My wife and I had been planning our 40th‑anniversary trip for years — a romantic getaway at a quiet inn in Maine. But when our daughter Jane found out, she tried to turn it into a family vacation, insisting we bring her husband and kids along. She guilt‑tripped her mother daily until Maggie began to waver. Against my better judgment, I reluctantly agreed to change the plans.
Soon Jane’s “requests” turned into demands. She expected us to pack snacks for the kids, watch them at the pool, and even handle bedtime so she and her husband could enjoy the nightlife. It became painfully clear — this wasn’t going to be our anniversary trip. It was going to be their vacation, with us as free babysitters.
So, without telling Jane, I quietly switched our tickets back to Maine. The morning of the flight, I told Maggie the truth. She was stunned but relieved. When Jane realized we’d gone without her, she exploded over the phone, calling us selfish for “ruining” her plans. I didn’t argue — I simply hung up.
That week in Maine was everything we had dreamed of — peaceful mornings, long walks by the ocean, and candlelit dinners. Meanwhile, Jane and her husband struggled to manage their kids at the resort without us. In the end, our grandkids had fun, but Jane learned a hard lesson: our anniversary was about us, not her convenience.