and the ocean, gave me the peace I thought I needed.

But every so often, I’d find myself staring out at the horizon, thinking.

Is this really enough?

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

It wasn’t until Oliver showed up that I realized the answer might be no.

One morning, as I sipped my coffee on the porch, I noticed him for the first time. A tall, charming man, maybe a few years younger than me, strolling along the beach with his golden retriever. I watched as they passed by my house.

“Morning,” he called out, tipping his head with a friendly smile.

“Good morning,” I replied, feeling a little shy.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Each day after that, I found myself looking out for him. I would watch as he walked along the beach, sometimes playing with his dog, sometimes just staring out at the sea. And each time, my heart would skip a beat.

“Why am I so nervous?” I muttered to myself, shaking my head. “It’s just a neighbor. Calm down.”

But I couldn’t. And my feelings grew stronger every time I saw him. Still, I hesitated.

Is it possible to open up to someone again?

One afternoon, while I was trimming my roses, I heard a rustling sound and a loud thud behind me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Startled, I turned to see a golden blur darting into my garden.

“Charlie! Get back here!” I heard Oliver call, and seconds later, he appeared, breathless and apologetic.

“I’m so sorry! He just got away from me.”

I laughed, bending down to pet the dog.

“It’s alright. He’s cute.”

“He’s a handful, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Do you… enjoy reading?” I asked, my voice tentative, hoping to keep the conversation alive.

Oliver chuckled. “I’m a writer. It comes with the territory.”

“We are colleagues!” My eyes lit up. “I’m a novelist too.”

We talked about our favorite books, about writing, and soon enough, the conversation flowed easily.

“You know,” I said, taking a deep breath, “I don’t usually do this, but… would you like to have dinner sometime?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Oliver raised an eyebrow, surprised but pleased.

“I’d love to.”

Just like that, the plan was set.

***

The next evening was perfect. We laughed and shared stories. Maybe this is what I’ve been missing all along. But just as I started to relax, a woman appeared at our table. Her eyes were hard, and she looked straight at Oliver.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“We need to talk. Now,” she demanded, completely ignoring me.

“Excuse me, we’re in the middle of…” I started.

“Not now,” she snapped, her eyes never even glancing in my direction. It was as if I didn’t exist.

I felt my face flush, my words stuck in my throat. Oliver looked flustered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sorry, Haley,” he muttered, standing up awkwardly. “I have to go.”

I watched, speechless, as he followed her out, leaving me sitting there, feeling invisible. The chatter of the restaurant buzzed around me, but I was numb, frozen in place.

The empty chair across from me seemed like a reflection of how abandoned I felt.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

Two days had passed since that awkward dinner, and Oliver still hadn’t called. The silence weighed on me more than I wanted to admit. I felt hurt, confused, and, honestly, a little humiliated.

My mind kept replaying the scene, the way he left without a proper explanation, the way that woman had dismissed me as if I didn’t matter.

I sat at my desk, trying to focus on my writing, but it was no use. My thoughts kept drifting back to that night.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Had I made a mistake inviting him? Was he just playing with me? Who was that woman? And why did he leave with her without even a real explanation?

I was about to give up and close my laptop when I heard a knock at the door. My heart raced as I stood up, part of me hoping, and part of me dreading what might come next.

When I opened the door, Oliver was standing on my doorstep with flowers in his hand.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I stared at him, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry, Haley,” he began.

“That woman from the other night… She’s my ex-wife, Rebecca. She shows up like that sometimes, trying to stir things up and ruin my relationships. I didn’t want to make a scene, so I had to leave with her.”

I tried to mask my emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me that then?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“I panicked. I should have explained. I’m sorry.”

He paused, offering the flowers.

“I want to make it up to you. I have a literary event coming up. Will you come? It’ll be quieter, and maybe we can spend some time together.”

I hesitated a bit but then nodded.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

I had dressed carefully, hoping for a peaceful evening, a chance to talk to Oliver without interruptions. Maybe, tonight will be different.

Oliver greeted me with a warm smile. “I’m glad you came.”

I smiled back, trying to push aside the unease I still felt.

The evening started well. Oliver’s presentation was engaging. For a while, I forgot about everything that had happened.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

But just as I began to feel at ease, the mood in the room shifted.

I saw the same woman from that night at the restaurant. Rebecca. She strode in with a determined look on her face, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Oliver. My stomach dropped.

Without hesitation, she marched over to where Oliver and I stood.

“You thought you could just move on, didn’t you, Oliver?” she spat, glaring at him.

The room grew quiet, and all eyes were on us.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Rebecca, this isn’t the time or place.”

Oliver took a step toward her, trying to calm her down, but it only made things worse.

“Time or place? How dare you?” she snapped, her voice rising. “You’re a liar and a cheat! You think you can just forget about everything we had? You think you can walk away from me?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

People began to whisper, their curiosity piqued by the unfolding drama.

Rebecca’s eyes turned to me then.

“And you,” she said, her voice dripping with venom, “you’re just another one of his mistakes.”

Before I could even respond, she grabbed a glass of wine from a nearby table and threw it in my face. The cold liquid soaked my hair and dress.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Gasps filled the room. For a second, I just stood there, too humiliated to move. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and all I wanted to do was disappear.

Security rushed in and quickly escorted Rebecca out, but the damage was already done.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I felt small and exposed. The warmth I had felt earlier was gone, replaced by a crushing sense of shame. I wiped my face and looked at Oliver, who stood there, silent and torn.

“What is going on, Oliver? Why is she doing this? And what aren’t you telling me?”

Oliver sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I… I haven’t told you everything,” he admitted, his eyes full of regret.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Rebecca and I have been separated for a while, but during that time, I had an affair. It was a mistake, and I’ve regretted it ever since. Then Rebecca came back into my life and took control. She managed everything. My finances. My schedule. She used my guilt to keep me trapped.”

I felt a heavy weight settle over me and realized how deep that mess went.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“I’ve been trying to leave her for good, but she refuses to let go,” he continued. “I didn’t want to drag you into all of this.”

“I don’t think I can do this, Oliver,” I whispered. “I’m not ready for this kind of drama in my life.”

Without waiting for his response, I turned and walked out, the cool evening air hitting my face as I stepped outside.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

Several days had passed since the disastrous evening at the literary event, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Oliver. Despite everything that had happened, I missed him.

I tried to push the feelings away, to convince myself that walking out had been the right choice, but the ache of missing him wouldn’t fade.

One afternoon, as I sat by the window, a flicker of movement caught my eye. It was at Oliver’s house. I watched as Rebecca hurried back and forth, swiftly loading boxes into a car.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Is he moving out? Why is she here?

I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I had to tell him that he needed to be stronger, to stand up for himself, and to stop letting people like Rebecca control his life.

Summoning my courage, I stepped outside and made my way toward his house.

But as I approached, something felt different. Oliver’s car pulled up, and when he stepped out, there was a calm, resolute look on his face—one I hadn’t seen before. I hesitated, keeping my distance, watching as he walked straight to Rebecca.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“It’s over, Rebecca,” I heard him say. “Take the money, take the house—whatever you want. But you will not interfere in my life anymore.”

Rebecca froze, staring at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” he said, his voice unwavering. “If you don’t respect that, I’ll file a restraining order. This ends today.”

I stood there, shocked. That was a side of Oliver I had never seen.

At that moment, I knew. He had finally taken control of his life, and that was exactly what I needed to see.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

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