My Son Refused to Eat During Our Thanksgiving Dinner – When I Asked Why, He Said, ‘Grandma Told Me the Truth About You’

This Thanksgiving started with a hard-earned feast, but my son refused to eat and wouldn’t tell me why. Later, his heartbreaking confession revealed how one family member had shattered his trust and ours.

Life isn’t easy right now, but everyone does their best to make it work. My husband, Mark, and I try to focus on what really matters: creating a happy home for our 8-year-old son, Ethan.

A cute boy | Source: Midjourney

A cute boy | Source: Midjourney

This year, we were determined to give him a Thanksgiving to remember, even though money’s been tight. We were also hosting our mother, so I wanted it to be nice.

Luckily, we managed to stretch our budget and pulled off a feast. The turkey came out golden and juicy, the mashed potatoes were fluffy, and Ethan’s favorite pumpkin pie was chilling in the fridge. I was proud of what we’d accomplished despite rising prices.

Thanksgiving food on a table | Source: Midjourney

Thanksgiving food on a table | Source: Midjourney

Everything seemed fine until dinner. Ethan sat at the table, unusually quiet while staring at his plate. That kid often bounces with excitement for Thanksgiving.

“Sweetie,” I said gently, trying not to sound worried, “you’re not eating. Is everything okay?”

He shrugged, barely looking up. “I’m not hungry,” he mumbled.

A sad boy at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

A sad boy at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

Mark shot me a questioning look across the table. I shrugged back, unsure what was going on. Our son was not the kind of kid to hold back if something was bothering him, but with my mom at the table, maybe he didn’t feel like talking.

She’s not exactly the warmest presence.

I decided not to push it during dinner. “Alright,” I said softly, giving his hand a little squeeze. “But let me know if that changes, okay?”

Ethan nodded, but the look on his face stayed with me. Something was wrong.

A worried woman at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney

After dinner, my son skipped dessert. Skipped. Dessert. That’s like the sun deciding not to rise.

Meanwhile, my mom didn’t notice or didn’t care. She stayed for another hour, and for some reason, she nitpicked the meal we’d had tirelessly saved for and worked so hard to make.

She complained about the fact that we made mac and cheese from a box, which is Ethan’s favorite, or it used to be, I guess.

Mac and cheese | Source: Midjourney

Mac and cheese | Source: Midjourney

Apparently, we should’ve bought the good cheese and real macaroni from the store, considering Thanksgiving was such a special occasion.

At one point, tears pricked my eyes because this had been such a sacrifice. I wanted to yell that between her and Ethan’s strange attitude, Thanksgiving had been ruined.

But I bit my tongue, nodding to appease her. When she finally left, I headed straight for my son’s room.

A woman looking sad during Thanksgiving dinner | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking sad during Thanksgiving dinner | Source: Midjourney

Mark followed, just as worried as I was. Ethan was curled up on his bed, hugging his pillow.

“Sweetie?” I said softly, sitting beside him. “What’s wrong, honey? You’ve been so quiet today. You didn’t eat your favorite mac and cheese, and you didn’t want pumpkin pie.”

He looked at me with teary eyes. “Grandma told me the truth about you,” he whispered.

My stomach dropped. “What truth?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

A woman looking worried in a child's bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking worried in a child’s bedroom | Source: Midjourney

He hesitated, then blurted out, “She said you and Dad are losers! She said we’re poor, and that’s why we can’t have a real Thanksgiving.”

My body froze, but my eyes widened. I could almost hear the sound of my heart breaking into a million pieces, like a vase thrown deliberately at the wall.

“When did your grandmother say these things?” I finally asked in a whisper.

“Last week, when she picked me up from school,” he replied as the tears wet his pillow.

A kid in bed looking sad | Source: Midjourney

A kid in bed looking sad | Source: Midjourney

Mark knelt next to me, and I saw his jaw tightening. “Ethan,” he said gently, “Grandma shouldn’t have said that to you.”

