Granddaughter’s Demand: How I Turned the Tables on Her Entitlement

Our Granddaughter Demanded We Give Her Our Villa as It Was Nicer despite Us Paying for Vacation – I Taught Her a Lesson

My intention to give my grandchildren an opulent family holiday took an unanticipated turn when one of my granddaughters insisted on staying in the most extravagant hotel. I made the unorthodox choice in order to impart a lasting lesson on her.

Because my spouse, John, and I have been fortunate in life, we wanted to do something particularly memorable for our family. “Why not celebrate with a big family vacation?” was our notion when our granddaughter, Robin, recently tied the knot.

We chose Bora Bora because, let’s face it, who hasn’t fantasised about visiting there? It’s similar to those locations on postcards where you wonder, “Do people really go there?” Indeed, they do, and we made the decision to be among them.

This trip was a terrific deal for us. After much searching, we discovered this lovely location that could accommodate all of us: three bungalows for the grandchildren and their families, and a large home for John and myself.

The bungalows were quite beautiful, a thousand square feet each with a bathroom, a king bed or two queens and a small outdoor area.

But the villa, my goodness, there was another story. We had four thousand square feet all to ourselves, complete with a living room, bedroom, sauna-equipped bathroom and—best of all—an outside space that included a pool, bathtub and a slide that led directly into the ocean. It felt like heaven.

Now, the trouble began before we had even been there for a full day. As we enjoyed the wind and the sound of the waves while eating dinner together, Jenny, my other granddaughter, mentioned that she wanted to utilise our slide.

Robin asked to see photos because she hadn’t seen our villa yet. I assumed she’d be thrilled when I showed her. Rather, she became agitated. Very irate.

“You have a four thousand square foot villa with a sauna and pool, and you expect us to live like peasants? There at the dinner table, she said, “I want it!”

My ears were unbelievable to me. To begin with, there are no peasants in Bora Bora. Secondly, we believed that having everyone present was a good thing.

I made an effort to convey to Robin that spending quality time as a family was more important than the size of the space. Furthermore, if we handed her the lone villa, what would it say to the others?

She would have none of it, though. She stormed off, threatening to leave the next day, accusing us of holding money over her head.

John suggested that we give in to maintain harmony, but I was unable to do it for some reason. It wasn’t appropriate. It felt like everything was coming apart over a room when all we wanted was a lovely family holiday.

I didn’t even get a wink of sleep that night. John had passed out, but me? As I tossed and turned, my thoughts drifted to Robin and her outburst regarding the property.

You know, it’s funny. In an instant, kids may be tiny and reliant on you for everything, but in another, they may be adults requesting villas in Bora Bora.

I thought about what to do all night long. A part of me wanted to give in to Robin’s demands in order to put an end to the drama, but another part of me reasoned that this was an opportunity to impart important knowledge to her.

I so decided to try something different the following morning when Robin flatly refused to attend breakfast and pretended that she wouldn’t join us for anything as long as we were there.

I assured everyone that I would respect Robin and her husband’s decision to go, and that I would even help them arrange for a return flight. While I wouldn’t throw them away, I also wouldn’t implore them to stay.

I made the decision that it was time to do something about it instead of waiting for Robin to show up. So, on what was supposed to be a peaceful holiday, I did something I never thought I’d do: I went and booked a flight for Robin and her husband to return home.

Yes, I realise it sounds severe. But as my old friend used to say, sometimes you had to cut the queue to save the net. I requested that the remaining bookings for Robin and her husband be cancelled by the hotel personnel. They were understanding of the family drama, more so than I would have liked.

Next was the packing. Thank heavens for their kindness, the hotel personnel came over to assist Robin and her husband with packing. I decided it would be best to keep my distance and didn’t accompany them.

However, as I watched them from the balcony of our villa, I had a strange mixture of relief and melancholy. It was similar to ultimately choosing to haul a dilapidated, tumbledown fence to the trash. Although it was painful to let it go, it was necessary in order for the new one to arrive.

It was a strange breakfast. Nearly touching their plates of tropical fruit, everyone was carefully avoiding the elephant in the room. I made the decision to have a conversation. “Look, things got out of hand last night,” I said. Not to argue over who gets to stay in the nicer room, but to have fun is why we’re here.

At that moment, Robin appears to be prepared for war as she charges inside. “You’re kicking me out now, so what?” She yells and gestures towards me with a finger.

I sigh, “No, Robin. We’re not throwing you out. We just believe it might be best for you to return if you’re so miserable. You know that we want our vacation to be peaceful?

