There’s always one relative at every family gathering who acts like social norms are just guidelines, suggestions, really—best tossed aside for maximum personal gain. Meet 19-year-old Bella, a cousin who treats graduation parties like a clearance sale, except the items have sentimental value and her «discount» involves helping herself for free. The ink on that college degree is barely dry when Bella swoops in, eyeing the cards and cash with all the finesse of someone who’s never heard of boundaries, or shame, or, apparently, personal property.

Not content with just window shopping, Bella starts pocketing gift cards—Starbucks, Target, you name it, offering up logic worthy of a villainious toddler: obviously, older relatives don’t drink coffee, and obviously, starting a job means post-grad adulthood is basically a license to print money. When confronted, she dials up the drama and sprints to her mother, a woman whose parenting style seems to be «well, why not?» rather than «put that back before you embarrass us further.»

Instead of the expected apology, there’s a shrug, a weak defense, and an awkward silence only broken when the actual adult in the room—your own mom—steps in and puts an end to Bella’s free-for-all. 

Life after graduation comes with enough surprises—having to defend your own presents from ambitious relatives shouldn’t be one of them.