“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” she replied smoothly, brushing a strand of hair back. “I would’ve loved for you to join us, dear. I must’ve forgotten to text you.
Such a shame.”
Then, with a smug smile, she picked up a bag from the floor. “But don’t worry—I brought pajamas for Eric and Ben. At least they can fit in.”
She held up the little plaid pajamas like they were some kind of trophy and took a step toward Ben.
“Here we go, sweetheart. Grandma brought these just for you.”
She started pulling the top over Ben’s head, acting as though I wasn’t even there. Before I could say anything, Eric stepped in.
“Mom,” he said quietly, pulling the pajamas back off of Ben. His voice was calm, but there was steel underneath it. Carol looked up, startled.
“What are you doing?”
Eric crouched down to Ben’s level and smiled at him softly. “You don’t need to wear those, buddy.” He straightened up and turned to his mom. “Why didn’t you tell my wife and daughters about the pajama plan?”
Carol blinked, clearly caught off guard.
“What?”
“You heard me,” Eric said, his tone sharper now. “Why didn’t you tell all of us? Or was it on purpose?”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Eric,” Carol scoffed, waving her hand dismissively.
“I thought I texted her. Maybe it slipped my mind. It’s not a big deal.”
Eric’s jaw tightened.
“Not a big deal?” he repeated slowly. “You just told two little girls they don’t fit into a family photo because of pajamas you didn’t bother to tell their mother about. How is that not a big deal?”
Carol’s smile faltered.
“Well, I—”
Eric took a step forward. “You think it’s fine to humiliate my wife and daughters? You think I’ll stand here, dress Ben up, and pretend like none of this happened?
Not happening, Mom.”
The room was deathly silent. Everyone stared, frozen. “Eric, don’t,” one of his siblings muttered weakly.
“Just let it go. It’s Christmas.”
“No,” Eric said firmly. “This isn’t about Christmas.
It’s about basic decency. You all saw what just happened. Is anyone else okay with this?
Because if you are, I’d really love to hear it.”
No one spoke. Carol stood there, mouth open but silent, clearly not expecting to be called out. Eric turned to me then, his voice softer.
“C’mon,” he said, reaching for my hand. “If my family isn’t welcome, then neither am I.”
He scooped up Ben, who was staring wide-eyed at the tense scene, and nodded to Lily and Mia. “Let’s go.”
I looked around the room, searching for someone—anyone—to say something, to step up.
But all I saw were downcast eyes and awkward fidgeting. Carol finally found her voice. “Eric, you’re being ridiculous!” she snapped.
“You’re really going to leave over pajamas?”
Eric turned back to her. “No, Mom. I’m leaving because of how you treat my wife and daughters.
You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Carol’s face turned red, but Eric didn’t wait for her response. He ushered us toward the door, his voice steady and calm. “Let’s go home, guys.”
As Eric drove back, he gave me a small, tired smile.
“No one messes with my family.”
That evening, back at home, Eric set up the camera in their living room. The kids, still in their festive sweaters, sat close together on the couch. Eric wrapped an arm around Lily and Mia, while I held Ben on my lap.
The photo wasn’t perfect. Ben’s sock was missing, and Mia’s hair was slightly messy. But the smiles were real, full of love and warmth.
Eric posted it with the caption: “Family isn’t about matching outfits. It’s about love and respect.”
Carol never tried anything like that again. From that day forward, she knew there were lines she couldn’t cross.
Do you have any opinions on this? Source: amomama
