When Connie and Jim’s granddaughter, Mae, just got married, they decided to contribute to her honeymoon. But when they reveal their choice of hotel, Mae responds with entitlement, saying that they ruined everything for her. Instead of retaliating, the couple decides to teach her a lesson.
I’ve always been the doting grandmother. It was something that I looked forward to after having my children. I didn’t think that I’d share my story here, but this was too outrageous to keep to myself. This is how my husband, Jim, and I taught our youngest granddaughter a lesson she won’t soon forget.
An elderly couple at the beach | Source: Pexels
Our youngest granddaughter, Mae, is getting married. She’s always been a bit of a princess, expecting the best of everything.
“I’m high maintenance, Gran,” she would tell me, often while painting her nails or doing something of the sort.
A woman painting her nails | Source: Pexels
But because she’s the youngest, Jim and I got to spend the most time with her after we began slowing down with our jobs. So, when her boyfriend, Nathan, proposed, we were cautiously optimistic.
“I don’t think she’s rushing into it,” Jim told me as we sat down to breakfast one morning. “But I just wish that she would wait a little longer, you know, give us time to get involved in the wedding.”
A breakfast setting on a wooden table | Source: Pexels
Jim loved Mae. And despite us having so many other grandchildren, she was definitely his favorite. He would move mountains for her just because she asked.
So, when her wedding rolled around, we were more than happy to oblige when she came to us asking if we could help pay for her honeymoon.
A grandfather and his granddaughter | Source: Pexels
We wanted to give her a memorable gift, and this was the best way we could contribute, knowing that she would love it. And more than that, it would be a lovely way for her to start her new life with Nathan.
“We’ll do what we can,” I told her when she picked me up so that we could go to her final dress fitting together.
A woman driving a car | Source: Pexels
“But really, Gran,” she said enthusiastically. “It’s going to be great! And the fact that you and Grandad are doing it for me, that’s going to make it a lot more special.”
We got into the store and I watched my granddaughter change into her gown.
She looked absolutely stunning. I couldn’t believe that our youngest granddaughter was about to embark on one of the greatest adventures of her life.
A woman in her wedding gown | Source: Midjourney
Afterward, Mae came home with me.
“I’m going off all carbs from next week, Gran,” she said. “But I’d kill for your fried chicken and mashed potatoes.”
“Coming right up, honey,” I said.
Fried chicken on a tray | Source: Unsplash
As she made herself at home, I began to make my way around the kitchen. When Jim got in, Mae pulled out her phone and began scrolling.
“I’ve had some ideas about the honeymoon,” she said, showing us her phone.
“Right!” Jim exclaimed. “Show us what you have in mind.”
A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash
Of course, knowing our granddaughter, it was going to be something lavish.
Mae showed us a luxurious resort in the Caribbean. The place was stunning but incredibly expensive.
“I’m sorry, honey,” Jim told her while I tossed the chicken in the hot oil. “But we just don’t have that kind of money.”
A person eating fried chicken | Source: Pexels
Mae pouted, her eyes wide.
“But don’t fret!” Jim said quickly. “We’ll sort something out.”
I knew that even though Jim wanted to give Mae everything, there was no way that we could get Mae and Nathan to the Caribbean. But he just wouldn’t want to disappoint her.
A wooden deck over water | Source: Pexels
Mae left our home after eating with us, the topic of the honeymoon long forgotten as I did the dishes.
“We can’t afford it, Connie,” Jim told me as he poured himself another glass of juice.
“Then, we have to be open and honest with Mae,” I said. “She knows that we can’t spend a ridiculous amount of money just for her honeymoon. It’s not going to work.”
A person pouring juice | Source: Pexels
“But I can’t disappoint her,” Jim said solemnly. “So, I’m going to look for something with the same aesthetic.”
My husband sat with his laptop for hours. Two cups of tea and hundreds of hotels later, we finally found one that had excellent reviews and was within our budget.
An elderly man using a laptop | Source: Pexels
We booked it and surprised Mae with the news over the phone.
“It’s all sorted! Your honeymoon is all booked and ready to go!” Jim said.
“That’s great, Grandad,” she said. “Send me the links and I’ll look at it in the morning.”
An elderly man on the phone | Source: Pexels
I thought that she seemed grateful, but that didn’t last very long.
The next morning, as I was stirring oatmeal, Mae came over in a rage, her tone dripping with entitlement.
“Grandma, Grandpa,” she said. “I looked up the hotel you booked for Nathan and I. It’s just a joke, right?”
A bowl of oatmeal | Source: Unsplash
Jim and I looked at each other, he frowned slightly.
Mae, on the other hand, continued to speak through the silence.
“This place is a dump compared to what I showed you. Why would you choose such a disgusting hotel? Are you really trying to ruin my honeymoon?”
An elderly man covering his mouth | Source: Pexels
I was completely taken aback by Mae. Yes, she was spoiled. But she hadn’t been raised like this at all.
We had spent a lot of time finding a nice place and spent a significant amount of money on the hotel. I explained that we thought it was a beautiful hotel and that it had great reviews.
