A Gift with a Bitter Taste: How Grandma Ruined the Twins’ Birthday
“What shall I get your boys for their birthday?” asked the mother-in-law, sipping her tea slowly. “I’ve been racking my brain, but nothing comes to mind.”
Natalie pretended to consider the question, though she already knew the answer. Her twin boys, Oliver and Harry, had been begging for the same present for months—an expensive glowing building set. She’d promised they’d get it for their birthday, but after checking the family budget, she realised she couldn’t afford it alone.
“They really want this particular building set,” she said carefully.
“Write down the name for me,” her mother-in-law perked up. “I’ll have a look.”
Natalie reached for a pen but hesitated.
“It’s quite pricey… Maybe we could split the cost? So it’s not just on you?”
“What, you think I can’t manage it?” Evelyn Davidson scoffed. “Fifty quid won’t break me, don’t you worry!”
Natalie pressed her lips together. How could she explain that each set cost three hundred pounds? And they needed two—one for each boy, or they’d argue endlessly.
“Three hundred each…” she murmured almost under her breath.
“Six hundred?! For toys?!” Her mother-in-law nearly choked. “Have you lost your minds? Spoiling them rotten.”
“They just want what their friends have,” Natalie shrugged. “I wouldn’t ask if I could manage it myself.”
After a long pause, Evelyn sighed with reluctant resignation.
“Fine. We’ll split it. But Philip—your husband—should chip in too. Only fair.”
“Of course,” Natalie agreed quickly. “I’ll give you my share now. Will you get them yourself?”
“I’ll handle it. Just tell me where.”
Natalie fetched her purse and handed over the money. Without a word of thanks, Evelyn tucked the notes into her handbag. Natalie then gave her the shop’s address and repeated, for the hundredth time: only the glowing ones, don’t get the wrong set.
“Alright, alright! No need to nag—I’m not deaf,” Evelyn snapped before leaving.
Three days later, on the twins’ birthday, Natalie grew anxious. It was already midday, and Evelyn still hadn’t arrived. Just as she reached for her phone, there was a knock at the door.
There stood Evelyn, dressed smartly and looking pleased, holding two bags. The boys rushed forward, cheering. She handed them the boxes, hugging and kissing them.
But when they unwrapped the gifts, Natalie froze. These weren’t the right sets. Not glowing, far simpler, and—judging by the look—much cheaper. Disappointment flickered across the boys’ faces, though they politely thanked their grandmother.
“These aren’t the ones…” Natalie whispered. “I told you—”
“They were half the price!” Evelyn declared proudly. “What’s the difference?”
“It mattered to them. Why did you skimp?”
“Are you telling me what to do now?!” Evelyn’s eyes flashed. “Boys! Bring those back!”
Confused, they handed the gifts over. Evelyn snatched the boxes, tucked them under her arm, and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
Natalie stood in the hallway, stunned. The twins, unable to hold back their tears, began to cry.
Five minutes later, a text arrived: “Returning these to the shop. Don’t call.” The money was never returned. Worse, for weeks, Evelyn ignored Natalie’s calls and her son’s attempts to make sense of what had happened.
She reappeared a month later, acting as if nothing had occurred. No mention of the gifts, no word about the money. Natalie stayed silent too. But from that day on, she decided—no more shopping through her mother-in-law. Better fewer gifts, but given with love.
And most importantly—she wouldn’t let anyone ruin her children’s happiness again. No matter the cost.