There are “boundary issues,” and then there’s “I’m going to waltz into a house I don’t live in and start throwing out towels and painting walls” level entitlement. One woman on Reddit just found out her dad’s new girlfriend is the second kind, and her solution was so petty, so brilliant, and so haunting, it deserves an award.
Our narrator is a 29-year-old woman who lives in the house she inherited from her grandmother. Her dad moved in with her after his divorce, and it’s all good. They get along great. A happy, functional home.
Six months ago, Dad starts dating “Linda” (52F). And Linda… well, Linda has ideas. She’s decided this house, which is not hers, needs a “woman’s touch.” And she’s decided she’s the woman to provide it, without asking, ever.
It started small, as these things always do. Throw pillows. New kitchen curtains. Then, she rearranged the living room. Then, she threw out their old towels and bought new ones. Who does that? The dad, to his credit, keeps telling her to stop, but she just steamrolls him, saying she’s “just trying to help” and make it “homey.”
But it got so, so much worse. Last month, Linda announced she was going to paint the living room. The narrator told her, “absolutely not, this is my house, you don’t live here.” But Linda still didn’t get it. She even painted over a wall that had the grandmother’s handprints on it from a craft project. I am… I am unwell. That is not a “boundary issue.” That is an act of war.
The narrator had enough. She did have the “direct conversation” her sister is nagging her about. She had multiple direct conversations. Linda. Did. Not. Listen. She just called her “territorial.” When you ignore a “no,” you are no longer entitled to a “nice.”
So our hero told her dad she was going to “mess with Linda,” and her dad, a king, said “I’ll stay out of it.” Linda has a habit of coming over when no one is home to “tidy up” (read: re-stage the house). So our hero started her haunting. She’d move picture frames back, but slightly tilted. She moved her grandma’s old rocking chair to different spots. She left her grandma’s reading glasses on random tables. A perfect, subtle, gaslight-for-good campaign.
Last week, Linda came over to “help” while the narrator was home. She’s downstairs, moving furniture, and our hero… she sees her chance. She takes her grandmother’s old shawl, drapes it over her shoulders, and just… walks slowly past the doorway. Not a word.
Linda screamed. She dropped what she was holding. She asked, terrified, if the narrator saw “the woman in the old shawl.” Our hero, in an Oscar-winning performance, just said, “what woman?” Linda described the shawl, and the narrator said, “that sounds like my grandmother’s shawl… but I haven’t seen it in years.”
Linda fled. She hasn’t redecorated since. In fact, she called the dad to apologize. She said she “did some research” (lol) and thinks the grandmother’s spirit is “attached to the house” and “uncomfortable with the changes.” She apologized for “disrupting the energy.” The dad, a legend, “could barely keep a straight face on the phone.”
The sister thinks this is “cruel.” And our narrator is wondering if she’s the ahole. Let’s be abundantly clear: N-T-A. You are not the ahole. You are a hero. This woman painted over your dead grandmother’s handprints. She didn’t deserve a “direct conversation.” She deserved a full-blown poltergeist.
You didn’t “psychologically mess with her.” You just… strongly encouraged her to come to the correct conclusion. Your grandmother’s spirit is uncomfortable. And apparently, you are its avenging angel.