I Caught My Sister Running a Scam. She Was Using the Gifts I Gave Our Mom

My sister has come up with a brilliant little scheme. She begs our mom for things I've given as gifts—practically in tears about how she's always wanted this exact item, how desperately she needs it, how she's just too broke to afford it herself. And when Mom caves and hands it over? My sister sells it online. She doesn't even feel bad about it. In her mind, she's completely justified—after all, she has a child to raise and life is so hard.

My sister Ashley has always been cunning, lazy, and envious. These traits showed up early in childhood, and whatever people say about "environment shaping character," Ashley's personality came factory-installed. Neither Mom, Dad, nor I ever acted that way. I'm no angel, but family is sacred to me. For Ashley? Scamming her own relatives is as easy as breathing.

We never got along growing up. I was the older one, expected to watch her, but honestly? I preferred standing in the corner as punishment. That was better than babysitting a kid who'd pinch and hit me when no one was looking, then run crying to Mom the second I defended myself.

In school, she spied on me constantly and reported everything to our parents—often with creative embellishments. She'd humiliate me in front of my friends whenever she got the chance. Basically, she did everything in her power to earn the "Worst Little Sister of the Century" award. When I left for college, I didn't miss her at all. I missed Mom and Dad. I missed our cat. But Ashley? Not one bit.

I'm thirty-two now. I have a husband and a six-year-old. We recently bought a modest three-bedroom house with a manageable mortgage. Before that, we had a small condo that we'd paid off, sold it, added some savings, and upgraded. Nothing fancy, just smart planning.

Ashley got married three years ago after a pregnancy test came back positive. Turned out later the test was wrong—or she lied. Either way, no baby. They almost divorced, but then she actually got pregnant. Divorce postponed.

They lived with her mother-in-law at first, but that didn't last. Eventually, the MIL gave her son an ultimatum: her or Ashley. He chose Ashley, and they moved into a rental. Right around that time, we were selling our old condo, and Ashley started pushing—through Mom, of course—for us to sell it to them.

We might have considered it, except they had no money. They wanted some kind of forever payment plan with no down payment. That wasn't going to work for us. We needed the cash upfront to put toward our new house.

Ashley threw a fit and demanded our parents "make" me help her. After all, she was pregnant! She needed support! But my parents didn't pressure me. They couldn't have anyway. I solved my own housing problems; Ashley and her husband could figure out theirs.

So they stayed in their rental, and Ashley stopped speaking to me. Honestly? I was relieved. One less headache.

We don't even do holidays together anymore. My parents visit us separately, then visit them separately. Keeps the peace. Works for everyone.

Now, about those gifts. I've always tried to give my parents nice things—quality stuff. A stand mixer for Mom, a good espresso machine, kitchen gadgets, jewelry. It adds up, but my husband and I don't cheap out on our parents.

Lately, though, I started noticing things were missing from their house. I figured Mom just stored them somewhere. But a few weeks ago, I was over there making tamales with her, and I couldn't find the meat grinder I'd bought her last Christmas. When I asked, she said Ashley had "borrowed" it.

That set off alarm bells.

I started looking around. The KitchenAid mixer? Gone. The Instant Pot? Gone. The fancy blender? You guessed it—gone.

Apparently, Ashley had been calling Mom, voice trembling, going on about how she'd dreamed of having these things her whole life but just couldn't afford them. You know, because they're so poor. And what's Mom supposed to do? Say no to her struggling daughter?

So Mom handed everything over. "Just temporarily," she assured me. But we both know "temporarily" means forever.

I was annoyed, but I didn't say anything to Mom. She already felt bad, and I didn't want to make it worse or start a fight.

But then I found out what Ashley was actually doing with those "borrowed" items.

I was listing some old stuff on Facebook Marketplace and browsing similar items to price mine. That's when I saw it—a KitchenAid mixer, same model and color I'd given Mom. Listed as "like new" for nearly retail price.

I clicked on the seller's profile.

Ashley.

Suddenly it all made sense. Her newfound passion for "homemaking." The constant requests. She wasn't building a kitchen—she was running a resale business using my gifts.

I called her. Asked if she felt any shame at all about lying to Mom and selling things that weren't hers.

First, she denied everything. Then she claimed Mom had asked her to sell them. But when I threatened to call Mom and verify, she exploded.

According to her, this was all my fault. They're paying so much rent because they don't own a home—and whose fault is that? She has a child to raise, her husband is useless, and I'm "rich," so what do I care? If Mom gave her those things willingly, then clearly Mom didn't need them.

And there it was. Her whole twisted logic, laid bare.

I haven't told Mom yet. But I've made a decision: from now on, I'm only giving her gifts that Ashley can't get her hands on. Experiences. Trips. Spa days. Restaurant gift cards with Mom's name on them.

It'll take some creativity. But I'll figure it out.

Because if there's one thing I've learned, it's that you can't out-scheme a schemer. You just have to stop playing their game.