Our son sniffled, and his small hands gripped the blanket tighter. “She also said Dad’s lazy and doesn’t make enough money. And that you’re… not good at taking care of me.”

I could barely breathe.

Luckily, Mark was more composed. He started rubbing Ethan’s back, speaking in a calm but firm voice. “Buddy, none of that is true. Your mom and I work hard to give you everything we can because we love you so much.”

A man looking worried as he leans over a bed | Source: Midjourney

A man looking worried as he leans over a bed | Source: Midjourney

“But she said we’re not a real family,” our son continued. “Because we don’t have the stuff other people have.”

“Listen to me, sweetie,” I said hoarsely. “Grandma is wrong. What makes a family real isn’t money or stuff. It’s love. And we have so much of that.”

Mark chimed in, nodding. “People can and will say hurtful things, even people we love. But your mother’s right. What matters is how we treat each other, and I think we’re the luckiest family in the world because we’re together and healthy.”

A man leaning over a bed | Source: Midjourney

A man leaning over a bed | Source: Midjourney

“Really?” Ethan asked.

“Yes!” Mark and I said in unison, and then I continued. “Listen, baby. We’re going to talk to Grandma. But she won’t be picking you up anymore. We all need a break from her, I think.”

Ethan bit his lip for a second before his tiny smile emerged.

“All good now?” Mark asked, tilting his head.

Our son lifted his upper body slightly and looked at us expectantly. “Can I have some pumpkin pie now?”

A kid looking happy lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

A kid looking happy lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

Mark and I released a sigh of relief.

We went out to the kitchen, and Ethan acted like he’d never eaten before. He devoured his mac and cheese, a bit of the turkey, and even some green beans before inhaling his piece of pumpkin pie.

He fell asleep on the couch a second after he finished, and we carried him to his room.

Once we were inside our bedroom, Mark and I agreed on what we would say to my mother almost immediately. He was so angry that there was no other choice.

A couple talking seriously | Source: Midjourney

A couple talking seriously | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, I woke up ready, but nervous. I called my mom over, and she arrived, looking smug and carrying that air of superiority that I’d ignored most of my life.

I just couldn’t let it go now that it had affected my son.

“Why did you invite me over? We saw each other last night, and I definitely don’t want leftovers from that meal” she chuckled without humor, sitting down on our armchair and not even saying hello to Mark.

A woman sitting on an armchair | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on an armchair | Source: Midjourney

Her comment was perfect because it assured me that I was making the right choice.

So, I didn’t waste more time. “Ethan told us what you said to him last week,” I began. “About Mark and me and our family.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, that? I was just being honest,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “He needs to understand how the real world works.”

Mark’s voice was sharp. “Telling an 8-year-old that his parents are losers is your idea of honesty?”

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. I was just preparing him for reality. He needs to know life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.”

“What he needs is love and support,” I snapped. “Not your judgmental comments. Do you have any idea how much you hurt him? Did you even notice he wasn’t eating last night?”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt him,” she said, looking annoyed. “But really… it’s just the truth. You can’t provide enough. He should have more.”

A woman sitting on an armchair and waving a hand dismissively | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on an armchair and waving a hand dismissively | Source: Midjourney

“More?” Mark said, standing and pacing the living room. “We work hard to give Ethan a good life. All he needs is us by his side. You don’t get to tear our family down just because you think we don’t measure up to your standards.”

Mom’s face turned red. “Things wouldn’t be this way if Umma had listened,” she retorted and turned her angry eyes to me. “If you had married the man I wanted for you, none of this would’ve happened.”

A woman looking angry on an armchair | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking angry on an armchair | Source: Midjourney

I saw that my husband was about to explode, so I stood and spoke first. “That’s enough. Get out of my house! Until you can show us all the respect we deserve, we’re cutting you off.”

Her jaw tightened. “What? You can’t do that!”

