I was celebrating my 40th birthday — a milestone I’d been planning for weeks.
The house was decorated, the table beautifully set, laughter and music filled the air.
It was perfect — until the moment of gifts.

I’d secretly hoped my husband would surprise me with a new phone. My old one had drowned in the sink, thanks to our little daughter’s curiosity.

Then he walked up, grinning, holding a sleek orange box with that famous logo. My heart skipped a beat.

“Well, open it,” he said, trying not to laugh.

With shaking hands, I lifted the lid… and froze.

The box was empty. No phone, no charger — nothing.

My husband burst out laughing. My mother-in-law stood there, filming, giggling as she proudly showed off her own brand-new iPhone — the one that should’ve been in my box.

“Funny, isn’t it?” he wheezed between laughs.

The guests went silent. The room felt heavy.

I forced a smile. “Thanks,” I said softly. “Such an original gift.”

But inside, something cracked.

When the party ended and he went out to see the guests off, still smug, I quietly packed a small bag — his toothbrush, a few shirts, his charger, razor — and placed it neatly by the door.

Then I locked it from the inside.

Moments later, he knocked.
“Open up! What’s wrong? I forgot my keys!”

I walked up slowly and said through the door, calm and cold:

“You can stay at Mom’s. There’s an iPhone there, it’s fun, and they’re filming you. I’ll take some time to think about whether I need a clown in my house.”

He didn’t laugh after that.

I sat on the couch, poured myself a glass of champagne, and smiled — truly smiled — for the first time that night.

Because sometimes… the best gift you can give someone is a reminder:
jokes have consequences. 🎁💔