My Teenage Son Spent Grandma's Funeral Savings on a Game — The Family Taught Him a Lesson

When Judy discovers that her teenage son has been stealing and using his grandmother's money to satisfy his gaming addiction, she has no choice but to teach him a lesson that he will never forget.

I've always heard about there being one child in every family who just goes overboard and does stupid things.

I didn't expect my son to be that child in our family.

My teenage son, Brandon, like most teenage boys his age, had gotten into gaming. And whenever a new game came out, he would get obsessed over it and watch the trailers, begging me to buy it.

"It's ridiculous, Brandon," I would say firmly. "I'm not giving you money for stupid games."

But he was as persistent as they came. And when the latest version of his favorite game came out, he would whine and plead daily.

"Please, Mom," he would ask at every opportunity. "Please, just this game and I won't ask for anything else."

"Brandon, I've already said no," I would say. "Please, stop nagging. This discussion is over."

Then, a week ago, the whining stopped. Brandon retreated to his room and was stuck behind his computer again, talk of the game long forgotten.

I was relieved, thinking that he had finally moved past this phase.

"I don't know how else to tell him that we cannot spend money on video games," I told my husband, Liam.

"I know," he agreed. "It's time that Brandon realizes that there's more to life than just sitting behind a computer. And if he insists on it, then it's time to get a part-time job to pay for his games."

Everything seemed fine as we settled back into our routine.

Until I received a panicked call from my mom.

"My savings for the funeral! They disappeared!" Her voice trembled with fear and confusion. "Judy, they're gone!"

Now, I should probably explain this part:

My mother is as eccentric as they come. And for the past three years, she has gotten it into her head that she needs to save up for her funeral. She's healthy as can be, but it's something that she does as a comfort.

"It's not my fault, Judy," she would say. "Some of my friends are passing away now, and I have to be prepared, too."

She would pick up her paintbrushes and splash wet paint all over her studio as she spoke.

"And it's okay if you think I'm crazy, darling," she would continue. "But at the end of the day, I have to do what gives me peace of mind."

Since then, my mother had been putting away money each month.

"Where are you storing it, Mom?" I asked her one day. "Please tell me that you have a separate bank account."

"No, Judy," she replied, her eyes wide. "Then we definitely won't get it out in time for you to use for my funeral. No, it's in a little wooden box under my bed."

"That's not safe, Mom," I replied. "Anyone could get to it!"

"My neighborhood is safe, darling," she said. "Don't you worry about that. I just need you to know where it is when you need it. You know, when the time comes."

Little did I know, my son had heard this entire conversation.

"Calm down, Mom. I'm sure that there's an explanation for this," I said, trying to soothe her.

It took hours to calm her down, and every time I thought she was okay, she would burst into tears all over again.

"I should have listened to you, Judy," she cried. "Keeping the money lying around was a very stupid thing to do."

But as I hung up, I knew two things: who was at fault and what I was going to do.

A week earlier, Liam and I had gone away for the weekend to celebrate our anniversary, and we had left Brandon with my mother.

He had been present when my mother and I had the conversation about her savings and the little wooden box that held it.

I could remember him sitting at her kitchen table, eating the cookies she had made for him, and listening intently to the conversation.

"Gran is really worried about dying?" he asked me in the car.

"It's normal for her to be worried," I replied.

Now, I pieced together the story quickly. Brandon must have thought that my mother wouldn't notice the missing money. Or maybe he did, but he didn't care about the consequences.

All he had wanted was to satisfy his gaming obsession.

"Brandon, do you know anything about Grandma's missing money?" I asked him later that evening as we cooked dinner together.

My son's face paled in front of me.

"No, why would I know anything about that?" he replied, a little too quickly. "Gran didn't tell me."

By that point, I was certain that it was him. His tone was all off, and I had offered him a chance to confess.

The following weekend, he begged to spend the night at my mother's house.

"Please, Mom," he said. "I'm sure Gran isn't feeling too safe at the moment."

I allowed it, thinking that he'd try to sneak the money back.

And sure enough, when I went to pick him up, my mother opened the door beaming.

"You'll never guess what!" she said, pulling me into a tight hug.

"What happened?" I asked, curiosity taking over me.

"Last night, after Brandon and I had dinner, he asked me about the money and said that he wanted to check my room," she said.

"Oh, he said that, huh?" I asked.

"Yes! And he found it! He said that I must have misplaced it, and I guess that maybe I did. Most of it is there, except for about $100, but I could have used that on my nails last week for all I know."

"I'm glad you found it, Mom," I said earnestly, but inside, I was seething.

The plan was simple. I texted Liam and told him everything, asking him to call for a family meeting later that evening. We needed to teach Brandon a lesson that he wouldn't forget any time soon.

After dinner, Liam stood up.

"We need to have a family meeting now," he said. "It's important. Don't worry about the dishes, love, we can do it later."

Brandon and I followed Liam into the living room and we sat down.

"Brandon, Gran told me about you finding her money last night. Her memory seems to be going, doesn't it? Maybe we should consider a nursing home?"

Liam nodded his head slowly.

"Look, Judy, I know that it's painful to think about. But maybe that will be the best thing, if she's worried about her memory."

"What? No! She's fine!" Brandon protested, his eyes wide with panic.

"Well, she's lost her money once. What if it's her keys or she forgets to take her medication or put the stove off?" my husband added, playing his part perfectly.

My son's face turned a deep shade of red.

"She didn't lose the money! It was there all along!" he said.

"So, you're saying that Grandma's lying?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I'm saying that maybe she's just confused," he said, squirming in his seat.

"If she's that confused, then maybe a nursing home is best," I replied.

"I'll make some calls tomorrow," my husband said.

Finally, Brandon's façade crumbled.

"Okay, okay! I took the money! I'm sorry! But I just wanted to buy my game. I didn't think that it would cause so much trouble."

We let him sit in silence for a moment, the weight of his confession hanging in the air.

"Brandon, stealing is wrong. And lying about it makes it worse," I said softly. "You're going to have to make this right."

"I know," he said. "I'm sorry. I'll get a summer job and pay Grandma back. I promise."

"That's a start," I said. "But you also need to apologize to Grandma. And you're going to tell her the truth. Not me. And you're grounded from using your computer until you've paid back every cent. Do you understand?"

Brandon nodded, tears streaming down his face.

"I will, I promise. I'll get a job at the ice cream place and I'll make everything right."

Of course, he had no other choice.

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here's another one for you.

My Kids Listed My House on Airbnb While I Was in the Hospital — I Found a Way to Teach Them a Lesson

Mariah had been feeling less than healthy lately, causing her to admit herself to the hospital so that she could have a check-up. But in her absence, her children decided to rent out her house as an Airbnb, ready to pocket the money for themselves. When Mariah found out, she decided to teach them a lesson.

"I want you to tell Denise to book it," I said. "But they'll recognize that it's her, so she's probably going to need to create a new account. Do you think she'll be okay with that?"

"Of course, she will!" Liz said. "Anything for you. But then what?"

"I'm getting discharged tomorrow," I said. "But the kids think that I'll be here until the end of the week. So, let them think that they're going to make some money off the place."

"You want Denise to rent the place, but you want to mess it up?" Liz chuckled. "That's devious."

"No, my children are devious," I said.

I hung up the call, and the nurse brought my lunch to me, ready to leave me alone to eat while she did her rounds.

Read the full story here.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided "as is," and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.