…grabbed the check from her hands. “Absolutely not,” I snapped. “He’s the guest of honor, *not* your ATM.” The whole table went quiet, and Grandpa looked up with tired eyes, clearly overwhelmed.
Lily rolled her eyes. “Relax, it’s only $20 each. He can afford it.”
“Then *you* pay it,” I said, pulling the $50 I had originally sent her from my purse and slapping it on the table. “This covers Grandpa and me. You can split the rest with your ‘youthful energy.’” I turned to Grandpa and gently took his hand. “Come on, Grandpa. Let’s go get you a proper meal.”
Lily’s friends stared in awkward silence as we walked out, Grandpa leaning on me. We ended up at his favorite diner, where he ordered meatloaf with mashed potatoes and smiled for the first time all evening.
That night, I posted a photo of Grandpa grinning with his birthday pie, writing, “*This* is how you celebrate 90 years of life—with respect, love, and meatloaf.”
**Lesson:** Never delegate honor to someone who only seeks attention. Celebrations should be about the person being honored—not the one planning the party.