“Yes, we can,” Mark said, walking to our front door and opening it wide. “We might be losers, but this is our house, and we’ve had enough of you.”

Mom looked at me one more time, but I only raised my eyebrows expectantly.

A woman with arms crossed in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman with arms crossed in a living room | Source: Midjourney

With a huff, she grabbed her purse and stormed out. Mark slammed the door behind her and barked a laugh.

I didn’t, but I felt a weight off my shoulders.

Since then, our son has been thriving. It’s a little hard not being able to ask my mom to pick Ethan up, but we arranged a carpool schedule with other moms.

Weeks later, on an evening close to Christmas, I confirmed that this had been the right decision while baking cookies from a box mix. Ethan looked up at me with a big smile.

A boy with a bowl of cookie dough | Source: Midjourney

A boy with a bowl of cookie dough | Source: Midjourney

“Mom, I think our family is the best,” he said.

My throat felt too tight as I smiled back. “Me too, buddy. Me too.”

I don’t know if my mom will ever make her way back into our lives, but so far, she hasn’t even tried. Her pride and toxicity don’t allow her to see the big picture or what truly matters in life.

My advice is: Protect your kids, even if you have to pull away from other family members. The holidays should be joyful, not a source of stress and tears. Do what’s best for your household.

A happy family on Christmas | Source: Midjourney

A happy family on Christmas | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Older Lady Finds Money on Floor Every Day, Sees Her Cat Bring It and Follows Him – Story of the Day

Lonely pensioner, Wendy, has spent most of her life providing shelter cats with a forever home. When her newest pet, Lucky, starts bringing home dollar bills, Wendy quickly realizes something suspicious is happening in her neighborhood.

“There, there.” Wendy reached into the pet carrier and stroked the shorthair cat she’d just brought home from the shelter. “This is your new home, Lucky, where you’ll always be safe.”

Lucky peeped out at Wendy’s other four cats, who were sniffing curiously in the carrier’s direction.

“That’s just your new family.” Wendy scratched behind the cat’s ears. “Let’s see if you’ll be brave enough to get to know them over dinner.”

Wendy went to the kitchen. Four of the cats came running when she opened the tin of cat food. She set down their bowls and was about to take Lucky his food to eat in the carrier when he appeared at the door.

“Mah-ow,” Lucky mewed at her.

“What a brave kitty.” Wendy stroked the newcomer and gave him his food. “I knew you’d fit right in.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Wendy fixed herself a grilled cheese for dinner. While she ate, she lovingly watched the cats get to know each other. Although she couldn’t really afford another pet, Wendy hadn’t the heart to say no when her friend at the shelter called earlier that day.

“Nobody wants this cat,” Hannah had said. “They can’t see past his scars and age to the sweet personality beneath. If you don’t take him, Wendy, I don’t know what will become of him.”

“Feeding five cats is not that much different from feeding four,” Wendy reasoned.

“The most important thing is that Lucky has a good home to spend the rest of his life in.”

However, Wendy soon began noticing the difference it made to her budget. The cat food and litter ran out just a little bit faster, and her pension was already stretched a bit thin.

Wendy sat down one day to figure out how to continue without digging into her meager savings. While she crunched numbers, a painful meowing caught her attention. She hurried into the sitting room and immediately realized something was very wrong with Lucky.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“But will he be okay, Dr. Perry?” Wendy pressed her hand against the transparent box. Inside, Lucky lay curled in a ball with a drip attached to his leg. His eyes were dull with pain.

“We’re doing our best for him, Wendy, but it depends on what happens next. All we can do is pray that he responds to the medication.”

Wendy stared at Lucky. She wasn’t even confident she’d be able to pay for his treatments, but she couldn’t let him suffer either. She wished she could reach in and stroke him so Lucky would know he wasn’t alone.

“What do you want with my cat and me? If you’re trying to poison us then you won’t succeed. I’ve already called the police!”

