Every year, my in-laws put together a two-week vacation at their gorgeous estate, bringing all the grandchildren together. With a pool, lush gardens, and even hired entertainers, it’s hard to imagine a better setup.
This year, my son finally turned six — the age deemed “old enough” to be included — and he was over the moon. His cousins had talked endlessly about how amazing the trip was, making it sound like a dream come true.
It felt like a perfect arrangement: Timmy would have the time of his life, and my husband and I would get a rare two-week break — while still planning to check in with him daily, of course.
So, when we dropped Timmy off at my mother-in-law Betsy’s house, we truly believed he’d be just as happy as the other kids.
But things didn’t go quite as we expected.
On the second day, I got a call from Timmy — unusual for him to reach out first.
“Mom, come get me from Grandma’s,” he said quietly.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I asked, assuming he might just be a little homesick.
