A woman is angry and hurt when her husband forgets their 50th wedding anniversary and throws his belongings in the gutter — until he comes home with an unusual excuse.
Betty Carmichael was sure her husband had forgotten their anniversary yet again, only this time she wasn’t going to take it lying down. She had been married to Donald for fifty years and she deserved better!
She had stood by his side through thick and thin and given him three children and the best years of her life, and what did she get? Not even a bouquet of ratty daisies, let alone red roses.
Donald hadn’t brought Betty flowers in years. | Source: Pexels
Betty looked at the wall clock and frowned. 21:30. He hadn’t even bothered to come home for the special dinner she’d prepared! This was the last straw!
Trust is the cornerstone of any relationship, and doubt wears away at the love that holds it together.
Two hours later, Betty heard her husband’s car pull into the driveway and smiled grimly. Donald wasn’t going to enjoy his evening, not one little bit.
She immediately heard a shout: “BETTY! What is going on here!”
She marched outside and stood on the porch, her fists on her hips. “What do you want?” she asked.
Betty prepared a romantic dinner but Donald didn’t come home. | Source: Unsplash
Donald was standing in the garden and he looked very angry. He pointed a finger at an old worn-out recliner sitting on the lawn along with several boxes of books and bric-a-brac.
“What are my things doing out on the lawn?” he asked. “Have you run mad, woman?”
“Mad!” screamed Betty, and the lights went on in the house next door. “You are the one who must be mad! Do you have Alzheimer’s or amnesia? I’m kicking you out. I’m divorcing you!”
“Divorcing me?” gasped Donald, flabbergasted. “I’m seventy-eight years old and you’re seventy-five and you want a DIVORCE?”
“Yes!” cried Betty angrily. “Do you think that just because I’m seventy-five I’m no longer a woman? That you can take me for granted? Well, I won’t let you!”
Betty was sure Donald didn’t love her anymore. | Source: Pexels
“Betty,” Donald said. “Be reasonable. What is this all about?”
“You forgot our anniversary AGAIN!” Betty said angrily. “We’ve been together for fifty years and I have to remind you of my birthday. I understand you weren’t there, but you were definitely there for the wedding!”
“Bets,” Donald protested. “That was the happiest day of my life…”
“Then why don’t you remember it?” Betty asked. “Why don’t you bring me flowers or take me dancing? You don’t love me anymore. You haven’t loved me in years.”
Donald shook his head. “I love you, Betty,” he said. “You are the love of my life…”
Betty brought Donald’s favorite chair out in the street. | Source:Source: Unsplash
“Then why didn’t you come home for dinner?” Betty asked. “I made a special dinner and lit candles and set out flowers and you didn’t show up! Where were you? Out with another woman?”
Donald grinned. “Yes,” he said and stepped aside. Standing there was a slim girl in her twenties with Betty’s blue eyes and Donald’s wide smile.
“Hannah!” Betty cried and ran down the steps. She would have fallen if Donald hadn’t caught her. She threw her arms around the girl and started crying.
“Oh, Hannah,” she sobbed. “It’s been too long! I’ve missed you so much!”
Hannah came to visit her grandparents. | Source: Unsplash
“Hi, Gran Betty,” Hannah said. “I’m sorry we were so late, but my flight was delayed. Poor Gran Donald waited for hours!”
Betty turned to her husband. “You knew she was coming and you didn’t tell me?” she protested.
“I didn’t KNOW,” Donald said triumphantly. “I arranged it! It was supposed to have been your anniversary surprise, but the flight was late… You’ve been complaining about how much you miss your only grandchild, so I sent her a plane ticket!”
“Oh, Don!” Betty cried, and put her arms around her husband. “I’m sorry! I thought… I started thinking crazy things…”
Donald and Betty renewed their vows. | Source: Unsplash
“Betty,” Donald said tenderly. “I haven’t looked at another woman in fifty years and I’m not about to start now.”
“Donald,” Betty said. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“I don’t know,” Don said. “But I can tell you we’re going to have a hell of a time getting all my stuff back in the house where it belongs!”
With Hannah’s help, Don and Betty got everything tidied up and sat down for a midnight snack. “By the way,” Donald said. “I have another surprise for you. Tomorrow night we’re having a party with all our children and all our friends. I’ve arranged for Father Bartholomew to be there so we can renew our vows.”
