Entitled Brat Mocks School Custodian, Gets Taught a Priceless Lesson in the Best Way Possible

Entitled Brat Mocks School Custodian, Gets Taught a Priceless Lesson in the Best Way Possible

Entitled teen Emma thought the world revolved around her and she mocked people based on their appearance. One day, the girl took her mockery too far and brutally insulted Mrs. Johnson, a poor older custodian. But karma was about to deliver a priceless lesson this entitled brat wouldn’t soon forget.

Alright, lovely people of the internet! Ever witnessed a high schooler throw some serious shade at someone who totally didn’t deserve it?

Because what I’m about to tell you involves a major brat who ruthlessly mocked a poor old custodian and got a life lesson delivered in the most epic way possible…

A schoolgirl in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

A schoolgirl in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

So here’s this rich girl named Emma in my sophomore English class, who basically waltzed around like she owned the place.

Think designer everything, a posse of giggling followers, and the permanent sneer of someone utterly convinced the world was her personal runway.

Her favorite target? Our sweet custodian, Mrs. Johnson, a hardworking older lady in her late 60s. Think soft-spoken, kind, and always cheerful – that’s Mrs. Johnson for you.

A custodian mopping the floor | Source: Midjourney

A custodian mopping the floor | Source: Midjourney

This sweet custodian in our school, bless her heart, was magic. Always had a smile, even when mopping up cafeteria mystery spills that defied identification.

Emma, though? She’d make snide remarks about Mrs. Johnson’s cleaning cart, calling it a “janitor chariot” in that grating, nasally voice.

A teen girl laughing | Source: Midjourney

A teen girl laughing | Source: Midjourney

One afternoon, I caught Emma dumping her half-eaten lunch on the floor by the water fountain, then sauntering away like it was nothing. Mrs. Johnson patiently approached the mess with a sigh.

“Emma, honey,” she called out gently, “did you drop this?”

A burger on the floor | Source: Midjourney

A burger on the floor | Source: Midjourney

Emma whipped around, highlighter poised like a weapon. “Ugh, whatever, Mrs. J. Just clean it up, that’s your job, right?” The look on Mrs. Johnson’s face… well, let’s just say the sunshine usually radiating from her seemed to dim a bit.

A girl smiling | Source: Midjourney

A girl smiling | Source: Midjourney

Ugh, you know those moments where you just want the earth to swallow you whole? Well, that’s exactly how I felt witnessing Emma’s latest tirade.

This girl, with her designer everything and attitude, seemed to take a particular pleasure in tormenting Mrs. Johnson.

An older woman looking ahead | Source: Midjourney

An older woman looking ahead | Source: Midjourney

One lunch period, I rounded the corner by the cafeteria to find Emma holding court near the overflowing trash cans. Mrs. Johnson was pushing her cleaning cart past them, mop leaving a clean streak in its wake.

A girl teasing someone | Source: Midjourney

A girl teasing someone | Source: Midjourney

Emma, with a smirk that could curdle milk, decided to unleash a verbal grenade at the poor woman who never meant harm to anyone.

“HEY, MRS. JOHNSON,” the girl barked with a chuckle, “MAYBE IF YOU HAD STUDIED HARDER, YOU WOULDN’T BE STUCK CLEANING UP AFTER US!”

A sad woman's eyes | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney

The worst part? Her disciples as in the little gang that followed her like a puppy burst out laughing. Mrs. Johnson stopped pushing her cart, the rhythmic squeak of the wheels falling silent.

Her shoulders slumped a fraction, and for a horrible moment, I thought I saw a flicker of tears welling up in her kind eyes.

An upset woman looking up | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman looking up | Source: Midjourney

Then, Emma doubled down, leaning in with a malicious glint.

“Seriously, do you even know how to read? Or did you just skip school altogether?”

Mrs. Johnson’s silence was deafening. The hurt flickered in her eyes like a dying flame, and I knew I couldn’t be a bystander any longer. Emma needed a lesson, and detention wouldn’t cut it.

A sad woman on the verge of crying | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman on the verge of crying | Source: Midjourney

Fast forward to chemistry class later that week, our chemistry teacher Ms. Thompson droned on about the periodic table.

Suddenly, she cleared her throat, the sound sharp enough to pierce Emma’s bubble. “Alright class,” she announced, a hint of a smile playing on her lips, “we have a special guest lecturer today. A former university professor with a wealth of knowledge to share.”

A chemistry teacher in class | Source: Midjourney

A chemistry teacher in class | Source: Midjourney

A hush fell over the room as the door creaked open. A woman in a crisp cap and gown strode in, a stack of papers clutched confidently in her hand. Her gaze swept the classroom, lingering for a beat on Emma, who finally looked up from her phone.

