Grandma just wanted a quiet dinner to celebrate her birthday, but our family insisted on going all out. But they didn’t just hijack her birthday, they abandoned her at the table when the bill arrived! Nobody messes with my Grandma, not even family!
My grandma always has fresh-baked cookies ready, never forgets a birthday, and somehow makes every family gathering feel like home. If anyone deserved the perfect birthday dinner, it was her.
An elderly woman packing away cookies | Source: Midjourney
So when she mentioned she’d love to have “just a small dinner out this year,” I was all in.
She’s 85 this year, and it’s a big deal. A quiet evening with good food and her favorite people? Done. But of course, the rest of the family had other plans.
“Grandma deserves something spectacular,” Aunt Linda had announced on our family group chat. “Not some boring little dinner.”
Then the check came.
Grandma had just gone to the restroom, and right on cue, the act began.
“Ohhhh wow,” Aunt Linda said, staring at the bill like it was written in a foreign language. “Look at that total… I’d help, but you know, we’re still paying off that time-share from two summers ago.”
“We all just figured you’d cover this one, Jade. You’re almost done paying off your house, right? And you’ve got the best job out of all of us. You know how to make things happen. We’ll support you… emotionally.”
And then Aunt Linda had the audacity to throw in a guilt trip.
“And come on… it’s for Grandma. It’s her big day. We might not have many more of these left, you know.”
A woman speaking on her cell phone | Source: Midjourney
And next year? Me and Grandma are celebrating her birthday somewhere very nice and quiet. Just the two of us.
And I’m leaving my phone on silent.
Here’s another story: While reading to her blind grandfather, 12-year-old Sophie finds an old letter hidden in the pages of a forgotten book, one he never dared to read. As she reads the heartbreaking truth inside, she unearths a love story lost to time — and a secret that could change everything.
