Entitled Mom on the Flight Broke My Daughter’s iPad, She Regretted It Sooner Than I Could Have Imagined

An entitled mom thought smashing my daughter’s iPad would end her son’s tantrums. But what happened next left her in a panic she never saw coming. Karma works fast, even at 30,000 feet!

I’m Bethany, 35, and I had no idea a two-hour flight could turn into such a whirlwind. My five-year-old daughter, Ella, was happily watching cartoons on her iPad as we settled in for takeoff, headphones on, completely content.

“You comfy, sweetheart?” I asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Ella nodded, her eyes glued to the screen. “Can I have juice later?”

“Of course,” I smiled. “Just let me know when you’re thirsty.”

As I reached for my book, I noticed a family of three across the aisle. Their son, around Ella’s age, was already fidgeting and whining.

“I’m bored!” he groaned, kicking the seat in front of him.

His mom tried to calm him. “Remember, no screens this trip. Be a good boy.”

His eyes locked on Ella’s iPad, and I had a feeling this flight was about to get a lot longer.

About 20 minutes in, the mom leaned over with a tight smile. “Hi, I noticed your daughter’s iPad. We’ve decided to keep screens away from our son this vacation, and it’s upsetting him. Would you mind putting it away?”

I blinked, surprised by her boldness. “Excuse me?”

“It’s not fair to him,” she repeated.

I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but my daughter is using it to stay calm during the flight.”

Her smile faded. “Wow, really? You’d rather ruin our trip than give your daughter a break from the screen?”

“She’s quietly minding her own business,” I replied. “Maybe your son could do the same if you brought something to entertain him.”

The woman huffed and glared, but I turned back to my book, determined to ignore her. As her son’s tantrums escalated, the dirty looks continued.

“I want that!” he screamed, pointing at Ella’s iPad. His mom leaned in, whispering, “I know, sweetie. Some people are just selfish.”

I tried to block out the chaos, focusing on my book, while Ella, blissfully unaware, continued watching her show.

Then it happened. In one swift motion, the entitled mom knocked into Ella’s tray, sending the iPad crashing to the floor. The screen shattered on impact.

Ella’s heartbreaking scream filled the cabin. “Mommy, my iPad!”

The woman gasped, feigning shock. “Oh no! What a clumsy accident!” But the smug look on her face told me otherwise. “Maybe it’s a sign your daughter needs less screen time,” she added.

I was furious, ready to respond when a flight attendant arrived. The entitled mom immediately played the victim. “It was a terrible accident!”

The attendant offered sympathy but explained there wasn’t much to be done mid-flight. I comforted Ella, but karma wasn’t finished yet.

With no iPad to distract him, the boy’s tantrums worsened. He kicked seats, pulled trays, and whined louder, while his mom’s attempts to calm him failed miserably.

“Sweetie, please stop,” she begged.

“I’m bored! This is the worst trip ever!”

Meanwhile, Ella tugged my sleeve, still upset. “Mommy, can you fix it?”

I hugged her. “We’ll get it fixed when we land. How about we read a book together?”

As I grabbed her storybook, more chaos unfolded across the aisle. The boy knocked over his mom’s coffee in frustration, soaking her lap and spilling into her open handbag.

To make matters worse, her passport slid out and landed on the floor—right under her son’s foot. Before she could grab it, he stepped on it, grinding it into the coffee-soaked carpet.

Her face turned to sheer panic. She grabbed the passport, but it was ruined—soaked and warped beyond repair.

The flight attendant returned, warning her that a damaged passport could cause trouble at customs, especially since they had a connecting flight to Paris. The mom’s panic deepened as she frantically tried to clean up the mess.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but feel a touch of satisfaction. Karma had worked its magic. As the plane began its descent, Ella was calm, flipping through her book, her earlier distress forgotten.

“Mommy, can we bake cupcakes when we get home?” she asked with a smile.

“Of course, and maybe some cookies too,” I replied, grateful for the reminder that sometimes, the universe has its way of balancing things out.

As we exited the plane, I glanced back at the frazzled mom, clutching her ruined passport. Turns out, Ella’s iPad wasn’t the only thing broken on that flight.