My DIL Returned My Car Totaled after a Trip to Her Friend — She Refused to Pay for the Damages, So I Taught Her a Lesson

I thought lending my car to my daughter-in-law would be a chance to mend our strained relationship. Instead, she returned it damaged and tried to cover it up with lies, refusing to take responsibility for the mess. What I did next left her stunned and helpless.

I’m a 60-year-old woman living alone since my husband passed away five years ago. Nathan lost a hard battle with cancer, and there wasn’t much we could’ve done to save him. I still remember his words the day before he passed, as he held my hand. “Jennifer, always look after Toby,” he said. “I know he’s 30 and can take care of himself, but he’s sensitive and will need his mother’s support.”

Nathan was right. After his death, Toby needed me. We would sit together, reminiscing about how Nathan used to take us to his favorite restaurant and make us laugh. We’d laugh, then cry, processing the heartbreaking reality that we’d never see him again. It was part of the healing process, but things shifted when Toby found someone new—someone who would eventually pull him away from me.

About a year after Nathan’s passing, Toby introduced me to Layla, a beautiful woman he’d met at work. She seemed perfect: well-dressed, polite, and charming, leaving a great first impression. “Hi, Jennifer!” she greeted me with a warm hug. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” I smiled, taken aback by how lovely she seemed. “You look wonderful, Layla!”

At that moment, I had no idea that this seemingly sweet woman would later wedge herself between my son and me.

Toby and Layla got married just six months after we first met. I was thrilled for him, proud to see my son start a new chapter in his life. I remember weeping through his vows, feeling both joy and sadness as I watched him grow into his own.

Not long after the wedding, Toby and Layla invited me for lunch at their place, which I thought would be a great opportunity to bond with my new daughter-in-law. I arrived 10 minutes late due to traffic, and to my surprise, Layla immediately made a scene.

“Why are you so late, Jennifer?” she snapped as soon as I walked in. Toby wasn’t anywhere in sight. “I’ve been waiting for you forever!”

“I’m sorry, Layla,” I stammered, taken aback. “It was just 10 minutes.”

“I don’t care if it was 10 minutes or 10 hours,” she said coldly. “You need to be on time when you come to my house.”

Before I could respond, Toby entered the room, greeting me with his usual warmth. “Oh, Mom! You’re here! How are you?”

The moment Toby appeared, Layla’s tone shifted, and she suddenly became sweet and friendly again. I was shocked. She had completely switched her behavior, pretending to be kind in front of him while throwing mean remarks when he wasn’t looking. It became clear that she was trying to make me feel unwelcome.

From that day on, my relationship with Layla deteriorated. Toby, blinded by love, began taking her side in every disagreement. Layla would play the victim, and my poor son always fell for her act, just as his father had always sided with me. But I wasn’t like Layla—I wasn’t pretending.

Then came the day she called me, out of the blue. “Hi, Jen!” she chirped. I was surprised by the sudden casualness.

“Hi, Layla,” I responded cautiously. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” she replied. “I was wondering if I could borrow your car tomorrow. Mine broke down, and the mechanic says it’ll take a few days to fix.”

Borrowing my car for a day didn’t seem like a big deal, and since Toby had suggested it, I agreed. I thought maybe this was an opportunity to improve things between us.

A week later, Layla and Toby returned my car, but when I saw it, I was horrified. It was covered in scratches, dents, and smelled like rotten onions. I confronted Layla, but she lied to my face. “What did I do to your car?” she said, feigning innocence. “It was like this when I borrowed it.”

Toby, of course, sided with her. “Mom, Layla told me the car was already in this condition. She’s not lying.”

I realized arguing would get me nowhere. I had no proof, and Toby’s loyalty to Layla was too strong. But instead of fighting, I decided to teach her a lesson she’d never forget.

That night, I came up with a plan. I made a call to the local pet store and picked up a few items. The next evening, under the cover of darkness, I drove to their house. Armed with animal attractant sprays, I carefully doused their backyard, driveway, and porch. I knew what would happen next.

The following morning, my phone rang—it was Toby, panicking. “Mom, help! The yard is covered in animal waste, and the whole place stinks!”

Feigning concern, I replied, “Oh no! That sounds terrible. I guess that’s what happens when you ruin someone else’s property.”

I’m sure Layla understood my hidden message, but Toby remained oblivious. From that day on, Layla never dared to cross me again. At a family dinner, she kept her distance, and her passive-aggressive remarks vanished.

Meanwhile, Toby started calling me more often, checking in to see how I was doing. My husband Nathan had been right all along. Toby needed me to stand up for myself and draw a line that Layla would never dare cross again.

If you were in my shoes, what would you have done?