I’m still shaking as I write this. My three-year-old daughter is asleep in the next room, recovering from a severe allergic reaction that landed her in the ER two nights ago. And the people responsible? My in-laws. My husband’s parents. The ones who insisted they knew better than me about my own child’s allergies. The ones who deliberately fed her known allergens to “prove” I was being overprotective. Now I’ve told them they can never see my children again, and my husband is caught in the middle, furious that I’ve “overreacted.” Reddit, AITA?
Let me start from the beginning. I’m 32F, married to my husband “David” (35M) for eight years. We have two kids: Lily (3F) and Ethan (1M). Lily has severe food allergies—peanuts, tree nuts, shellfish, and eggs. We’ve known about the peanut allergy since she was nine months old when she had her first reaction to a trace amount of peanut butter puff cereal at daycare. It was anaphylaxis: hives, vomiting, swelling, difficulty breathing. EpiPen, ER visit, the whole terrifying ordeal.
Since then, we’ve been religious about her allergies. She has a medical alert bracelet. Her preschool has an allergy action plan. We carry two EpiPens everywhere. Every birthday party, playdate, family gathering—we bring safe snacks, inform everyone, supervise every bite. It’s exhausting, but it’s our reality. Lily knows her allergies well for a three-year-old. She can say “no nuts for Lily” and recognizes most unsafe foods. We’ve worked hard to make her feel empowered rather than scared.
David’s parents, “Carol” (62F) and “Robert” (65M), have never fully accepted Lily’s allergies. From the beginning, they’ve questioned them. “Are you sure it’s that serious?” “Maybe she’s outgrown it.” “In my day, we didn’t have all these allergies.” “You’re making her a picky eater.” Classic denial from older generations who think modern medicine is overreacting.
We’ve had multiple conversations—calm ones, firm ones, angry ones—explaining the risks. We’ve shown them her allergy test results (off the charts for IgE levels). We’ve let them talk to her allergist. We’ve sent articles from the American Academy of Allergy, Asthma & Immunology. Nothing works. They smile and nod, then “forget” at the next gathering.
The incident happened at a family barbecue at their house two days ago. It was David’s cousin’s engagement party—about 30 people, mix of family and friends. Lily was excited to see her cousins and play in the backyard. We arrived with her safe snacks: fruit, Goldfish crackers, a cupcake from a nut-free bakery for dessert. As always, I reminded Carol and Robert: “No nuts, no shellfish, no eggs for Lily. She can have plain hot dogs, watermelon, chips.”
They waved me off. “We know, we know. She’s fine.” Lily was happily playing while David helped grill. I was chatting with relatives, keeping one eye on her as always. Ethan was napping in his portable crib inside.
About 45 minutes in, Carol called Lily over for a “special treat.” I was mid-conversation but saw Lily run excitedly to the patio table. Carol handed her something wrapped in a napkin—a cookie. Lily took a big bite before I could reach her.
“Carol, what’s that?” I asked, heart already sinking.
“Just a little sugar cookie from the bakery. No nuts!”
I grabbed it from Lily’s hand. It was a peanut butter cookie. The telltale texture, the smell. I could see the jar of peanut butter on the counter behind Carol—Skippy, smooth.
“Are you insane? I told you NO NUTS!”
Carol rolled her eyes. “It’s a sugar cookie. Look at her—she’s fine!”
Lily started coughing. Her face flushed red. Hives appeared on her cheeks. She dropped the other half of the cookie and started scratching her arms. “Itchy, Mommy. Tummy hurts.”
Chaos. I swept her up, grabbed an EpiPen from the diaper bag, jammed it into her thigh. David came running. Robert stood there frozen. Carol said, “She’s fine, you’re overreacting!”
Lily was wheezing. Eyes swelling. Lips turning blue. David drove us to the ER while I held her in the backseat, monitoring her breathing. Second EpiPen on the way when symptoms didn’t fully resolve. ER gave her more epinephrine, steroids, Benadryl. Six hours of observation. They released us at midnight with prescriptions and strict instructions.
Lily is okay now. Bruised from the EpiPens, hoarse voice, still some residual rash. But she could have died. A three-year-old could have died because her grandmother fed her a peanut butter cookie after being explicitly told not to.
David called his parents from the ER waiting room. I could hear Carol’s voice on speaker: “You always make such a big deal out of everything. She took one bite! She’s perfectly fine!”
“She’s in the EMERGENCY ROOM, Mom! Because of what you did!”
“It was an accident! How was I supposed to know?”
“You KNEW. We told you an hour earlier. You watched me bring safe snacks. You did this deliberately.”
Robert got on the phone: “Son, your wife is hysterical. Lily’s fine. Come back to the party.”
David hung up on them.
We got home, got Lily settled. David and I had our first real fight about this. He was angry—at his parents, but also frustrated with me for wanting to cut them off completely.
“They’re your parents,” he said. “They made a mistake. A bad one, yes, but they’re not monsters.”
“A mistake? They KNEW her allergies. They SAW me bring safe food. They handed her a peanut butter cookie wrapped in a napkin to hide what it was. That’s not a mistake—that’s deliberate endangerment.”