“I can see he’s another of your rescues, Wendy, so I’m only going to bill you for any medication we need to give him.”

Wendy shook her head. “As I’ve told you before, Dr. Perry, I appreciate your kindness, but Lucky is my pet and my responsibility.”

The young vet frowned at Wendy. “I’m still going to keep offering, Wendy. You’ve done these cats a great kindness by taking them in, and I wish you’d let me help you ease the burden where I can.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Lucky returned home in good health a few days later, but something strange started happening. The Saturday after she brought Lucky home, Wendy discovered a few dollar bills lying on her doormat.

She assumed they’d fallen from her purse when she returned home earlier, but she found more money the next day. This time, it was lying on her bedroom floor.

“What is happening?” Wendy muttered as she counted the money. She checked her purse, but no money was missing.

On Monday, Wendy uncovered a new clue. She was knitting a cap for her friend, Hannah, when Lucky entered through the cat door with something in his mouth.

“You better not be bringing mice into my house, Lucky!”

Wendy rose to see what the cat had brought in. She gasped when he dropped a twenty-dollar bill.

“Where are you getting these?” Wendy asked. Lucky’s only response was to rub against her legs.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Wendy called Hannah to ask if she knew whether Lucky had ever done anything like this before. Hannah was just as stunned by the cat’s behavior.

“Maybe he’s decided to pay rent,” Hannah joked. “I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you, Wendy. You know what they say: don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

However, Wendy couldn’t bear the thought of Lucky stealing from one of her neighbors, for that was the only way she could imagine he was getting the money. She decided to watch the cat and see what he was getting up to.

Wendy kept a close eye on lucky the next day. He played a little with Snowy, one of her other cats, then went to sleep beneath a bush in Wendy’s yard. He slept a lot in many different spots.

Wendy watched Lucky tap lazily at a fallen leaf in the front yard. She was beginning to think this endeavor was silly when a strange car pulled up near the front gate. A person climbed out and crouched near the picket fence.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Immediately, Wendy set her knitting aside and reached for her glasses, but they weren’t there! Rather than miss the meeting between lucky and his partner in crime, Wendy leaned closer to the window and narrowed her eyes.

Lucky ran toward the person, who picked the cat up and cradled him on their lap. Wendy couldn’t tell if they were young or old, male or female. The person was too far away, and a hood hid their face.

After playing with Lucky for a few minutes, the mystery person set the cat down and gave him something. The person then ran back to their car. Lucky entered the yard and bounded toward the house as they sped away.

Wendy grabbed the cat the moment he crawled through the cat flap. He was carrying a twenty-dollar bill!

“You aren’t supposed to play with strangers.”

Wendy lifted the bill to the light to examine it. “Your friend could well be up to no good!”

Lucky rubbed against her legs and looked up at Wendy. “Mah-ow.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

The more Wendy thought about the situation, the less sense it made. She began to worry that the mystery person had bad intentions. They might even be planning to poison Lucky!

Wendy was waiting when the car stopped outside her house the next day. As soon as they seemed distracted by Lucky, Wendy burst through the front door wielding her cane.

“What do you want with my cat and me? If you’re trying to poison us then you won’t succeed. I’ve already called the police!”

“Don’t be so harsh on my accomplice. I’m sure he also would want to repay you for the kindness you’ve shown him.”

The mystery person scrambled to their feet, but Lucky, startled by the sudden outburst, hooked his claws into the person and ran up their shoulder. As Lucky leaped to the grass, he knocked aside the person’s hood.

Wendy gasped when she saw the face beneath the hood. She pointed at the person with her cane.

“Why on earth are you giving Lucky money?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I’m sorry, Wendy.” Dr. Perry raised his hands and started backing away to his car.

“Stop right there. You aren’t going anywhere until I get an explanation, Dr. Perry.”

