My wife Karol was seven months pregnant when we found ourselves stuck in a long grocery line. Suddenly, a man bulldozed into our cart — and her — barking, “Step off, I’m in a rush!” My blood boiled, but Karol grabbed my arm and whispered, “Just watch.” I had no idea what she meant, but I trusted her.

We stood back as he smugly paid and strutted toward the exit. Right then, the security alarm blared. Two guards stopped him, and his confidence vanished. I turned to Karol in shock. She was already smirking, as if she had seen it coming all along.

She grinned. “While he was busy being rude, I slipped a security tag into his pocket. A little goodbye gift.” I couldn’t stop laughing — she’d just served him a dose of instant karma. My wife had nerves of steel and a sense of justice sharper than mine.

That day, I realized my wife was not only the love of my life but also the queen of poetic justice. Sometimes, karma needs a gentle nudge — and Karol delivered it flawlessly. I couldn’t have been prouder to stand beside her.