Betty and Donald had a wonderful anniversary party. | Source: Unsplash
“But what am I going to wear?” gasped Betty.
“I don’t know about the dress, but I have a ring!” Don said, then he dropped down to one knee and pulled out a little jewelry box. “Betty Delancy Carmichael, will you marry me again?”
The next day, the Carmichaels celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary in style and Betty looked lovely in a pretty cream suit and a little veil. As Donald kissed her, she vowed never to doubt him again as long as she lived.
What can we learn from this story?
- Trust is the cornerstone of any relationship, and doubt wears away at the love that holds it together. Betty started imagining that Don didn’t love her anymore, and didn’t realize he had a sweet surprise for her.
- Marriage is about every single day, not just the special occasions. Betty forgot that Don was there for every difficult day and stood by her through thick and thin.
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If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a man who was shocked and hurt when his wife of thirty years asked for a divorce even though he’d always been a faithful husband.
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A Stranger Volunteered to Hold My Grandson at the Laundromat — His Next Action Left Me Breathless
When my washing machine broke while I was babysitting my grandson, I reluctantly headed to the laundromat. A kind stranger offered to help by holding the baby while I sorted clothes. Grateful, I accepted, but when I turned around minutes later, I saw something that made my blood run cold.
I’d been counting down the days, practically bursting with excitement. My first weekend alone with little Tommy, my precious grandson. At 58, I thought I’d seen it all, done it all. But nothing could have prepared me for the rollercoaster of emotions that lay ahead.
The day finally arrived. Sarah, my daughter, and her husband Mike pulled up in their sensible SUV, packed to the brim with what looked like enough baby gear to stock a small daycare.
“Mom, you sure you’re gonna be okay?” Sarah asked for what felt like the millionth time, her brow furrowed with that new-mom worry I remembered all too well.
I waved her off with a confident smile. “Honey, I raised you, didn’t I? We’ll be just fine. Now scoot! You two deserve this break.”
As they drove away, I turned to Tommy, nestled in my arms, his tiny fingers curled around my thumb. “It’s just you and me now, little man,” I cooed. “We’re gonna have the best time.”
I had it all planned out: cuddles, bottles, naps, and playtime, all neatly scheduled. What could possibly go wrong?
Famous last words.
It started with a gurgle. Not the adorable baby kind, but the ominous rumble of my ancient washing machine giving up the ghost.
I stared at the growing puddle on my laundry room floor, surrounded by a mountain of tiny onesies and burp cloths.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, feeling my perfect weekend plans crumble. Tommy chose that moment to unleash an impressive spit-up all over his last clean outfit.
I took a deep breath. “Okay, Grammy’s got this. We’ll just pop down to the laundromat. No big deal, right?”
Oh, how wrong I was.
The local laundromat was a relic from the ’80s, all buzzing fluorescent lights and the acrid smell of too much detergent.
I juggled Tommy, the diaper bag, and an overflowing laundry basket, feeling like I was performing some sort of demented circus act.
“Need a hand there, ma’am?”
I turned to see a man about my age, all salt-and-pepper hair and a grandfatherly smile.
Under normal circumstances, I might have politely declined. But with Tommy starting to fuss and my arms about to give out, that offer of help was too tempting to resist.
“Oh, would you mind? Just for a moment while I get this started,” I said, relief flooding through me.
He reached for Tommy, his weathered hands gentle as he cradled my grandson. “No trouble at all. Reminds me of when my own were little.”
I turned to the washing machine, fumbling with quarters and detergent pods. The familiar motions were soothing, and I found myself relaxing. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
That’s when I felt it. A prickle at the back of my neck, a sudden silence that felt oppressive. I glanced back, more out of instinct than any genuine concern.
My heart stopped.
Tommy, my precious baby grandson, had something bright and colorful in his tiny mouth. A Tide pod. And that “helpful” stranger? He was just standing there, smiling like everything was fine.
“No!” The scream tore from my throat as I lunged forward, my hands shaking so badly I could barely grab Tommy.
I pried the pod from his mouth, my mind reeling with horrible possibilities. What if I hadn’t turned around? What if he’d swallowed it?