A pin could have dropped. It appeared as though Robin was torn between being astonished and being angry. She stutters, “I…I haven’t even looked up flights yet,” which confirmed pretty much what I suspected.

I tried to maintain my composure while remaining tough and answered, “Well, I already helped you with that.”

When Robin realised that I wasn’t playing the game she expected, you should have seen the look on her face. For a considerable amount of time, the family would rush to put her needs first whenever she had a tantrum. Not at this moment. I maintained my composure while being firm. I stated I would miss her but that I could understand if she felt she had to leave.

Something unexpected transpired after they departed. Like never before, the rest of the family gathered together. My other grandchildren told me they were happy with my handling of the circumstance. They claimed that without Robin’s continual turmoil, the trip was more pleasurable.

And the vacation was over in an instant. Most of all, we relished one other’s company and relished the villa, the slide, and the ocean. It served as a reminder that, on occasion, maintaining your stance is preferable to caving in to irrational requests.

That concludes the tale. It goes beyond a luxurious villa or a mishandled family holiday. It’s about establishing limits, being respectful, and demonstrating love under trying circumstances. Furthermore, what do you know? I believe that everyone, including Robin, wherever she may be, gained something from it.

When our granddaughter received our wedding present, she accused us of being frugal.

I’m a proud grandma to five amazing grandchildren—two guys and three women—and I’m in my 70s. I love my grandchildren and provide for them both materially and emotionally quite a bit. They are aware that they can rely on me for support during happy or sad times.

Eloise, the youngest grandchild, tied the knot in October of last year. For our grandchildren, my husband—who is also in his 70s—and I have a custom. The day before the wedding, we give them a cheque for $40,000. We also purchase a little present from the wedding registry, usually the cheapest item.

It’s ultimately up to them, although we hope they’ll utilise it for a house. We also ask that they keep it a secret because of the size of our family. Everyone has complied with this request thus far.

This time, we sent our youngest granddaughter—the cheapest item on her registry—an air fryer. We received a furious call from Eloise, who branded us cheap. When I answered her phone, she didn’t even say hello; instead, she just became irrationally angry and exclaimed, “Grandma, really? I recently received your gift. A fryer that uses air? The least expensive item you could locate on my registry is that.”

I told her that even though the air fryer was the cheapest item on their registry, I still thought it would be helpful to them, which surprised her. Eloise continued to gripe, “Effective? You know you’re capable of more than that, so come on. Everyone is aware that you are wealthy. It just amazes me that you would be so stingy with me. It’s awkward.

I told her, “Yes, you’re right,” during this heated exchange. We are old, cheap, and worthless. The only thing you were unaware of was that we intended to give you a $40,000 cheque the day before the wedding.”

I told Eloise this in an effort to clarify to her the financial gift we typically give our grandchildren before to their wedding, but she was so enraged at this time that she wasn’t paying attention to anything I had to say. After all, we had just bought her an air fryer, so perhaps she didn’t think we would give her so much money?

She eventually stated, “No, it’s obvious. Simply put, you don’t love me enough to express it. You are aware of the pressure the wedding is putting on me. And this after that? You seem to be indifferent,” she said, hanging up.

My spouse and I were shocked by Eloise’s response, but we still opted to give her the $40,000 because we didn’t think she deserved it. Instead, we got her a china set in an attempt to placate her.

Let’s go back to last week. We were being honest with her about the money, as Eloise learned from her brother. She contacted us again, accusing us of discriminating after verifying it with her cousins. “It turns out that you really did give the money to everyone else when they got married,” she said. Why did I not receive anything?

“We felt after your reaction to the wedding gift, it wasn’t right to go ahead and gift you the money,” we said, explaining why we were standing firm. Eloise begged in an attempt to persuade us otherwise, saying, “So, you’re punishing me? Is that all there is to it? since the reason for my ire was an air fryer.”

She didn’t even realise what she had done wrong, and that infuriated me. Eloise, it had nothing to do with the air fryer. It was the disdain in the way you spoke to us. We can’t support or anticipate that,” I clarified.

With tears in her eyes, Eloise begged us, saying, “But that’s so unjust! I was anxious, Granny. Organising a wedding is difficult, and I lost my cool. I didn’t intend for any of it. She merely needed to apologise to us, in my opinion, rather than coming up with reasons to defend her actions.

But we recognise that this is a trying moment, but words and deeds have repercussions, I informed her. We wanted you to realise how important love and family are compared to material possessions.” Eloise said, desperate, “But you don’t understand! Can’t we just put this whole thing behind us? Grandma, I need that money.