When my stepdaughter Brooke got married, Gary and I did everything in our power to make her big day flawless. We’d paid her college tuition, hosted the vineyard wedding she’d always dreamed of, and even arranged a breathtaking honeymoon villa in the Dominican Republic—complete with a private pool and sweeping ocean views.
But the morning after she arrived, my phone buzzed with an angry call from her. “This place is tiny,” she snapped. “The pool is pathetic, and the beach is a whole five-minute walk. You two are honestly so cheap.” Gary was speechless. After all we had given her, she was upset simply because the villa didn’t live up to her extravagant standards.
Instead of engaging in a fight, I stayed calm—and phoned the villa staff. I switched their reservation to a simple hotel room nearby. No ocean view. No private pool.