Norma and Sonia were enjoying their post-holiday coffee, swapping stories about gift receipts, wrapping disasters, and what their grandchildren had done with the boxes instead of the actual presents. You know, typical grandma gossip.
Norma stirred her tea with the intensity of someone reliving deep emotional trauma. “You know, Sonia,” she said with a dramatic sigh, “my daughter-in-law has stopped making the kids send ‘thank you’ notes.”
Sonia gasped. “You mean… they just receive gifts without sending anything back? Not even a scribbled ‘thx’ on a napkin?”
Norma nodded gravely. “Each year, I sent thoughtful presents. Toys, books, that oddly popular slime stuff. And what do I get in return? Silence. Digital silence. Not even an emoji.”
Sonia clutched her pearls. “No emoji?! Not even the little heart with sparkles?”
Norma shook her head. “Nothing. Last year, I gave little Max a handmade sweater with dinosaurs wearing sunglasses. Took me two months and three YouTube tutorials. He didn’t say a word.”
Sonia leaned in. “What did you do?”
Norma sipped her tea like a woman plotting revenge. “I did what any loving, disappointed grandmother would do. This year, I sent empty boxes.”
“Empty?”
“Completely. One was filled with packing peanuts and a note that said, ‘Pretend it’s the toy you never thanked me for.’”
Sonia burst out laughing, nearly spilling her coffee. “Norma! That’s brilliant!”
“Oh, I wasn’t done,” Norma said, eyes twinkling. “Another box had a single sock with a note: ‘The other sock is waiting for your gratitude.’ And the third package had a photo of me holding the gifts I would have sent—with a speech bubble saying, ‘This could’ve been yours!’”
Sonia wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “Did they respond this time?”
Norma smirked. “Oh, they wrote the nicest thank-you notes I’ve ever received. Max even drew a dinosaur wearing three pairs of sunglasses. I think he got the message.”
From then on, Norma became known as the Thank-You Note Ninja. Her daughter-in-law started a family policy: No thank-you note? No gifts next year.
The moral? Gratitude isn’t old-fashioned—it’s just fashionable with the right amount of grandma sass.
