My FIL Got Rid of My Beloved Flower Garden And Dug a Pool for Himself without Permission, But KARMA Hit Him Back Harshly

When my father-in-law Richard bulldozed my beloved garden to make way for a pool we never agreed on, I was furious. But as they say, karma has its own sense of timing—and what followed turned his backyard dream into a full-blown disaster.

I’m Linda, a 40-year-old high school English teacher. I’ve been married to Tom for 15 years, and we’ve built a calm, happy life together. Things got complicated two years ago when Richard moved in after my mother-in-law passed away. Let’s just say… he’s not the easiest man to live with. Richard has an opinion on everything and believes he knows best—especially when no one’s asking.

Tom and I don’t have children, so I’d poured my heart into our backyard garden. It became my sanctuary: neat rows of vibrant flowers, hand-grown from seed, bordered by a perfectly kept lawn. Gardening gave me peace after long days of wrangling teenagers at school.

But Richard? He saw it as wasted space.

One evening after dinner, he cleared his throat in that way that meant trouble. “I’ve been thinking. We should put a pool in the backyard.”

I nearly spit out my drink. “A pool? Where exactly do you plan on fitting that, Richard?”

He waved off my concerns like dust. “We’ll make it fit. I get bored when you two are gone. It’d be nice to have a pool. My friends would love it.”

Tom tried to reason with him. “Dad, Linda’s garden is important to her. It’s taken years to build. Plus, a pool’s a major investment.”

But Richard wouldn’t drop it. For weeks, he made comments, suggested ideas, tried to sell us on the dream of pool parties and afternoon dips. I stood firm: “No. I’m not tearing up my garden for a pool.”

I thought that ended the discussion.

I was wrong.

One weekend, Tom and I went to visit my parents. We returned Sunday evening to chaos. The front yard was torn up, mud tracked across the driveway, and then we saw it—the backyard. My garden had been demolished. Flowers gone. Lawn shredded. In the center, a massive hole. And standing beside it, grinning, was Richard.

“Surprise!” he said proudly. “I got the pool started. No need to thank me.”

Tom exploded. “Dad, what were you thinking? We said no!”

Richard just shrugged. “You’ll see. You’ll thank me later.”

I was speechless. My garden—years of love, sweat, and quiet joy—destroyed in a weekend.

Tom comforted me and promised to make it right. “I’ll stop the work. I’ll hire someone to fix the garden. Just don’t worry.”

But the next morning, the diggers were back. That’s when karma arrived—right on cue.

Our neighbor, Mrs. Jensen, happened to be walking her dog, Buster. She and Richard had never seen eye to eye, and she was known for knowing every building code in the city.

She walked right up to Richard and smiled sweetly. “Did you know there are strict rules about how close you can dig to a property line?”

Richard rolled his eyes. “I know what I’m doing.”

Her grin widened. “Good. I’ll just give the city inspector a call and ask what he thinks.”

An hour later, a city official was standing in our yard, clipboard in hand. “This is a violation,” he said bluntly. “You’re too close to the property line. And you don’t have permits. You’ll need to fill this in immediately—and expect a fine.”

Richard turned beet red. “But—”

“No exceptions,” the inspector said. “And I suggest you repair the damage promptly.”

But karma wasn’t finished. As the contractors began filling in the hole, they hit an old water pipe. A loud crack, followed by a gushing flood. Within minutes, the entire yard turned into a swamp. Richard, in his favorite suit, tried to intervene—and slipped face-first into the mud.

Tom and I stood on the porch watching in silence as Richard flailed around, soaked, furious, and humiliated.

In the end, Richard was forced to pay for everything—the fine, the pipe repair, the cleanup, and the cost of restoring the yard. His enthusiasm for home improvement projects vanished overnight. Now he spends most days quietly in his room. Just hearing the word “pool” is enough to make him leave the room without a word.

As for my garden, it took time, but I brought it back to life. Every flower I replant feels like a personal triumph. And Mrs. Jensen? She’s now a cherished friend. Every time she sees me pruning roses, she winks and says, “Any unauthorized construction today?”

Tom and I now tell the story at every dinner party. “Have we told you about the time Richard tried to build a pool?” Tom says, and everyone leans in.

Looking back, I’m strangely grateful for the chaos. It reminded us of the value of respect, boundaries, and how far we’ll go to protect what matters. And if you ever find yourself dealing with a stubborn family member who thinks rules don’t apply to them—just remember, karma knows how to make a splash.