Ahead of our biggest wedding anniversary, my wife and I couldn’t wait to celebrate with a marvelous romantic trip for two. However, our daughter tried to wrangle herself and her family along, making all sorts of demands, and that’s when I finally put my foot down.
My wife and I had been planning our 40th-anniversary trip for years. It was going to be a dream vacation to celebrate four decades of love and partnership, just the two of us. But then Jane, our daughter, got wind of our plans, and everything changed for the worse.
A happy couple | Source: Midjourney
My wife, Maggie, and I had booked a cozy little inn on the coast of Maine, the kind of place where you sip coffee on the deck and watch the sunrise over the ocean. It felt perfect—a romantic getaway to relive the early days of our marriage.
But when Jane discovered our plans, she rushed over to our house unannounced! She tried manipulating my wife into allowing her, her husband, and their two children to join!
An upset woman at the front door of a house | Source: Midjourney
“Mom, I just don’t understand how you could leave us out,” Jane said that evening over dinner after her oldest brother, Frank, had let it slip that we were going away on holiday.
“The kids adore and look up to you so much! Imagine how hurt they’d be if they found out you went on this amazing trip and didn’t want them there.”
I frowned but kept quiet. Our lastborn child had always been good at working her mother, and I wanted to see how this played out. My wife hesitated, the way she always did when Jane played the guilt card.
An upset couple having dinner | Source: Midjourney
Seeing her floundering as she tried to find the right words to get our daughter to back off, I decided to take control of the situation.
“Well, sweetheart, it’s not that we don’t want you there. This is a special trip for us,” I said, trying to reason with Jane.
Our daughter dramatically clasped her hands over her heart, and in my mind, I rolled my eyes just like I’d seen her do before.
“Exactly! That’s why it’s so important for my whole family to be part of it. This could be a once-in-a-lifetime chance for us to bond! You’re always saying how important family is, aren’t you, Dad?”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
I took a deep breath to steady myself, determined to stick to my guns.
“Jane, this trip is for us—just your mom and me. It’s our anniversary.”
Jane’s sigh was so dramatic that she deserved an Oscar for her performance.
“Dad, come on! We hardly ever get to do things like this as a family. You’re always preaching about how family is everything, and now you’re ditching us—and your grandkids? How is that fair?”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
The conversation didn’t end there. Over the next few weeks, Jane ramped up her efforts. She called my wife, and sometimes roped me in, almost daily, each time with a new angle.
“Mom, you’ll regret not including us when the kids are older and too busy to spend time with you.” Or, “Dad, don’t you want the kids to remember you as fun, involved grandparents?”
Eventually, her persistence wore my wife down. “Maybe we should consider it,” Maggie said one evening as we sat on the couch. “Jane might have a point. Family is important.”
A couple sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“Family IS important,” I agreed, “but so are we. This was supposed to be our time.”
Still, I could see the doubt in her eyes, and I knew I was outnumbered. To keep the peace, I reluctantly agreed to change our plans. We swapped the charming inn in Maine for a family-friendly resort in Florida.
Jane and her husband, Nick, only had to cover their airfare, while we footed the bill for the resort and the grandkids’ tickets. It wasn’t what I wanted, but I convinced myself it might still be fun.
An unhappy man on a computer | Source: Midjourney
But as the trip approached, my daughter’s entitlement grew. It started with little things.
“By the way, don’t forget to pack plenty of snacks for the kids,” Jane said one afternoon during a phone call to her mother. “You know how picky they are and I don’t trust resort food.”
My wife glanced at her packing list. “We can manage snacks, but—”
“And you and Dad will take them to the pool, right?” Jane cut in. “Nick and I could really use some uninterrupted relaxation. It’s not like you guys are doing much else.”
A rude woman on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I could feel the frustration bubbling inside me, but I bit my tongue.
Then came the final straw. Two nights before the trip, Jane called with another demand.
“Oh, one more thing,” she said casually. “Can you guys handle bedtime for the kids at least three or four nights? Nick and I want to check out the nightlife. You’re the pros, after all, having raised four children. And it’s your anniversary trip too, so… bonding time, right?”
That’s when it hit me. This wasn’t going to be a family trip. It was going to be Jane and Nick’s vacation while we played full-time babysitters! Our romantic anniversary getaway was slipping through our fingers…
A stressed man deep in thought | Source: Midjourney
The next day, I decided to confront my daughter. I called her while sitting in our bedroom, surrounded by brochures of the original trip we’d planned.
“Jane, we need to talk,” I began. “Your mom and I had a vision for this trip, and it didn’t include us acting as babysitters for you and Nick.”
She let out an exaggerated groan. “Dad, you’re being dramatic. It’s not like we’re asking you to take care of them the whole time. You’ll get to have your fun too.”
“Jane, you’re asking us to do bedtime, pool time, and probably everything in between,” I shot back. “We’re not your personal vacation staff!”
An angry man on the phone | Source: Midjourney
Her tone grew sharper.
“Do you hear yourself?! It’s like you don’t even want to spend time with your grandkids!”