“Well, I guess it’s fine if you don’t care about making my honeymoon special. Thanks for nothing.”
An elderly woman covering her face | Source: Pexels
I was furious. I felt a sense of disappointment that I had never felt before. We all knew that Mae behaved a certain way, but I was so sure that she would have changed her ways silently.
She was on the threshold of becoming a wife.
“I don’t think she meant it,” Jim said, trying to make up for Mae’s attitude.
A close-up of a woman | Source: Pexels
“Stop, Jim,” I said. “Stop trying to make Mae seem like someone she’s not. We need to teach her a lesson.”
It took my husband some convincing, but he eventually gave in when he realized that he couldn’t change anything about Mae.
We started by calling the hotel and canceling the reservation completely. Then we moved on to the next phase of our plan.
An elderly woman on the phone | Source: Pexels
“It’s an upgrade, darling,” I said to Mae on the phone while Jim made us some hot chocolate one evening, a week before the wedding.
“It’s going to be better than the hotel we showed you!”
“Thanks, Gran!” Mae said.
Two mugs of hot chocolate | Source: Unsplash
She said she was thrilled and couldn’t stop gushing about how grateful she was that Jim and I had finally changed the honeymoon plans for her.
On the day of the wedding, Jim handed her the envelope with the details. Inside, we included fake reservation documents for an extravagant resort that didn’t actually exist.
A white envelope on a table | Source: Midjourney
Thanks to an editing site on the internet, the documents looked professional and real. We also included a note that said:
Enjoy your dream honeymoon, Mae.
Love, Gran and Grandad.
A person using a laptop | Source: Unsplash
The rest of their reception went well, with Mae and Nathan dancing along to three songs.
“Three, because we couldn’t decide on just one for the first dance,” Mae explained after.
Eventually, the cake was cut and the evening began to wind down with the bridal car ready and parked at the entrance of the venue.
A couple cutting their wedding cake | Source: Unsplash
Nathan and Mae got in, not knowing that when they got to their honeymoon destination a few hours away, there wouldn’t be a reservation.
On cue, Mae called us later, fuming.
“What did you do? There is no reservation! Just a motel that looks like it needs to be fumigated! We’re stranded. How could you do this to me?”
An angry bride | Source: Unsplash
“Oh, darling,” I said. “It looks like maybe there was a mix-up. Maybe you should have appreciated the original gift.”
She was livid, but there was nothing she could do. They had to scramble for a room at the motel, and it wasn’t anything near the luxury she had expected.
They returned two days later, after Nathan had convinced her to make the most of their trip. Mae was still fuming, but we knew that she had learned a valuable lesson about gratitude and entitlement.
A rundown seaside motel | Source: Midjourney
She came over and asked me to bake her some cookies while we had a long conversation about her behavior.
“I’m sorry, Gran,” she said. “I know that I’m a lot, and I didn’t mean to be ungrateful. It was a humbling experience.”
Sometimes the best way to teach someone a lesson is with a bit of creative revenge.
Cookies on a plate | Source: Unsplash
What would you have done?
After returning home from a month-long vacation, a woman wakes up the next morning to discover a stranger sleeping on her couch
“But when will I get to see grandchildren? You’re too focused on your career, and I’m worried you’ll never settle down. Don’t you want a family someday?”
Megan sighed, gripping the wheel a little tighter as she tried to keep calm. She loved her mother, but this conversation was becoming all too familiar.
“Mom, I really can’t talk about this right now,” she said, faking a crackle in her voice. “The signal’s bad. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
Before Dina could continue, Megan quickly ended the call, feigning static noises to make it seem like the connection had failed.
She glanced down at the phone and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Pulling into her driveway, Megan parked the car and stared at her house for a moment.
She felt drained, both from the conversation with her mother and from the past few weeks.
What was supposed to be a restful vacation had turned into yet another working trip, with her phone constantly buzzing with problems at work.
For the entire month, she hadn’t been able to fully unplug. She didn’t even know what “rest” meant anymore.
After grabbing her bags from the trunk, Megan walked inside her dimly lit house, too tired to bother turning on all the lights.
She set her bags down by the door and paused for a moment. Something felt off. Glancing around, she noticed that one of the windows on the first floor was slightly open.
Puzzled, she tried to remember if she had left it like that before leaving for her trip. She shrugged it off, assuming she had simply forgotten to close it. It had been a busy month, after all.
Megan shut the window, turned off the last light on the first floor, and headed upstairs.
She barely had the energy to change into her pajamas. She kicked off her shoes, not even bothering to check if everything was in order.
Without thinking, she collapsed into her bed, letting her head sink into the pillow.
The familiar comfort of her bed was a relief, and within moments, Megan was fast asleep, her mind already letting go of the chaos of the day.
Little did she know that tomorrow would bring an unexpected surprise—one she never could have anticipated.
The next morning, Megan was jolted awake by the buzzing of her phone. Half-asleep, she groaned as she answered it, recognizing the overly enthusiastic voice of her assistant, Lisa.
Lisa’s high-pitched chatter filled her ears, rattling off a long list of meetings and tasks for the day at a speed that made Megan’s head spin.
