Our Granddaughter Called Us Stingy Because of Her Wedding Gift from Us

This time, we sent an air fryer to our youngest granddaughter, the cheapest thing on her registry. Eloise called us, livid, accusing us of being cheap. I remember picking up her call and she didn’t even say hi, she just started ranting, “Seriously, Grandma? I just got your gift. An air fryer? That’s the cheapest thing you could find on my registry!”

I was taken aback because as much as the air fryer was the cheapest on their registry, I still thought it’d be useful to them, so I told her that. Eloise kept on complaining, “Useful? Come on, you know you can do better than that. Everyone knows you have the money. I just can’t believe you’d be this cheap with me. It’s embarrassing.”

In this heated moment, I told her, “Yes, you’re right. We are cheap, old, and useless. The only thing you DIDN’T know is that the day before the wedding, we were going to gift you a check for $40,000.”

I revealed this in an attempt to explain to Eloise about the cash gift we usually give our grandkids before the wedding but she was so angry at this point, that she wasn’t listening to a thing I said. I speculated that maybe she didn’t believe we would gift her such an amount of money after only buying her an air fryer.

Eventually, she said, “No, it’s clear. You just don’t love me enough to show it. You know how much pressure I’m under with the wedding. And then, this? It’s like you don’t even care,” then she hung up.

Despite my husband and I’s shock at Eloise’s reaction, we then bought her a China set, hoping to appease her, but decided against giving her the $40,000, feeling she hadn’t earned it.

Fast forward to last week. Eloise talked to her brother and found out that we were telling her the truth about the money. After confirming it with her cousins, she, called again, accusing us of discrimination, “I just found out that it’s true you gave the money to everyone else when they got married. Why didn’t I get anything?”

We stood firm, explaining our stance was due to her initial reaction, “We felt after your reaction to the wedding gift, it wasn’t right to go ahead and gift you the money.” Eloise pleaded trying to convince us otherwise, “So, you’re punishing me? Is that it? Because I was upset about an air fryer?”

I was angry that she didn’t even understand what she did wrong. “It wasn’t about the air fryer, Eloise. It was how you spoke to us, the disrespect. That’s not something we expected or can support,” I explained.

Eloise implored us, nearly in tears, “But that’s so unfair! I was stressed, Grandma. Planning a wedding is hard, and I just snapped. I didn’t mean any of it.” I felt like she should have only apologized to us instead of finding excuses to justify her behavior.

However, I told her, “We understand that it’s a stressful time, but actions and words have consequences. We hoped you’d understand the value of family and love over material things.” Full of desperation, Eloise added, “But you don’t understand! Can’t we just forget all this happened? I need that money, Grandma.”

She pleaded, threatened to boycott Christmas, and accused us of cutting her off but we didn’t budge. In the end, I expressed, “We love you very much. This has nothing to do with cutting you off. We just hope you’ll reflect on this and understand why we made our decision.”

Now, Eloise has followed up on her threat and she’s boycotting Christmas. Her mother, who is our daughter-in-law, is siding with her, calling us unreasonable. However, we feel that after all we have done for Eloise, the air fryer gift, shouldn’t have triggered this reaction.

For context, we had already paid for her college, and her parents covered her graduate school and half the wedding. Additionally, she and her husband are financially comfortable and do not desperately need our money.

We’re also not upset with our grandkids for revealing the cash gift since she is among the group of family members who are allowed to know about it. Our reason for sending the air fryer earlier was that we live far away, so we always send our gifts early.

The wedding gift is also separate from the money, which we give with the hope it will be used for something significant, like a home. Now, we feel like the action we took towards Eloise was well deserved and we are not going back on our decisions even if she and her mom threaten to do their worst.

Despite the tumultuous events and Eloise’s refusal to understand our perspective, my husband and I stand by our decision. Love and respect in our family are paramount, and we hoped this situation would be a learning experience for her.

The holidays might be quieter this year with her family’s absence, but our hope is for healing and understanding in the future. Our door and hearts remain open to Eloise, whenever she’s ready to mend fences.

Want more like this? Click here to read about a grandmother who sparked controversy online because she doesn’t bring her grandchildren gifts when she visits.

My Neighbor Totally Ruined My Windows with Paint after I Refused to Pay $2,000 for Her Dog’s Treatment

An increasingly heated argument starts when Julia declines to pay her neighbor $2000 for a small dog accident. Julia is dealing with family issues and navigating the chaos as tensions grow. But Julia loses it and plans some heinous retaliation after her neighbor paints over her windows.