“I just wanted to help. You always refuse to let me waive a portion of your vet bills, so I had to try another way. Lucky gave me the idea, actually. When we were treating him, I tried to get him to play by sticking a piece of paper through a ventilation hole in his cage.”

Dr. Perry smiled and shook his head. “He grabbed the paper in his teeth and carried it to the other side of the cage. I’ve never seen a cat do that, and I realized I could use him to make donations to you.”

“Donations?” Wendy straightened up. “I am not a charity case!”

“No, you’re a good person who’s too proud to accept a helping hand, Wendy. But I had to find a way to help you because you’re one of the few people I’ve met who cares as deeply for animals as I do.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“You see, I was just like you when I was a child,” Dr. Perry continued. “I used all my pocket money to buy food for the stray cats and dogs in my neighborhood, and they eventually became my pets. I also rescued any injured birds I found, but that all stopped when my mom remarried.”

“My step-father took all my animal friends and dumped them in the forest.” Dr. Perry hung his head. “I tried to find them, but I never did. I never forgave him or my mom, either. When I left home to become a vet, I cut all ties with them.”

“That’s terrible.” Wendy wiped at a tear spilling down her cheek. “I understand why you want to help me, Dr. Perry, and I do need the help, but I’ve lived alone all my life. I don’t know how to accept your kindness. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry I frightened you, Wendy.” Dr. Perry took Wendy’s hand. “Please, can we sit down and discuss a way I can help you care for your cats that won’t upset you?”

Wendy nodded. “Come inside. I have some pop if you don’t want coffee.”

Dr. Perry followed Wendy inside. Lucky was waiting at the door and greeted them with his usual ‘mah-ow’ and leg rub.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

After some discussion, Wendy agreed to let Dr. Perry bring food for the cats every month. He would also give each of her furry friends a check-up when he visited. That way, Wendy could continue enjoying her cats’ company without spending her entire pension on their care.

Dr. Perry also created a fundraiser to help with unexpected expenses, like Lucky’s sudden illness. Wendy wept with gratitude when Dr. Perry told her how successful the fundraiser was.

“Do you hear that, Lucky?” Wendy lifted the cat into her arms and scratched his chin.

“You’re set for life now. No need for any more dubious escapades on your part.”

Dr. Perry chuckled. “Don’t be so harsh on my accomplice. I’m sure he also would want to repay you for the kindness you’ve shown him.”

“I only wish there was more I could do for the cats in this city.” Wendy smiled as she listened to Lucky purring. “But I’m just one old lady, and there are only so many cats I can care for.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Two years later, Dr. Perry still remembered Wendy’s words on that day. He stood before the building he’d recently bought and converted into a shelter. Lucky was perched on his shoulder and seemed unperturbed by the small crowd gathered nearby.

“Thank you all for coming today,” Dr. Perry said. “While I’m happy to see so many familiar faces, it also saddens me that a woman I came to know as a close friend won’t be able to join us today.”

“Wendy spent most of her adult life providing a safe home to cats from shelters all over this city. To honor her memory, I hereby declare the Wendy cat shelter open for business.” Dr. Perry signaled to a man standing nearby.

The man lifted a cloth to reveal a portrait of Wendy with all five of her cats. Lucky was sitting on her lap, mouth open, as he begged for a treat. Dr. Perry had taken the photo himself, and it made him smile as he remembered that day.

“Wendy always wished she could do more to help the cats in our city. I’m counting on all of you to help me fulfil her dream by supporting this shelter.”

What can we learn from this story?

  • Don’t be too proud to accept help. Dr. Perry offered to help Wendy with the kindness of his heart. Instead of being so proud of her independence, Wendy should’ve taken his kind offer.
  • Many beautiful dogs and cats are waiting in shelters for loving homes. Next time you’re thinking of getting a pet, pay a visit to your local shelter. Maybe your next furry friend is waiting for you there.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a stray dog who guards a boy lost in the woods.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life

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