I turned back to the strange man in a fury.
“What were you thinking?” I yelled at the man, clutching Tommy to my chest. “Don’t you know how dangerous these are?”
He just shrugged, that infuriating smile still in place. “Kids put everything in their mouths. No harm done.”
“No harm done? Are you mad?” I snatched up a detergent pod and thrust it toward him. “Here, why don’t you eat one then and we’ll see how it agrees with you!”
The man raised his hands and backed away. “What? No ways. It’s not like he got any, he was just nibbling on the edge…”
“Nibble on the edge then!” I snapped. I was practically stuffing the pod in his mouth at this point, I was so angry!
“Leave me alone, you crazy Karen!” The man tugged the pod from my fingers and threw it aside. “Fine thanks I’m getting for trying to help you.”
I wanted to shake him, to make him understand the gravity of what could have happened. I may well have done something crazy too, but Tommy was crying now, big hiccuping sobs that matched the frantic beating of my heart.
“You, are an absolute menace!” I yelled at the man as I started grabbing my things. “And an idiot, too, if you think it’s harmless to let kids chew on whatever they put in their mouths.”
I snatched up the washing basket, not caring about the wet clothes left behind or the quarters wasted.
All that mattered was getting Tommy out of there, away from that clueless man and his careless disregard for a baby’s safety.
The drive home was a blur. Tommy’s cries from the backseat felt like an accusation. How could I have been so stupid? So careless?
I’d handed my grandson over to a complete stranger, all because I was too proud to admit I might need more help than I’d thought.
Back home, I collapsed onto the couch, Tommy held tight against me. He was still crying, and I couldn’t help wondering if he’d swallowed some of the chemicals after all.
My hands were still shaking as I took out my phone and called my doctor. I couldn’t stop the tears that came, hot and heavy, when the receptionist picked up.
“Miss Carlson?” I sobbed. “This is Margo. Please, can I speak to Dr. Thompson? It’s urgent.”
The receptionist quickly put me through, and I explained everything to Dr. Thompson. He asked me a series of questions, like whether Tommy was vomiting or experiencing any trouble breathing.
“No, none of that, doctor,” I replied.
“It seems like you got lucky then, Margo,” he replied, “but keep a close eye on that grandson of yours and get him to the hospital immediately if he starts wheezing, coughing, or vomiting, okay?”
I promised I would, thanked Dr. Thompson, and ended the call. His words had given me some relief, but the “what ifs” kept playing through my mind like some horrible movie I couldn’t turn off.
What if I hadn’t looked back in time? What if Tommy had swallowed that pod? What if, what if, what if…
As the adrenaline faded, exhaustion set in. But even as my body begged for rest, my mind wouldn’t quiet.
The weight of responsibility I’d taken on hit me full force. This wasn’t like babysitting for a few hours. This was a whole weekend where I was solely responsible for this tiny, precious life.
I looked down at Tommy, now sleeping peacefully against my chest, unaware of how close we’d come to disaster. His little rosebud mouth, the one that had so nearly ingested something so dangerous, now puckered slightly in sleep.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” I whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Grammy promises to do better.”
And in that moment, I made a vow. Never again would I let my pride or anyone else’s apparent helpfulness put Tommy at risk. From now on, it was just us: Grammy and Tommy against the world.
The rest of the weekend passed in a blur of hypervigilance. Every little sound had me on edge, every potential hazard magnified in my mind.
By the time Sarah and Mike returned, I was a wrung-out mess of nerves and sleep deprivation.
“Mom, are you okay?” Sarah asked, concern etching her features as she took in my disheveled appearance.
I plastered on a smile, handing over a happily gurgling Tommy. “Just fine, honey. We had a wonderful time, didn’t we, little man?”
As I watched them drive away, relief and guilt warred within me. I’d kept Tommy safe in the end. But the close call at the laundromat would haunt me for a long time to come.
I trudged back inside, eyeing the pile of still-unwashed laundry. With a sigh, I picked up the phone.
“Hello? I’d like to order a new washing machine, please. ASAP.”
Some lessons, it seems, come at a higher price than others. But if it meant keeping my grandson safe, no cost was too great. After all, that’s what being a grandmother is all about: love, learning, and sometimes, hard-won wisdom.
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