You should have seen Emma’s white-as-a-ghost face when she saw the guest lecturer. You see, this wasn’t some stuffy professor flown in from a distant college. No, this woman, radiating quiet authority, was none other than Mrs. Johnson!

A shocked girl | Source: Midjourney

A shocked girl | Source: Midjourney

“Good afternoon, class,” Mrs. Johnson greeted. “Today, we’ll be discussing the fascinating world of…” She paused, letting the silence build. “Perhaps, Ms. Emma,” she continued, her eyes locking with Emma’s, “you can tell me the difference between a hypothesis and a theory.”

The classroom held its breath. Emma’s mouth gaped open like a landed fish. This was only the beginning, and the best part? She had no idea what was about to hit her.

A woman staring intensely at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman staring intensely at someone | Source: Midjourney

Emma’s jaw dropped, and her face turned as red as a tomato. Mrs. Johnson proceeded to give the most engaging lecture on organic chemistry I had ever witnessed.

She explained complex concepts with ease and answered every question thrown at her with the expertise of someone who had spent years in the field.

“So, who can tell me why carbon forms four bonds?” Mrs. Johnson’s eyes scanned the room.

An annoyed girl | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed girl | Source: Midjourney

“Isn’t it because of its four valence electrons?” a boy named Jake piped up, a bit unsure.

“Exactly! And how does that affect its ability to form complex molecules?” Her voice was encouraging, drawing the class in.

“It means… it can bond with many different elements?” a student named Sarah hesitated.

A boy raising his hand in class | Source: Midjourney

A boy raising his hand in class | Source: Midjourney

“Precisely! And that’s why carbon is the backbone of organic chemistry. It’s versatile,” Mrs. Johnson beamed.

Emma, still red-faced, mumbled, “I didn’t know a janitor could know so much.”

A girl lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

A girl lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney

Mrs. Johnson paused, looking directly at Emma. “You know, knowledge isn’t confined to titles. It’s about passion and curiosity.”

The class was silent, absorbing her words while some giggled at Emma.

“Any more questions?” Mrs. Johnson asked, turning back to the board.

A woman looking ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking ahead | Source: Midjourney

Emma was so embarrassed and furious that she sat frozen in her seat. Her eyeballs darted around, tracking Mrs. Johnson like a predator stalking its prey.

After the lecture, Mrs. Johnson removed her academic cap and looked directly at Emma.

“Maybe if you study harder, you won’t end up making assumptions about people based on their jobs, girl!” she said calmly.

A woman pointing her finger at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman pointing her finger at someone | Source: Midjourney

The entire class erupted in applause while Emma sat there, stunned and embarrassed.

You should’ve seen the girl’s face. She was seething. She wasn’t the type to let this slide.

The next thing we knew, Emma stormed out of the classroom, her footsteps echoing down the hall. But my mind was still on this entitled brat. What was she planning?

A girl leaving a classroom | Source: Midjourney

A girl leaving a classroom | Source: Midjourney

Of course, Emma, being the firecracker she was, couldn’t take her public humiliation lying down. The rumor mill went into overdrive, churning out a story so outlandish it almost made me laugh.

Apparently, The girl started spreading rumors that Mrs. Johnson had borrowed the professorial garb from a friend (who?) and simply read the lecture off a script (written by whom?).

Funny, right?

A girl in the school cafeteria | Source: Midjourney

A girl in the school cafeteria | Source: Midjourney

The rumor spread like wildfire. Even some normally level-headed students started giving Mrs. Johnson the side-eye. It was infuriating! But Mrs. Johnson, bless her heart, remained calm. No dramatics, no tearful outbursts. She simply… waited.

The opportunity for a counter-strike arrived with the much-dreaded parent-teacher conference the next week. Parents flooded the school, armed with questions and concerns.

People at a doorway | Source: Midjourney

People at a doorway | Source: Midjourney

Among them were Emma’s parents, both prominent figures in the community with a reputation for being… well, let’s just say they wielded their influence like a well-worn scepter.

As I finished my conference with a concerned parent, I spotted Mrs. Johnson standing by the refreshments table.

A woman looking to her side | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking to her side | Source: Midjourney

During the conference, she requested to speak. She calmly walked to the front of the room, pulled out a folder, and began distributing copies of her Ph.D. diploma, letters of recommendation from her previous university, and published research papers.

The parents and teachers were stunned. Even me.

