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“Simon!” I yelled, my voice cracking. “Come look at this!”
Simon came running out, his face paling as he took in the scene. “What the hell happened?” he muttered, more to himself than to me.
Just then, Eleanor stepped out of the house, a cup of coffee in her hand, looking entirely unbothered. “Good morning,” she said, completely ignoring the chaos in the yard.
“Mom, did you do this?” Simon asked, his voice barely controlled.
Eleanor took a sip of her coffee. “Yes, I did. It was for her own good. She doesn’t need that ridiculous kitchen.”
I felt a surge of anger. “Eleanor, how could you? She loved that kitchen. Do you have any idea how much this means to her?”
“She needs to learn to eat real food, not play around with snacks all day,” Eleanor replied, her tone dismissive. “I’m just trying to help.”
Simon stepped closer to his mother, his fists clenched. “This isn’t helping. You’ve crossed a line. You’ve ruined something she loves, and you did it without even discussing it with us.”
Eleanor rolled her eyes. “You two are overreacting. It’s just a bunch of toys.”
“It’s not just toys, Mom,” Simon said, his voice rising. “It’s about respecting our choices as parents. You’ve disrespected us and hurt Hope in the process.”
Hope, who had been watching the exchange quietly, burst into tears again. “Daddy, why did Grandma do this? I loved my kitchen.”
I knelt beside Hope and hugged her tightly. “I know, sweetie. We’ll fix this, I promise.”
Simon took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Mom, you need to leave. We can’t have you here if you can’t respect our boundaries.”
Eleanor’s face turned red. “You’re kicking me out? After everything I’ve done for you?”
“This isn’t about us being ungrateful,” I said, standing up. “It’s about the fact that you’ve shown no respect for our parenting choices. You’ve caused so much distress for Hope. We need you to understand that this behavior is not acceptable.”
Eleanor scoffed. “You’ll regret this. You’re being so disrespectful to me as her grandmother.”
Simon shook his head. “We’re doing what’s best for our daughter. If you can’t see that, then maybe it’s best if you stay somewhere else for a while.”
As Eleanor stormed off to pack her things, Simon and I exchanged a look of exhausted solidarity. “We need to send a clear message,” he said. “She can’t just get away with this.”
I nodded. “Let’s send her the receipt for everything she ruined. Maybe that will make her realize how serious we are.”
Continued on next page
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