Your 15-year-old grandson, Marcus, is bright, funny, and capable. His teachers have told the family more than once that he could do extremely well if he applied himself.
But lately, Marcus seems perfectly content doing the bare minimum.
He rushes through homework, leaves chores unfinished, and spends hours playing video games or watching videos on his phone. When anyone mentions school or his future, he shrugs and says, “I’ll figure it out.”
You love him dearly, but watching him waste abilities you can so clearly see is becoming painful.
One Saturday afternoon, Marcus tells you he received a C on a science project because he started it the night before it was due.
You feel frustration rising.
You know he could have earned an A.
You also worry that if nobody pushes him now, he may develop habits that follow him into adulthood.
What should you say?
A. “Marcus, you’re wasting your talent. One day you’re going to regret being so lazy when everyone else has moved ahead of you.”
B. “You seem capable of much more than you’re putting into things lately. I’m curious, does the work feel boring, overwhelming, or just not very important to you right now?”
C. “You need more discipline. From now on, whenever you’re at my house, there will be no games or phone until your schoolwork is finished properly.”
D. Say nothing. Teenagers naturally go through lazy stages, and bringing it up may only create tension between you.
The Best Response: Curiosity Before Correction
When we love a grandchild, it can be surprisingly difficult to watch them fall short of what we know they can do.
We see their intelligence, creativity, humor, kindness, or natural gifts. We can imagine the opportunities ahead of them. And because we have lived long enough to understand how quickly certain doors can open, or close, it is tempting to shake them gently by the shoulders and say, “Please don’t waste this!”
That feeling comes from love.
But the way we express that love matters enormously.
In this situation, B is the best response because it combines confidence in Marcus with curiosity about what may be happening underneath his behavior.
Rather than immediately labeling him lazy, Grandma communicates two important messages: I see your ability, and I want to understand you.
That combination can open a door that criticism often closes.
Why A May Push Him Away
Option A, telling Marcus that he is wasting his talent and will regret being lazy—is understandable.
Many grandmothers grew up in families where direct warnings were considered loving guidance. And sometimes young people truly do need to hear that their choices have consequences.
The problem is the word lazy.
Labels can quickly become identities, especially during adolescence. Marcus may hear far more than Grandma intends.
Instead of hearing, “You are capable of more,” he may hear, “Grandma thinks I’m a disappointment.”
And predictions such as “Everyone else will move ahead of you” may stir shame or defensiveness rather than motivation.
A teenager who feels judged is often less likely to explain what is really happening.
He may simply shrug, argue, or retreat into his phone.
The goal is not merely to make Marcus feel bad enough to work harder. The deeper goal is to help him understand himself and begin taking responsibility for his own choices.
Why B Opens the Conversation
Option B says, “You seem capable of much more than you’re putting into things lately. I’m curious—does the work feel boring, overwhelming, or just not very important to you right now?”
This response is powerful because it separates Marcus the person from Marcus’s current behavior.
Grandma does not say, “You are lazy.”
She says, in effect, “I’ve noticed something has changed.”
Then she asks what might be behind it.
That distinction matters.
What looks like laziness can sometimes be boredom. It can also be fear of failure, poor organization, discouragement, lack of confidence, social stress, sleep deprivation, perfectionism, or simply the normal teenage struggle to connect today’s responsibilities with tomorrow’s consequences.
Sometimes, of course, a teenager really is choosing entertainment over effort.
But even then, curiosity is often more effective than accusation.
If Marcus says, “Science is just boring,” Grandma can ask, “What would make it feel worth doing well?”
If he says, “I didn’t know where to start,” she has learned something important.
If he says, “I just didn’t care,” that too becomes the beginning of a meaningful conversation about choices, consequences, and responsibility.
Curiosity does not mean lowering expectations.
In fact, it can make expectations more effective because Marcus is more likely to hear them.
Grandma might eventually say, “I don’t expect you to be perfect, sweetheart. But I do hope you’ll learn not to give away opportunities simply because something takes effort.”
That is very different from calling him lazy.
Why C Oversteps Grandma’s Role
Option C, creating strict rules about phones, games, and homework, may seem practical.
Structure can absolutely help teenagers. Parents may decide that screen time comes after responsibilities, and that can be perfectly reasonable.
But Grandma should be thoughtful about taking over the role of disciplinarian, especially when the issue involves school expectations and household rules.
Unless Marcus’s parents have asked Grandma to enforce a particular system, suddenly imposing her own academic discipline may create unnecessary conflict.
It may also shift the relationship.
Instead of Grandma being a trusted adult Marcus can talk with, she becomes one more person monitoring his performance.
Grandparents often have a unique gift: they can influence children without carrying every responsibility of parenting.
That position can be extraordinarily valuable.
A grandchild who rolls his eyes when Mom says, “You need to apply yourself,” may listen very differently when Grandma quietly says, “I know you have something special in you, and I’d hate to see you underestimate yourself.”
Influence often works better than control.
Why D Misses an Opportunity
Option D, saying nothing, protects the peace, but it may also miss an important moment.
Yes, teenagers go through phases.
And yes, grandparents do not need to comment on every disappointing grade, messy bedroom, forgotten chore, or questionable choice.
Constant correction can damage closeness.
But there is a difference between nagging and caring conversation.
Marcus has just admitted that he earned a lower grade because he waited until the last minute. Grandma does not need to lecture him, but she can gently invite reflection.
Silence may communicate acceptance when what Marcus really needs is someone who believes he is capable of more.
The Loving Middle Ground
One of the hardest lessons in grandparenting is learning the difference between seeing a grandchild’s potential and trying to manage that potential for them.
We can encourage.
We can ask questions.
We can tell stories from our own lives.
We can remind them that effort matters.
But eventually, a growing child must decide what kind of person he wants to become.
And sometimes the wisest thing a grandmother can do is help him hear his own thoughts clearly enough to make that decision.
When you notice a grandchild drifting, begin with curiosity.
Ask what feels difficult.
Ask what matters to them.
Ask what they want for themselves.
Then listen longer than you lecture.
Your grandchild may not immediately become more motivated. He may still procrastinate. He may still make mistakes you wish he could avoid.
But if he learns that Grandma is someone who sees both his potential and his humanity, he is far more likely to come back to her when he is finally ready to grow.
And that trusting relationship may influence his future more than any lecture ever could.