The Blue Shampoo Revenge: A Step-Sibling Showdown
My stepsister doesn’t have a job, and honestly, she’s always had this habit of using whatever she wants without asking. Recently, I started noticing that she was sneaking into my bathroom and using my expensive shampoo—the one I saved up for months to buy. I politely asked her to stop.
That’s when my stepmom barged into my room like a hurricane. “You are so petty and selfish!” she yelled. I blinked, flabbergasted, because I was literally asking her to respect my stuff. But no, apparently asking politely was now a crime.
So I did what any slightly petty person might do: I added a few drops of blue food coloring to my shampoo bottle. Not enough to ruin her hair or make it unsafe—just enough that if she used it consistently, her hair would pick up a faint bluish tint over time. It was petty, yes. But hey, if they were going to call me selfish, I figured I might as well embrace the title… subtly.
Two days later, chaos erupted. My stepsister was stomping through the house, waving her hands like she was casting spells, yelling, “My hair has a weird bluish tone! What is happening?!” I nearly choked on my cereal. She blamed the water. My stepmom blamed the shower filter. No one suspected the shampoo. I was quietly snickering in the corner, trying not to laugh out loud.
I was ready to let it go, thinking they’d eventually buy their own shampoo once mine “went bad.” But apparently, patience is not my stepmom’s strong suit. That afternoon, she stormed into my room, holding my shampoo bottle like it was evidence in a crime show.
“Explain this!” she demanded, eyes wide.
I put on my best innocent face. “I… I don’t know. Maybe it changed color on its own?”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Changed color? In two days? Really convenient.”
Before I could even breathe, my stepsister burst in, now sporting an unmistakable bluish tint in her hair. “It’s YOU!” she shrieked, pointing a finger like a judge delivering a guilty verdict. “You did this!”
Caught red-handed, I paused, calculating my next move. Denying it would be pointless—they’d see through it. So I took a deep breath and owned it. “Okay… maybe I did a tiny, harmless thing,” I admitted, trying to keep my tone casual. “But seriously, you could’ve just asked instead of using my stuff. This could’ve been avoided.”
There was a tense pause. My stepmom blinked, exhaled dramatically, and said, “Fine. Lesson learned. But next time, handle conflicts like a normal person instead of… this little sabotage.”
My stepsister, meanwhile, looked furious but also embarrassed. She avoided my bathroom for the next few days and, after some awkward discussions, even went out and bought her own shampoo.
And me? I felt vindicated. Petty? Absolutely. Effective? You bet. And I got to enjoy watching them both squirm while I quietly poured myself another cup of cereal.
The moral of the story? Sometimes, a little harmless mischief goes a long way—especially when you’ve been called selfish for asking people to respect your stuff.