“It’s not that,” I said, trying to stay calm. “But this trip was supposed to be about your mom and me, not you or the kids. We’ve been looking forward to it for years!”
“Fine,” she snapped. “Cancel it then! I’ll tell Nick we’re not going, and we’ll just sit at home while you and Mom gallivant around.”
I didn’t respond. I knew that whatever I said would only add fuel to the fire because Jane had gone too far.
Instead, I made up my mind…
A serious man | Source: Midjourney
After ending my call with Jane, giving her the impression that she’d won, without telling anyone, I called the airline and switched our tickets back to the original destination.
The day before our flight, I told my wife the truth about what I did. She blinked at me, stunned. “You did what?!”
“We’re going to Maine,” I said firmly. “Just the two of us. Like we planned.”
“But Jane—”
“Jane will figure it out,” I said. “We deserve this trip. And if we don’t take it now, we never will.”
An unhappy couple | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, we boarded our flight. As the plane soared into the sky, my wife squeezed my hand.
“You know, I think you were right,” she said softly. “I’m just worried about Jane’s reaction.”
“She’ll be fine,” I said, though I wasn’t entirely sure myself.
When we landed, I called our daughter.
“Jane, I need to let you know we decided to stick to our original plans. We’re not going to the family resort.”
There was silence on the other end. Then Jane’s voice exploded. “WHAT?! You left us? How could you do this? We were COUNTING on you!”
An angry woman on a call | Source: Midjourney
“For what, Jane?” I asked calmly.
“For HELP, obviously!” she snapped. “How do you think we’re supposed to manage the kids on our own? This trip was only doable because of you and Mom!”
Before I could respond, Nick grabbed the phone.
“This is unbelievable!” he shouted. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! You’ve ruined our vacation! We can’t afford babysitters on such short notice. You’re so selfish—on your anniversary, of all times!”
I didn’t argue. I simply hung up.
A man shouting on a call | Source: Midjourney
When we returned a week later, our daughter wasn’t speaking to us. She ignored our texts, and Nick posted a passive-aggressive comment on social media about “people who abandon family.” My wife felt guilty, but I didn’t.
The week in Maine had been everything we dreamed of—quiet, romantic, and restorative. Over a candlelit dinner on our last night, my wife took my hand and smiled. “I’m so glad we came here.”
“So am I,” I said.
A happy couple on vacation | Source: Midjourney
Frank later informed us that his sister and her family did go to the family resort but didn’t enjoy it much. The couple had their hands full with their children and barely got any time alone. Luckily, our grandkids had the time of their lives and couldn’t stop talking about it.
On the other hand, Jane might expect an apology, but I stand by my decision. Sometimes, the best way to teach someone a lesson is to show them that your time, and your boundaries, are just as valuable as theirs.
A happy and content man | Source: Midjourney
If that story had your emotions going up and down, then this next one will definitely blow your mind! In the following story, a woman’s family leaves her out of her aunt’s retirement celebration vacation in Hawaii, planning that she’ll stay behind and babysit their children. When the woman discovered the truth, she reacted most unexpectedly, getting revenge.
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.
I Chose Not to Include My Daughter-in-Law on a Family Vacation, and I Believe My Decision Was Justified
But every trip was a reminder of how connected we were and how much we valued this time together. It was a break from our everyday lives, a chance to let loose and just be, at least for some time.
“Mom, do you remember that time at the beach house when Kayla fell off the dock?” Evelyn would laugh, nudging her sister.
“Don’t remind me!” Kayla groaned, but she couldn’t help smiling. “I still can’t believe you all left me in the water like that.”
“We didn’t leave you, sweetheart. We were laughing too hard to pull you out,” I would tease, shaking my head.
These moments were precious, and I held onto them fiercely. But things started to change when Liam, my only son, got married to Beth.
Beth was sweet when they first met. Quiet, reserved, but kind-hearted. I was genuinely happy for them, and when they got married, I welcomed her into our family with open arms. Naturally, I invited her to join us on our girls’ trips. I wanted her to feel included, to be a part of our little tradition. It felt right at the time.
At first, Beth fit in well enough. She was always polite, maybe a little shy, but I thought she’d warm up eventually. She wasn’t as chatty as my girls, but she seemed to enjoy the trips. We all tried to make her feel comfortable.
“So, Beth,” Kayla asked one afternoon as we sat in a café on one of our trips. “What was it like growing up in Maine? I’ve always wanted to visit.”
Beth smiled softly, twirling the straw in her iced coffee. “It was nice. Quiet. Not much to do in my town, but the summers were beautiful.”
The conversation felt a bit forced, but we all chalked it up to Beth needing time to adjust. She’d become part of our family, and I wanted her to feel like she belonged.
But after Beth gave birth to her son, Lucas, things changed. She gained a lot of weight during pregnancy, which isn’t unusual. However, eight years later, she still hadn’t lost the baby weight.
I noticed how much it was affecting her, not just physically but in the way she moved and interacted with us. It was becoming harder to include her in our trips.
One day, we were out shopping. It was supposed to be a fun, lighthearted afternoon, just like old times. We’d hit the mall, grabbed lunch, and made our way through the stores, chatting and laughing. But Beth kept falling behind.