“Lisa, please… slow down,” Megan mumbled, trying to focus as she stumbled out of bed. She held the phone between her ear and shoulder while getting dressed, lazily brushing her teeth, and starting her coffee machine.
The warmth of the coffee was barely hitting her system when something made her stop mid-sip—loud snoring coming from the living room.
Her body tensed as her brain struggled to process what she was hearing. Who is in my house?
“Lisa, I’ll have to call you back,” she said abruptly, hanging up the phone before Lisa could respond. Heart racing, Megan cautiously walked toward the living room, each step feeling heavier than the last.
Peeking inside, she couldn’t believe her eyes. A man—fully dressed with boots still on—was sprawled across her couch, snoring loudly.
Dirty footprints trailed from the window she had closed the night before to where the man now lay. Megan’s mind raced with questions. Who is this guy? How did he get in?
Her eyes narrowed, and without thinking twice, she darted to the kitchen, grabbing the nearest weapon she could find: a broom.
She marched back to the living room and jabbed the man with the handle.
He stirred, groggy and confused, blinking as he rubbed his eyes.
“Who are you?” Megan demanded, doing her best to keep her voice steady despite the panic rising in her chest.
The man, still half-asleep, sat up slowly. “Uh… I’m George,” he muttered, his words slurring together. “How did I get here?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing!” Megan snapped, frustration mixing with confusion. “Why are you on my couch?”
George blinked, clearly disoriented, as he looked around. “I don’t remember much… I was out with some friends, and then… nothing. I guess I drank too much.”
Megan sniffed the air and immediately recognized the stale scent of alcohol. It didn’t take long to piece together what had happened—George had been blackout drunk and somehow ended up in her house.
Her anger started to fade, replaced with a mix of disbelief and reluctant sympathy.
“Well, you’re lucky I didn’t call the police,” she said, setting down the broom. “Take these.”
She handed him a bottle of aspirin and watched as he gratefully swallowed a couple of pills.
“I need to leave for work, but this time make sure you use the door when you go. Not the window.”
George, still looking sheepish, nodded. “Thank you… and I’m really sorry.”
Megan sighed. “Just… don’t make a habit of it.” With that, she grabbed her things and headed out the door, leaving George to process his own mess.
That evening, Megan drove home after a long, exhausting day at work. Her eyes felt heavy, her body sore from sitting in meetings and staring at screens for hours. Her stomach growled in protest, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything substantial all day.
There hadn’t been a single free moment to stop for groceries, and she sighed at the thought of coming home to an empty fridge.
As Megan walked into the house, she froze. The familiar smell of her dim living room was replaced by something unexpected—the soft glow of candles flickered around the room, casting a warm, inviting light.
The dining table, which she had left bare that morning, was now set with plates, silverware, and an array of delicious-smelling dishes.
At the center of it all stood George, looking slightly awkward and sheepish but also determined. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he saw her expression.
“What is this?” Megan asked, her voice a mixture of shock and confusion.
George shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“I… I felt really bad about what happened this morning,” he explained, his voice soft. “So I cleaned up the mess I made, and I wanted to cook you dinner. You know, to make it up to you.”
Megan blinked, still processing the scene before her. She had expected to come home, collapse onto the couch, and figure out how to deal with her hunger.
Instead, she found this—a stranger who had passed out on her couch that morning, now standing in her living room with an entire meal prepared.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she said, still a bit in disbelief.
“I know,” George replied, “but I wanted to. It’s the least I could do after… well, everything.” He offered a small, apologetic smile.
George began to gather his things, ready to leave and give her space, but Megan stopped him.
“Wait,” she said softly, not wanting him to rush off just yet.”
You’ve already gone through all this trouble to make such a nice dinner. Stay and have it with me. I can’t eat all of this by myself, anyway.”
George hesitated, his uncertainty clear.
“Are you sure? I didn’t mean to intrude.”
Megan smiled warmly, her exhaustion from the day fading just a little. “Yes, I’m sure. Besides, it would be nice to have some company.”
They both sat down at the table, and as the scent of the warm food filled the air, Megan couldn’t help but feel a surprising sense of calm.
The hectic day seemed to slip away, replaced by an evening of unexpected comfort.
They sat down at the table, the soft glow of the candles creating a peaceful atmosphere. As they began to eat, the earlier tension seemed to melt away with each bite.
George, now more comfortable, started telling Megan about his wild night out with friends. He laughed as he explained how too much fun and a little too much to drink had led him to her couch, of all places.
“I honestly didn’t even realize I wasn’t home until I woke up this morning,” George chuckled, shaking his head.
“And when I saw you standing there with a broom, I thought I was in serious trouble.”
Megan couldn’t help but laugh along, her earlier frustration fading with each word.
The stress she had carried home after a long day at work seemed to vanish, replaced by the simple joy of sharing a meal and a conversation with someone who made her laugh. It felt like a break from the routine, like a breath of fresh air.
For the first time in what felt like ages, Megan felt completely relaxed. George was easy to talk to, and the conversation flowed naturally. They joked, swapped stories, and enjoyed the food he had so thoughtfully prepared.
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