Allow me to share with you the story of the moment I nearly went insane while residing in a quiet suburban neighborhood.

I’m Julia, and I shared this sweet small home with my husband Roger and our ten-year-old son Dean for more than 10 years.

As long as you disregarded the ongoing concern for Roger’s well-being, everything was fairly wonderful. However, when Linda moved in next door, everything was different.

Linda. The mere thought of her makes my blood boil. We never got along from the day she came in with her golden retriever, Max.

At first, it was simply small things, like her loud music or the fact that she allowed Max go anywhere he wished, nothing serious. However, things took a bad turn one sunny afternoon.

Max came running over to me while I was cutting my roses in my backyard, wagging his tail like he owned the place. Really sweet dog, but intrigued. He took in certain scents, and before I knew it, he yelled.

The poor creature has a little thorn embedded in his paw. I bent down, comforted him, and carefully pulled the thorn out. I patted Max’s head after he licked my fingers.

I accompanied him back to Linda’s, perhaps anticipating a thank you. Rather, she merely stood there, frowning and with her arms crossed.

Why does my dog have a limp? How did you act? She lost her temper.

“He simply trod on a small thorn,” I retorted, attempting to remain composed. “I removed it, and he seems OK.”

She gave a huff, and I assumed that was it. How incorrect I was!

One morning, I discovered a message affixed to my door. “You owe me $2000 for Max’s treatment,” it said.

I was astounded as I stared at it. Two thousand dollars? For what purpose? The dog only received a small cut. I made the decision to visit and make everything clear.

Linda, what’s the deal? I asked, pointing to the message.

Her tone was cold as she continued, “That’s for Max’s vet bill.” “That thorn caused him pain all through the night.”

“I apologize, but that is absurd,” I answered. “As a gesture of goodwill, I’ll give you $100, but two thousand is out of the question.”

Linda squinted her eyes. “You’ll regret it or you pay up.”

Linda turned my life into a living misery the moment she met me.

A woman standing in a quiet suburban street | Source: Midjourney

Every time she drove by, she would flip me off, honk, and tip over my trash cans. Her attempt to have Dean arrested was the worst. Dean, my sweet, naive boy, was simply riding a minibike like all the other kids in the area.

I was enjoying a cup of tea on the veranda one afternoon when I heard Linda’s car horn familiarly screaming. Glaring at Dean, who was playing in the driveway, I looked up.

She said, “Get that brat off that bike before I call the cops!”

“Linda, these are only children!” Feeling my patience wane, I yelled back.

She shot back, “Your kid is a menace, and if you don’t do something about it, I will.”

I was unable to yell, weep, or take action, even though I wanted to. Since Roger was back in the hospital, I was already overburdened with trying to keep things together. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at Dean.

I kindly murmured, “Come inside, honey.” “We’ll switch up the game.”

With tears in his eyes, Dean argued, “But Mom, I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I understand, my love. Simply put, it’s complicated.

I made an effort to ignore Linda’s shenanigans and concentrate on Roger and Dean. However, it felt as though a ticking time bomb was nearby. I was always afraid of what she might do next. Finally, she pushed me over the edge.

I got the call in the afternoon of a Sunday. Roger’s condition had gotten worse, and I had to head to the hospital right away.

After gathering our belongings, I dropped Dean off at my mother’s house and hurried to the hospital.

I stayed by Roger’s side for two excruciating days, not eating or sleeping, my mind racing with worry and tiredness.

Upon my return, all I wanted was a little break, an opportunity to regain my composure.

Upon walking up my driveway, I discovered that my house had been turned into a nightmare for graffiti artists. Paint in the colors red and yellow spattered my windows, dripping in unkempt streaks.

Paint splattered on a house | Source: Midjourney

My house appeared to have been attempted to be converted into a circus tent. And there it was, Linda’s note “Just to make your days brighter!” sitting on the doorstep!

A house covered with paint splatters | Source: Midjourney

I was shaking with fury as I stood there, my fatigue from the previous two days melting away in the fire of my fury. That was it. This was the tipping moment.

I clinched my teeth and whispered, “Dean, go inside.”

“But Mom, what took place?” His eyes wide with terror and perplexity, he questioned.

I said it again, softly this time, attempting to maintain my composure. “Just go inside, honey.”

Dean gave a nod and rushed inside, leaving me to harbor my rage on my own.

With my thoughts racing, I crumpled Linda’s paper in my hand. It had to end. Linda was going to get a war if that was her desire.

