Hey there! I’m Phoebe, but you can call me Pippi. Let me introduce you to my dad, Pete: a ruggedly handsome plumber with hands that tell stories of hard work. He’s my superhero without the cape.

Dad treats every job like it’s his own home, but some people think they can take advantage of him. Enter the Carlyles, a pair of entitled homeowners who thought they could outsmart him.

One day, I found Dad on the patio, chuckling like he’d just heard the world’s funniest joke. “What’s got you in such a good mood?” I asked, curious.

“Oh, Pippi, you won’t believe what just happened. It’s a doozy!” He leaned in, eyes twinkling. “Remember that bathroom remodel I was working on? Well, let me tell you about the Carlyles—what I like to call ‘the Pinchpennies.’”

As he began his story, I settled in, knowing it would be good. “They wanted the works: new tiles, fancy fixtures, you name it. They even chose where to put the toilet paper holder!”

“Sounds like a dream job,” I said.

“It started that way,” he replied. “But then, on the last day, while I was finishing up, they decided to pull a fast one on me.”

Dad mimicked Mrs. Carlyle’s whiny tone: “Oh, Pete, this isn’t what we wanted at all! These tiles are all wrong!”

“But they picked everything!” I exclaimed.

“Exactly! Then they had the nerve to say they were only going to pay half. HALF!” Dad’s voice rose in disbelief.

“No way! What did you do?” I asked, feeling anger rise.

“I tried reasoning with them, but Mr. Carlyle puffed up, saying, ‘Finish the job and GET LOST, Pete. We’re not paying a penny more.’”

I couldn’t believe it. “That’s so unfair!”

“Don’t you worry, Pippi. I had a trick up my sleeve,” Dad said, grinning.

“What did you do?” I leaned in, eager for the scoop.

“I finished the job, alright. But instead of water for the grout…” he paused for effect, “I mixed it with sugar and honey.”

“Wait, what? Why?” I blinked, processing this.

“Just you wait and see,” he said, taking a drag on his cigar.

Dad explained how he packed up his tools, pocketed half the payment, and left, fully aware of what would happen next.

“But wouldn’t they notice something off?” I asked.

“Nah, not right away. It looked fine when it dried. But a few weeks later…” His eyes sparkled.

“What happened?” I was all ears.

“Picture this: Mrs. Carlyle goes to take a shower, and what does she see? Ants! Dozens of ’em marching along the grout lines!”

I burst out laughing. “No way!”

“Oh, it gets better! The next day, cockroaches showed up, and soon every creepy-crawly was at their party!”

“How do you know all this?” I asked, intrigued.

“Remember Johnny, my neighbor? He’s the Carlyles’ next-door neighbor and kept me updated.”

“And the Carlyles? What did they do?”

“They tried everything—spent a fortune on pest control, but nothing worked! And the best part? They blamed the pest control for ruining the grout!” Dad roared with laughter.

I couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for the Carlyles. “But don’t you think that’s harsh?”

“Pippi, they tried to cheat me out of hard-earned money. Two weeks of backbreaking work, and they wanted to pay me half?” His expression softened. “In this business, your reputation is everything. If I let clients walk all over me, I’d be out of business.”

I nodded slowly. “I get it. So what happened next?”

“They ended up redoing the whole bathroom about a year later,” he said, a hint of mischief in his smile.

“Did that solve the problem?” I asked.

“Nope! The sugar residue was still there, and the bugs just kept coming back. Last I heard, they were talking about selling the house.”

“Wow, that’s long-lasting revenge!”

Dad sighed, his face serious. “Maybe it went on longer than I intended. But you know what they say about karma.”

“Yeah, it’s a real… well, you know,” I chuckled.

As the sun began to set, I sat back, reflecting on Dad’s story. “You know, Dad, that’s pretty genius. Diabolical, but genius.”

“Sometimes you gotta teach people a lesson they won’t forget,” he said, satisfied.

I laughed. “I bet the Carlyles won’t be trying to stiff anyone on their bill again.”

“You got that right,” Dad chuckled.

As we watched the sunset, I thought about the Carlyles and their bug-infested bathroom. Sometimes, karma really does come with six legs and a sweet tooth!