He admitted they were reckless, but said they’re elderly, set in their ways, and cutting them off forever is too harsh. “They love Lily. They wouldn’t hurt her on purpose.”
I showed him the cookie wrapper I’d saved. It clearly said “Peanut Butter Blossom” on the package. “They bought peanut butter cookies knowing Lily was coming. They hid it in a napkin. That’s not love. That’s wanting to prove me wrong.”
David slept on the couch. The next morning, I texted Carol and Robert: “Lily nearly died because of your deliberate actions. You’ve endangered her repeatedly despite knowing her allergies. You are no longer allowed contact with my children. Ever.”
Carol responded immediately: “How DARE you keep our grandchildren from us! You’re an overprotective monster! Lily was fine after one bite! We have rights!”
Robert called David at work: “Your wife has lost her mind. We’re calling CPS if you let her do this.”
David came home early. We fought again. He thinks I’m being unreasonable, that we should limit contact but not cut them off completely. He wants supervised visits only, with him present. I said no—if they can’t be trusted with basic food safety, they can’t be around my kids unsupervised OR supervised. What if they “forget” medications? Driving? A swimming pool?
David accused me of parental alienation. Said I’m punishing them too harshly for a mistake. Said Lily needs her grandparents. I pointed out that grandparents who try to kill you aren’t grandparents you need.
We went to family counseling yesterday (emergency session). The therapist was horrified by Carol and Robert’s actions. She said deliberately feeding a known allergen to a child with anaphylactic allergies is child endangerment, potentially criminal. She recommended no contact until they demonstrate genuine understanding of the severity and take allergy safety training.
David pushed back: “They’re not going to admit they were wrong. They’ll never take a class. Are we never going to see them again?”
Therapist: “Your wife’s boundary isn’t about punishment. It’s about safety. Your parents crossed a line from ignorance to deliberate risk-taking. Trust has been destroyed.”
David slept on the couch again.
Now the extended family is involved. Carol and Robert have told everyone I’m “hysterical,” “abusive,” “keeping the children from their loving grandparents.” David’s sister “Megan” called me, torn. She saw the whole thing and knows they deliberately gave Lily the cookie. She thinks they deserve consequences but worries about family implosion.
David’s aunt emailed me a long lecture about forgiveness, family unity, and how allergies are “overblown.” She CC’d the whole family.
My parents (Lily’s biological grandparents) are livid on my behalf. They want nothing to do with David’s parents ever again. My mom said, “Those people tried to murder your child. Cut them off.”
David’s mom showed up at our house yesterday with flowers and a stuffed animal for Lily. I didn’t open the door. She stood on the porch yelling that I’m “stealing her grandchildren” and “ruining her legacy.” Neighbors saw. Humiliating.
David came home to find her crying in our driveway. He comforted her, then came inside furious at me for “making a scene.” I told him if he can’t support my boundary, we have a bigger problem.
Last night was rock bottom. Lily woke up crying from a nightmare about the hospital. She said, “Gamma gave me yucky cookie. It hurt.” David held her, sobbing. For the first time, he said, “I think you’re right. They went too far.”
But this morning, Carol called. David answered. She cried about missing the kids, said she was “sorry if she got scared,” but still insisted it wasn’t serious. David hung up and said maybe we should reconsider.
I’m done. I’ve changed the house locks (just in case). Packed up their gifts to the kids. Blocked all their numbers on my phone. Told our preschool Lily’s grandparents are Carol and [my mom], not David’s parents.
David and I are sleeping in separate rooms. He’s torn between loyalty to his parents and safety of his child. I feel alone in protecting my kids.
The lawyer I consulted yesterday says I can pursue a restraining order if they continue harassment. Child services would side with me if called. Allergists confirm this was deliberate exposure, not accident.
Reddit, AITA for banning my in-laws from seeing my grandkids forever after they deliberately fed my allergic child a peanut butter cookie to prove her allergies weren’t real? Or is David right that I’m overreacting?
UPDATE 1 (2 days later): Thank you for the overwhelming support. Lily is fully recovered physically, but has separation anxiety now. Won’t let me out of sight. Heartbreaking.
David read top comments. Went pale. Called his parents. They doubled down: “We didn’t know it was peanut butter!” (LIE—the wrapper was right there). “One bite can’t hurt!” (DOCTOR SAYS IT NEARLY KILLED HER). “You’re all brainwashed by her!”
David told them therapy or no contact. They refused. Said they’d “fight for their rights.”
David’s now on board with no contact. Sleeping in our bed again. Said seeing Lily’s fear broke him. We’re united.
Family still harassing. David’s aunt posted on Facebook about “grieving grandparents.” I commented with allergy facts and ER bill photo (redacted). Comments exploded. Aunt deleted post.
Therapy continues. Lawyer prepping restraining order paperwork.
UPDATE 2 (1 week later): Restraining order granted. Carol violated by sending gifts via neighbor. Police involved. She’s furious, calling everyone.
Lily’s preschool banned grandparents from pickup. All good.
David’s sister Megan cut parents off too. Said enough is enough.
Credit to everyone who said NTA. You were right. Child safety first.