I took a drive to the hardware shop that afternoon. I strolled through the aisles, my rage melting into a detached, analytical concentration. When I saw the Japanese Beetle traps, a strategy started to take shape.

I purchased multiple packets of the beetle-attracting smell lures and traps. I put the aroma packets in the freezer as soon as I came home. The wax would be easier to work with in the cold. Anxiety mixed with excitement caused my heart to race. This needed to function.

I slipped into Linda’s yard at three in the morning while the neighborhood was silent due to the darkness.

I had the impression of a figure from one of Roger’s favorite spy films. My heart leaped at the sound of every distant leaf rustle. However, I was adamant. I hid the smell packets behind the layers of mulch in Linda’s well-kept flower beds.

By the time I was done, the first rays of morning were appearing.

I crept back inside my house, feeling my heartbeat finally begin to settle down. Despite being tired, I felt a sense of somber fulfillment as I got into bed. It was now a matter of waiting.

When I looked out my window the following afternoon, I noticed swarms of Japanese beetles descending on Linda’s garden. They were glinting in the sunlight. It was functioning.

Her lovely flower gardens were completely destroyed over the course of the following few days, the once-vibrant blossoms reduced to frayed remains.

Allow me to correct the information. Hi there, my name is Linda, and I came to this area in search of solitude.

My golden dog, Max, went into Julia’s yard by mistake and snagged a thorn in his paw, shattering that fantasy. She pulled it out as if she were doing me a favor, rather than just giving it back to him.

I asked Julia to pay Max’s vet bill the following day.

A dog lying on a sofa | Source: Pexels

He was in discomfort and walking with a limp all night. However, she was so bold as to offer me just $100 rather than the $2000 it would have cost. I told her she would regret not paying up after our argument. Things didn’t seem to be getting out of control.

Yes, I did, a couple times knocked over her trash cans and honked as I went past, to let her know I wasn’t going to back down. However, Julia painted myself as the bad guy.

I didn’t know things had gotten out of hand until insects decimated my garden.

I was like a crazy woman, rushing around my yard. When I was picking away dead flowers on the third day, I noticed something strange hidden in the mulch. When I saw that it was a piece of plastic packaging—part of a Japanese beetle trap—my heart fell.

Someone had intentionally done this. And I knew who it was, very well.

My wrath blazing, I stormed straight to Julia’s house. I knocked on her door, presenting the proof that implicated her.

“Julia! Let yourself in!” I yelled, fury trembling in my voice.

Appearing composed as ever, she unlocked the door. “What’s going on, Linda?”

“You know what you did to my garden?” I threw the plastic fragment towards her. This was discovered in my flower bed. Yes, you did this, right?

Although Julia maintained a neutral expression, there was a hint of something—guilt, perhaps—in her eyes. “Lucina, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t tell me lies!” I let out a cry. “You destroyed my yard! Why would you act in this manner?

A wail sounded from within the home before she could respond. When I looked behind Julia, I noticed Dean, her son, seated on the floor with tears running down his face.

“Is Dad going to pass away, Mom?” With his tiny voice breaking, Dean cried.

Julia looked past me, her expression softening as she turned to greet her son. “No, sweetheart, everything will be OK. The medical professionals are exerting every effort.

I watched this scene play out while freezing in place. My rage seemed so trivial now.

A boy wiping his tears | Source: Pexels

Julia was more than simply my obnoxious neighbor; she was a mother taking care of her sick husband and her afraid child.

“Julia, I.” I opened my mouth, but my words stumbled. How do I put it? I hadn’t paused to think about what she might be going through since I was so overwhelmed by my rage.

With a look of fatigue on her face, Julia turned to face me. “Linda, I apologize for your garden. However, I didn’t do it. I can’t handle this anymore, let alone caring about your flowers.

My fight was gone from me. “I apologize too,” I said. “I had no idea that things were so horrible for you.”

She gave a nod, remaining silent. I recoiled, embarrassed by my own foolishness. How could it have gotten so out of control?

That being said, I kept to myself. I realized that Julia had enough on her plate and put an end to the small-time harassing. My garden recovered slowly, and although Julia and I never became friends, we were able to live in harmony together.

I still think about that period of time years later. Sometimes, in order to understand what others are going through, you have to look past your own problems. Even though Julia and I have remained estranged neighbors, we have a silent respect for one another that was developed through hardship.

Though it has been romanticized for artistic purposes, this work draws inspiration from actual individuals and events. For reasons of privacy protection and story improvement, names, characters, and details have been changed. Any likeness to real people, alive or dead, or real events is entirely accidental and not the author’s intention.

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