Certificates on a table | Source: Midjourney

Certificates on a table | Source: Midjourney

“As you can see,” Mrs. Johnson declared, “I have the qualifications necessary to teach chemistry.” She paused, letting the evidence sink in. “I’ve heard rumors suggesting otherwise, and I want to address them directly.”

Emma’s parents, visibly uncomfortable, exchanged worried glances. Mrs. Johnson turned her gaze to them. “Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, I’m aware your daughter has been spreading these rumors.”

A startled couple | Source: Midjourney

A startled couple | Source: Midjourney

Emma’s mother started to speak, but Mrs. Johnson raised a hand gently. “Please, let me finish.”

She took a deep breath. “I took this custodial job not because I lacked education or ambition, but because I needed the extra money to care for my ill husband. My choices were driven by love and responsibility, not by a lack of intelligence or effort.”

A woman staring at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman staring at someone | Source: Midjourney

A hush fell over the room. Parents looked at each other, some nodding in understanding, others shifting uncomfortably.

“My husband passed away last year,” Mrs. Johnson continued, tears welling up in her eyes. “But I stayed on as a custodian because this school and these students mean the world to me.”

A woman's teary eyes | Source: Midjourney

A woman’s teary eyes | Source: Midjourney

Emma’s face went completely pale at this point. Mrs. Johnson stepped back from the podium, and said, “I hope this clears up any misunderstandings. I’m here to educate and support your children, no matter my title. I might be a custodian who washes toilets and scrubs floors… but I’m still human.”

Emma’s eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape.

Anxious girl biting her nails | Source: Midjourney

Anxious girl biting her nails | Source: Midjourney

Emma’s parents were mortified. They apologized profusely to Mrs. Johnson and promised to deal with their daughter.

Emma was grounded for months and had to do community service as part of her punishment. One of her tasks? Helping Mrs. Johnson with her custodial duties after school.

A young girl on the verge of crying | Source: Midjourney

A young girl on the verge of crying | Source: Midjourney

I watched Emma begrudgingly pick up a mop and start cleaning the hallway. Mrs. Johnson worked alongside her, showing her the ropes. At first, Emma was sullen and silent, but over time, I noticed a change.

One afternoon, as I passed by, I heard Emma ask Mrs. Johnson, “Why did you stay on as a custodian after your husband passed?”

A girl standing in a school hallway | Source: Midjourney

A girl standing in a school hallway | Source: Midjourney

Mrs. Johnson paused, wiping her hands on a rag. “This school became my second home. And the kids here, well, they needed someone who cared.”

Emma frowned. “But you could have done something else, right?”

Mrs. Johnson smiled gently. “Sure, but sometimes, it’s not about what you can do, but where you feel you can make the most impact.”

A girl talking to someone | Source: Midjourney

A girl talking to someone | Source: Midjourney

Emma’s eyes softened. “I never thought about it that way.”

As the weeks went by, Emma’s demeanor shifted. She began to show up early, ready to work, and started to ask Mrs. Johnson more about her life. They shared stories, and slowly, Emma developed a grudging respect for her.

An older woman's compassionate eyes | Source: Midjourney

An older woman’s compassionate eyes | Source: Midjourney

The girl was ashamed of herself and even apologized to Mrs. Johnson. How cool was that?!

Mrs. Johnson, ever the kind soul, forgave Emma and used the opportunity to mentor her. Eventually, Emma’s grades improved, and she became more considerate towards others.

By the time she graduated, she had completely transformed from the entitled brat she once was.

A cheerful young girl smiling | Source: Midjourney

A cheerful young girl smiling | Source: Midjourney

One afternoon, Emma approached Mrs. Johnson after finishing her custodial duties. I was there, talking to the sweet old lady. I thought Emma would hesitate or feel shy to talk to the custodian in front of me.

But the girl proved me wrong. “Mrs. Johnson, I’m really sorry for everything. I was awful to you,” she said and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

A woman smiling at someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling at someone | Source: Midjourney

Mrs. Johnson smiled gently and replied, “Emma, we all make mistakes. What’s important is that you learn and grow from them.”

Emma nodded, her eyes sincere. “I have, thanks to you.”

Ah, it was such a heartwarming sight, you know! The mentorship deepened, with Mrs. Johnson helping Emma with her studies and offering life advice. Emma’s grades soared, and her attitude shift was noticeable to everyone.

A girl in a classroom | Source: Midjourney

A girl in a classroom | Source: Midjourney

Graduation day arrived, and Emma, now the valedictorian, stood at the podium. She took a deep breath, scanning the audience until her eyes landed on Mrs. Johnson.

“I want to thank someone very special,” she began, “Mrs. Johnson, our school’s custodian and my mentor, taught me the most valuable lesson of all: never judge a book by its cover.”

