My Future Mother-in-Law Made Me Bathe in a Basin Outside to 'Test' Me – Karma Found Her in the End

I thought a weekend at my future in-laws' lake house would be relaxing — until my fiancé's mom set me to work. Cleaning, cooking… and then a broken shower that forced me to bathe in a basin outside. Then, I overheard a phone call that changed everything.

"We'd love to get to know you better," my future MIL cooed through the phone. "Just a quiet getaway at our lake house. Nothing fancy."

I glanced over my shoulder at Josh, who gave me a thumbs-up from across our apartment. His eager smile made my chest tighten.

We'd been engaged for three months, so this was as good a time as any to spend more time with my future family.

"That sounds lovely," I replied, matching her syrupy tone. "We can't wait."

Three days later, I stepped out of Josh's car and felt my stomach drop.

The lake house loomed before us like something from a forgotten horror movie. A moldy, earthy smell slapped my nose as soon as we walked through the door.

Josh's mom appeared from what I assumed was the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishrag that had seen better days.

"There you are," she said, embracing Josh before turning to me.

She looked me up and down, then wrinkled her nose slightly, as if I were the one who smelled.

"Oh, we didn't have time to clean," she said, voice light and fake as whipped cream from a can. "Would you mind helping out? You know... since you're going to be family."

Josh jumped in. "Mom, we just got here. Maybe we could settle in first?"

"Nonsense," she waved him off. "The sooner we get this place habitable, the sooner we can relax. There are cleaning supplies under the sink."

I caught Josh's apologetic glance but smiled tightly and said, "No problem. Happy to help."

Three hours later, I kneeled beside the toilet, scrubbing the rim with an old brush.

Through the open window, I heard the distinctive pop of a cork. Laughter filtered in — Josh's mom, his dad, and Josh himself. I rose and went out into the living room. All three of them were relaxing on the porch while I worked!

"You're doing such a good job, sweetie," his mom called through the screen door. "We really appreciate it."

I gritted my teeth so hard my jaw ached.

By dinnertime, the place was as clean as it could get in a few hours, and I was starving. I entered the kitchen to ask about dinner.

"We're grilling tonight!" Denise announced. "Hope you know how to work a barbecue — we like our women capable."

She handed over a tray of raw meat like it was a contestant's challenge on MasterChef. Steaks, chicken, and burgers, all marinated in something that smelled strongly of garlic and soy sauce.

Josh reached out. "I'll help—"

"No, no," his mom interrupted, waving him off. "Let her handle it. We need to see if she can keep up with our family traditions."

I took the tray, feeling like I was accepting some kind of ceremonial burden.

I flipped burgers with one hand, holding my hair back with the other. Through the kitchen window, I could see Josh's mom watching me, a glass of wine in her hand and a small smile playing on her lips.

This wasn't about dinner or cleaning. This was about watching me dance.

After dinner, still smelling like charcoal and Lysol, I finally asked the question that had been on my mind since we arrived.

"Could I take a quick shower?"

Josh's mom's eyes sparkled with something that looked suspiciously like amusement.

"Oh, sweetie," she said, drawing the words out like honey from a jar. "The indoor shower's busted. But don't worry — we have a wash basin out back. There's a hose you can fill it with. There's even a little privacy curtain!"

She said it like she was doing me a favor. Like offering me the chance to bathe like it was 1862 was some kind of treat.

Josh shifted beside me, eyes on the floor. His jaw flexed. But he didn't argue.

"Right," I said, swallowing my pride for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "Thanks."

Barefoot, I padded through the damp grass, my towel clutched to my chest.

The plastic curtain flapped in the breeze, barely hanging on to the metal frame that surrounded the "bathing area."

The basin was metal and shallow, and the hose sputtered out water cold enough to make my teeth chatter.

I scrubbed in silence under the open sky as I battled to hold back my tears.

I'd thought it would be nice to spend time with Josh's family. Instead, it felt like his mom was out to get me.

The next morning, I woke early, skin still sticky from the night air and inadequate rinsing. Josh snored softly beside me in the guest bed that was somehow both too soft and too firm.