I glanced back and saw her sitting on a bench near the entrance of a department store. She looked exhausted, wiping the sweat from her brow. “You guys go ahead,” she said, breathing heavily. “I’ll catch up.”
Evelyn raised an eyebrow at me, trying to hide her frustration. “Mom, do we need to wait again?”
I sighed. “Let’s just give her a few minutes.”
But those few minutes turned into long stretches of waiting. We’d walk ahead, browse through the racks, and eventually circle back to find Beth still sitting there. It was becoming a pattern — and not just on that day. Every trip we went on, we had to slow down, stop more often, and accommodate her.
By the time we left the mall that day, the mood had shifted. What was supposed to be a carefree afternoon felt strained, and my girls were clearly frustrated.
“Mom, I hate to say it, but these trips aren’t the same anymore,” Kayla said as we loaded the shopping bags into the car.
“I know,” I replied, running a hand through my hair. “I just… I don’t want to leave her out.”
Evelyn nodded, her face softening. “We get it. But we can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to us either.”
I couldn’t argue with that. I knew they were right. The truth was, Beth’s presence had begun to change the dynamic of our trips, and not for the better.
We were holding back, compromising our enjoyment to accommodate her. And it wasn’t just about walking slower or sitting more. It felt like the whole energy of our outings was different.
The tipping point came when we started planning our annual trip to the pumpkin patch and apple orchard. It’s a tradition we’ve had for years — my favorite time of the year.
The fall colors, the smell of apples in the air, the laughter as we wandered through the orchard picking fruit. It was something we all looked forward to.
As we sat around the kitchen table, Evelyn looked up from her phone. “So, are we inviting Beth this year?”
I hesitated. We all knew what that would mean. Long breaks, slow walks, and probably missing out on some of the things we enjoyed most about the trip.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I finally said, my voice low. “It’s a lot of walking, and… well, you know.”
Kayla sighed with relief. “I’m glad you said it, Mom. It’s been hard with her.”
“We haven’t had a proper girls’ day in so long,” Lauren added, looking at her sisters. “I miss the way things used to be.”
The truth was staring me in the face, and there was no avoiding it.
That’s when I made the decision not to invite Beth. It wasn’t easy, but I told myself it was for the best. My daughters deserved a day to relax and enjoy themselves without constantly having to adjust to Beth’s limitations.
The day of the trip came, and it was perfect. The weather was crisp, the leaves were golden and red, and we spent the entire day walking through the orchard, picking apples, and laughing.
We didn’t have to stop or slow down. It was like the old days, just me and my girls. I even posted a few pictures on Facebook, not thinking much of it.
But later that night, my phone rang. It was Beth.
I took a deep breath before answering. “Hi, Beth.”
“Lilian, I saw the pictures on Facebook,” she said, her voice tense. “Why wasn’t I invited?”
I felt my stomach drop. I knew this conversation was coming, but I wasn’t prepared. “Oh, it was just a small trip,” I stammered. “Nothing big.”
“But I’m family,” Beth said, her voice rising. “Why didn’t you invite me?”
There it was. The question I had been dreading. I could’ve lied, made up some excuse, but what would be the point? The truth was staring me in the face, and there was no avoiding it.
“Beth,” I said softly, trying to choose my words carefully. “It’s not that we don’t want you there. It’s just… well, the walking. You’ve needed a lot of breaks, and it’s made it hard for us to enjoy the trips the way we used to.”
Silence hung in the air for what felt like an eternity.
“So, you didn’t invite me because of my weight?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I admitted, guilt washing over me. “It’s been difficult. We’ve had to change the way we do things, and… I didn’t want to say anything, but it’s affected our trips.”
Beth was quiet for a moment, and I could feel the hurt radiating through the phone. “I thought I was part of this family,” she finally said, her voice trembling. “I thought you cared about me.”
“I do care about you, Beth—”
“No, you don’t,” she interrupted. “If you did, you wouldn’t have excluded me like this. You wouldn’t make me feel like an outsider.”
And with that, she hung up. I sat there, staring at the phone, my heart heavy with regret.
Later that night, Liam texted me. “Mom, Beth’s really hurt. You need to apologize.”
I read the text over and over, feeling torn. Should I apologize? Was I wrong to protect this time with my daughters? I wasn’t sure anymore.
The next morning, I talked to the girls. “Do you think I was too harsh?” I asked as we sat around the kitchen table.
“No, Mom,” Evelyn said, shaking her head. “We love Beth, but it’s not fair to us either. Our trips haven’t been the same.”
Kayla nodded. “We just want to enjoy ourselves like we used to. You did the right thing.”
Their reassurance helped, but I couldn’t shake the guilt. I didn’t want to hurt Beth, but I couldn’t ignore the strain her presence had put on our trips.
I’d reached my limit. Maybe I could’ve handled it better, maybe I should’ve been kinder, but the truth was out now.
I still don’t know if I made the right decision. All I wanted was to protect the bond I had with my daughters. But now I wonder if that decision has cost me something far greater.
Do you think I handled it correctly? What would you have done in my place?
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