A young girl on graduation day | Source: Midjourney

A young girl on graduation day | Source: Midjourney

The crowd murmured, and Mrs. Johnson looked surprised and touched. We teachers, along with the principal himself, were equally moved. I even spotted him discreetly wiping a stray tear from his eye.

Emma continued, “Her kindness, wisdom, and support changed my life. Because of her, I’m standing here today, ready to face the future.”

As the applause erupted, the girl stepped down and hugged Mrs. Johnson tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered, “for everything. For opening my eyes.”

A girl on graduation day | Source: Midjourney

A girl on graduation day | Source: Midjourney

Mrs. Johnson’s eyes were misty and all she could do was pull Emma into a tight hug. The room erupted in applause, and even some of us teachers found ourselves wiping away tears.

Lesson learned: never underestimate someone by their appearance!

Mrs. Johnson, the custodian, just dropped some serious knowledge (and a Ph.D.!). Anyone else ever been surprised by someone’s hidden depths? Let’s hear about it!

A woman looking ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking ahead | Source: Midjourney

My Mother-in-Law Purchased the Perfect Mattress for Me – I Was Horrified When I Discovered Her Real Intentions

Despite her age, Julia was just full of life. She constantly walked in and out of our home, ready to throw herself into our kitchen.

“I just want to feed you guys,” she told me when I asked her to sit down, ready to cook for her instead.

“I don’t have anything else to do besides meet the ladies for drinks,” she chuckled.

It usually ended with us cooking together — Toby coming home to music and laughter echoing in the kitchen.

My parents were across the country because I had moved for college, and ended up settling down here with Toby. And as much as phone and video calls kept me close to my family, at the end of the day, Julia filled the role of a mother — a mother in close proximity anyway.

After three years of being married, Toby and I were trying to have a baby.

“I’m ready if you are,” Toby told me. “I think it’s time now.”

I agreed with Toby. I was ready — I wanted to be a mom.

So, we began trying. And for months, we just couldn’t get pregnant. And the longer we tried, the more reality set in. Maybe we just weren’t meant to have biological children.

“What do you want to do?” I asked Toby. “Keep trying?”

Toby nodded. I knew that he wouldn’t ask me to do anything I didn’t want to do, but I also knew that he desperately wanted to be a father.

So, torn, I turned to my mother-in-law for advice. Julia took me to meet with a wellness coach, she took me for fertility massages, and then, she even bought Toby and I a brand new mattress.

“Maybe your body is just not rested enough,” my mother-in-law said. “Maybe you just need to give your body the best chance possible at this.”

“Do you think that it was a bit unnecessary?” I asked Toby as we got into bed that night, testing out our new mattress.

“Normally, I would have said yes,” Toby admitted. “But maybe there’s something to what Mom said. Our mattress was horrible before. Maybe it will make a difference.”

And it did. Because not even a month later, I discovered that we were pregnant. At first, I didn’t know whether to tell my husband and our family because I was so nervous about everything.

I felt that if I acknowledged the truth, then maybe I was inviting something to happen. But it made no sense — my irrational fear was selfish. Toby needed to know that we were well on our way to being parents.

“Thank goodness,” Toby said, picking me up. “Finally!”

Once we were safe within the second trimester, we told our family — satisfied that our baby’s growth was on track.

And then, before we knew it, our daughter, Maddie, was born.

My mother-in-law took over, caring for the three of us while we navigated the new waters of parenthood. She cooked and cleaned, and took over Maddie’s early morning feeding times.

Julia’s presence made me feel loved, especially because my parents were unable to come over and meet our baby yet.

Until Toby discovered something in our home that changed the way I viewed Julia forever.

Toby and I didn’t mind that Maddie spent the night in our bed – it was just easier for me to feed her through the night. But one night, Maddie had a blow-out, causing our bed to suffer the consequences.

“You sort the baby out,” Toby yawned when I woke him up to Maddie’s drama. “I’ll sort the bed out.”

I picked up my daughter and took her into the bathroom – her blow-out called for a bath, not just a diaper change. Maddie cooed and pressed her gummy hands to my face.

“Sweet girl,” I told her. “You just have to make life difficult for Dad and me, huh?”

Meanwhile, what I didn’t know was that while Toby was stripping our bed, he had uncovered something strange attached to our mattress.

By the time I was done with Maddie, she was almost asleep again. So, I took her to our bedroom, ready to put her into the crib while I helped Toby change the bedding.

“Oh, honey,” he said when he saw me standing in the doorway. “We cannot use this anymore.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, setting Maddie down. “Did she get it into the mattress?”