I slipped out quietly and headed to the kitchen for water.

Through a slightly open window, I heard Josh's mom on the phone in the backyard. Her words made my jaw drop.

"I made her scrub the place, cook for us, and bathe outside," she giggled like a teenager sharing gossip. "She thinks the shower's broken. Please. It works fine. I just wanted to see what kind of girl she is. A little test. Let's see how long she plays Cinderella."

My stomach turned. I backed away from the window, heart racing.

I wanted to confront her… I wanted to march out there and hose her down with the frigid water I'd bathed in last night, but I didn't.

I fetched a glass and approached the sink to pour myself a glass of water.

Just then, heavy footsteps sounded behind me as someone entered the kitchen.

"You won't get any water from that sink," Josh's dad said. "The plumber's coming out later to fix it, but for now, try the bathroom."

I nodded and didn't think anything more of it. I had much bigger worries on my mind.

As I returned to the guest bedroom, I decided the first thing I needed to do was discuss this nightmare of a trip with Josh.

I spent most of the morning avoiding Josh's mom. It was just before midday when I managed to pull Josh aside to take a walk around the lake with me.

The sun filtered through the trees, birds chirped, and water lapped gently against the shore.

"Sorry about all this," he said as we walked. "Mom can be... intense."

"Is that what we're calling it?" I asked.

He sighed. "She's just protective. Wants to make sure you're right for me."

"By making me scrub toilets and cook over an open flame?"

"It's not ideal, I know. But she'll come around."

I wasn't so sure, but I nodded anyway.

As we rounded the bend toward the house, I saw a truck parked in the driveway.

"Looks like we have company," Josh remarked.

As if on cue, we heard a scream — glass-shattering and unmistakably his mother's voice. We ran the rest of the way, bursting through the front door to find Josh's dad looking bewildered in the living room.

"What happened?" Josh demanded.

His dad pointed toward the hallway. "The plumber came early to fix the kitchen sink. Your mom was... well, she was coming out of the shower."

The shower. The supposedly broken shower.

Just then, a red-faced man in overalls hurried past us, toolbox in hand.

"So sorry," he mumbled. "I used the code she gave me. Didn't know anyone was... I mean, I thought the house was empty."

The bathroom door slammed, followed by the sound of frantic movement.

Josh turned to his dad. "I thought you said the shower was broken?"

His dad looked confused.

"No, it's the kitchen sink that's been acting up. Why would you think—"

Josh's mom appeared then, wrapped in a towel, hair dripping, face blotchy red with embarrassment and fury.

"Why didn't you tell him I was here?!" she shrieked at her husband.

I couldn't help it. A small smile crept across my lips.

"I thought the shower was broken," I said, my voice innocent but my eyes locked on hers.

Josh blinked. Looked at his mom. Then me. Then his mom again.

"You lied?" he asked her.

She didn't answer. Her silence was confirmation enough.

We packed that evening. Josh didn't speak to his mother, and she didn't try to stop us from leaving. She didn't need to say anything: the game was over.

As we carried our bags to the car, the lake glistened in the setting sun. The porch swing creaked in the wind.

Josh was quiet as he drove, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

"I'm sorry," he finally said when we were halfway home.

"For what?" I asked, though I knew.

"For not standing up for you. For letting her treat you that way."

I reached over and touched his arm. "Some tests backfire."

He glanced at me, then back at the road. "What do you mean?"

"She wasn't just testing me, Josh. She was testing you, too, to see how much you'd tolerate. And I think we both learned something important."

The highway stretched before us, taking us away from the lake house and its twisted games.

Karma doesn't knock. She lets herself in, unexpected and perfectly timed.

I rolled down the window and let the wind wash over me, feeling clean for the first time all weekend.

Here's another story: My wife asked me to bail out her reckless sister, whose new car and "treat yourself" lifestyle had buried them in debt. I said no — we had savings goals. But when $2K vanished from our account, I realized she'd gone behind my back… and the real fallout was only beginning.

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.