My grandson made me sleep on a yoga mat while he took a huge bed — and less than 24 hours later, karma caught up.
At 87, I’m not easily shaken, but Tyler’s coldness still cut deep. I raised him after his mother died and his father disappeared. Now 32, he avoids responsibility, lives for free, and hides behind “spirituality” — energy talk, chanting, yoga, yet no real work.
He invited me and Willow to Charleston, and I hoped for warmth. Instead, he refused me a guest bed because it might “disturb his energy,” handing me a thin yoga mat for the hallway. “It might recharge you, Grandma,” he said.
They slept in comfort while I battled the hard floor. By morning, he barely acknowledged me — until karma struck. Within an hour, he was on his knees apologizing, and my dignity finally felt restored.