Toby looked nervous. He had picked up the mattress so that it stood on its side.

“No, it’s not that,” he said.

I was perplexed, watching him struggle with words. “What are you talking about? It’s just a mattress, we’ll clean it–”

“No, Larissa,” he interrupted, his voice rising in panic. “It’s not just a mattress.”

By this point, I was sleep-deprived and slightly annoyed with my husband. Toby was not a man to fumble for his words, and yet, here he was, in the early hours of the morning, too uncertain to change the sheets.

“What?”

“Look what I found,” he said.

Toby handed me a little silk bag. Inside there were various herbs. I hadn’t seen the bag before.

“What is this? Where did you find it?” I asked.

“It was pinned to the mattress. It was under the mattress protector, so I think we just didn’t notice it before.”

“Fine, but what is it for?” I asked, confused and irritable.

“It’s fertility herbs, it has to be!” Toby exclaimed.

I had no idea what he was talking about.

“Listen, I don’t know if this is true or not, but I do know that my mother believes in old wives’ tales. What if this is one of those tales?”

“She would never do that,” I said. “No way!”

“Then where else did it come from?” Toby asked flatly.

He made us sleep in the guest bedroom – where Julia slept when she stayed over. But of course, I couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t silence my mind.

I looked at Maddie, sleeping in between Toby and me. She was perfect. Sure, we had a difficult time conceiving, but Maddie was our child through and through. She had my hair and Toby’s eyes. She was ours in every sense of the word.

But there was no mistaking the fact that she was born shortly after Julia had gifted us the bed.

Could those herbs have helped with Maddie’s birth? But was that even possible?

I don’t remember falling asleep, but when I woke up, the familiar smell of gas hit my nose. Outside, Toby was dousing our mattress. He threw the match on it as I stepped outside the back door.

The mattress went up in flames in an instant – the flames seemed to dance with a fervor that matched the turmoil inside me. I was trying to understand Julia’s motives. She had always been so close to us – to me – so I couldn’t understand why she would keep this away from me.

I didn’t understand the significance of the herbs, but if she had explained it to me, I wouldn’t have felt the paranoia and fear that had settled in my body since Toby’s discovery.

“What are you doing?” I exclaimed, hearing the fire grow louder.

“We couldn’t keep it, honey. We just couldn’t,” he said.

Toby had a deep fear for anything esoteric – anything that bordered the supernatural was too much for him. He would have rather slept in our car than spent another night in the house with the mattress.

As the mattress burned, I kept an eye on the baby monitor, watching Maddie sleep. The silence between Toby and I was heavy with the uncertainty of what had been going on in our home.

Later, Julia came over to make was breakfast as usual. My husband took the lead, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of betrayal.

“Mom, why didn’t you tell us about the mattress? About the herbs?” he asked.

I poured Julia a cup of tea – despite everything that we had learned, she was still one of my favorite people. I loved her like I loved my mother.

My mother-in-law’s face crumpled, her usual vibrancy replaced by a somber guilt.

“I just wanted to help. I knew that you were having trouble conceiving, and I thought that if it worked, you wouldn’t care how. I never meant to hurt either of you. Especially not my granddaughter.”

“What else did you do? What’s in the bag? Other than the herbs?” Toby’s questions flew hard and fast around our living room.

“Nothing!” Julia exclaimed, finally registering Toby’s fear. “It’s just dried herbs. I can give you a list of them,” she said. “I’ll take you both to the store where I got them from. It’s a sweet little apothecary next to my dentist. It’s a store all about natural wellness.”

“You could have just told us,” I found myself saying. “How we can trust anything you do now? How do we know if our baby is a miracle baby or just an outcome of your herbs?”

“Does that matter?” she asked, her eyes brimming with tears. “Maddie is here and she’s ours.”

I couldn’t exactly argue with that. Of course, Maddie was ours. I was just feeling wounded that Julia had done this and not told me. I also felt obligated to be angry with her – because my husband was livid.

“I’m sorry,” my mother-in-law whispered. “I really am.”

At her words, I felt Toby soften next to me.

“We need to start over, Mom,” he said. “If you plan on doing anything like this again, you have to tell us first. We need to know what’s going on in our own homes.”

Julia nodded and smiled at us. She seemed shaken that we had discovered the truth.

I was confused – there was a part of me that was eternally grateful to her because I know how difficult it was for us to get pregnant. But at the same time, how could sleeping on a bunch of herbs actually help us get pregnant?

Toby spent the rest of the day looking for mattresses online, while Julia baked us a tart for lunch. I just reveled in spending time with my daughter.

What do you think? Do you believe in natural remedies and old wives tales?

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