The world is full of rude, manipulative, self-absorbed people: psychotic mothers-in-law, self-centered karens, or just your regular, run-of-the-mill jerks. They might ruin your day when you come face to face with one of them—but from the safety of our screens, we can enjoy knowing that no matter what we do, we’ll never be as awful as THESE people.
This happened about an hour ago. I was grocery shopping and decided to pick up a few bars of chocolates, which is when I heard the ear-piercing scream of what can only be an entitled kid. He looked like he was somewhere between five and six years of age. He began to violently pull on his mother’s arm, pointing at my chocolate bars and yelling at her to buy him some.
Then the mom said something that made me want to scream: “Did you have to pick that up in front of him?” Me: Ummm…What??? Mom: Can’t you see it’s upsetting my child? Me: Well, that’s a you problem. Mom: (In between trying to get her demon spawn to act like a human being) You need to put them back. My son only started demanding chocolates when he saw you take them. Just put them back. Now! You can get some later. You shouldn’t make kids jealous!
I just smiled at her and approached the chocolate shelves. But instead of putting them back, I actually took a few more. It earned me a glare from her and earned her another round of tantrums from the kid. Petty? Yes. Satisfying? Heck yes!
I am half white and half Asian. My dad is Dutch, my mom is Singaporean (Chinese). We’ve been living in the US for almost 20 years now, and we moved when I was five. So, I met my boyfriend’s mom a few weeks back, and it went okay I guess. A few days ago, however, I found out she’s Facebook stalked me and found a picture of me with my dad at a black-tie event.
I was holding his arm. The Asian features really came through with me, so I don’t really “look” like my dad. We meet again, and halfway through the conversation she casually goes, “So where’s your sugar daddy?” The conversation stops. I’m just like, “I don’t have one?” She pulls up my Facebook profile and shows me the picture with me and my father.
I just laugh it off and explain that’s my dad. She then asks me whether I was adopted. I again laugh it off. She lets it go for a while, but she brings it up again! “Well, I hope your dad did a DNA test when you were born.” At this point, I’m just like, what is up with this woman? Maybe I just had a really sheltered upbringing, but I’ve never met anyone who was this brand of weird.
I tell her very plainly that I don’t appreciate her insinuating that my mother cheated on my father, and then I left. That night, I get messages from my boyfriend saying, “I took a joke too seriously” and “She was just making fun of the fact you don’t really look that much like him.” Yeah bud, I don’t think she was joking. I don’t think she was joking at all.
I quit drinking soda and energy drinks a few months ago and I replaced that habit with drinking Martinelli’s Sparkling Apple Juice. The juice comes in 10 oz. glass bottles that look very similar to Corona bottles. Here lies my issue: This morning I was walking to my car from my apartment and I had a bottle of my juice in one hand and my one-year-old daughter, in her car seat, in the other hand.
My neighbors basically jumped me from behind. One grabbed my daughter’s car seat and the other was punching, kicking, and yelling at me. I’ve never been so furious. He was saying stuff like, “The nerve of you to drink and try to drive with your baby.” As a result, my juice bottle shattered in the parking lot, cutting my hand, my cell phone’s screen is destroyed, and I think my nose is fractured.
Most importantly, the neighbor who took my baby went inside his apartment with her and it took 10 minutes of me explaining through the screen door that I was not about drink and drive, but that I WAS DRINKING APPLE JUICE. This all just happened. By the way, I didn’t get any apologies or anything from the neighbors. They said they were doing their “duty” to protect the community.
I called the authorities, and as soon as they pulled up more than a half dozen neighbors came out and gave witness reports.
While I was in high school, I was the reigning city fencing champion in both the youth and adult tournaments. My high school decided to do a school-wide fencing unit for Phys. Ed. and the coach they brought in to teach all of the students was my actual coach. During my classes, my coach naturally brought me up to help demonstrate the various moves.
However, for some reason one of my classmates didn’t understand that I wasn’t chosen at random. He started talking about how I looked like I didn’t know what I was doing, and how he could probably completely cream me in a duel. Now, he actually was pretty good for a guy who’d never fenced before, and at the first opportunity, he decided to have a go at me. If he wasn’t such a jerk about it, maybe I’d have gone easy on him—but he deserved what I had planned for him. It was about to go down.
I picked him apart, not giving up a single touch, and used the opportunity to practice my parry and ripostes. I admit I took a bit of sadistic pleasure in thoroughly beating him. Afterward, my coach made a point of congratulating the other guy for doing so well against the city champ. The look on his face is one of my fondest memories.
My boyfriend has mobility issues and uses either a wheelchair or crutches depending on his pain levels. I’ve done a lot of home improvement projects to ensure he can get around my house easily, including a wheelchair ramp up to my front door. My front door is really recessed from the street due to my lawn and hidden by my porch, so the ramp isn’t very visible from the street.
I painted it to match the house as well. A few months ago, a new family moved across the street and the wife’s never been very friendly with me like my other neighbors are, which I chalked up to her being shy or whatever. However, recently I got a note taped up to my door. Its contents made me want to scream. It said she’s going to sue if I don’t take the ramp down, as it’s an eyesore and “reduces curbside value.”
I have no idea what she means since you can’t see the thing unless you know what to look for and really get up in my property, as confirmed by neighbors and friends. She refused to answer the door when I went over to talk to her about it. I’m trying not to lose my temper over this but it’s hard. There have been many times my boyfriend has been screwed over by so-called “handicap accessible” places, and I don’t want my home to be one of them.
Okay. So my sister graduated from high school last year and decided to take a gap year. She came across a Craigslist posting by a woman I’ll refer to as “Aileen” about how she has a farm and she’s looking for kids who want life experience. She said that she’ll provide them room and board to work on her farm and how she can teach them all of these great skills.
I never saw the ad, but I remember my sister telling me about it at the time. She was very excited, this opportunity was everything she had been looking for, she had told me. So she began a correspondence with “Aileen.” I did not live with my sister, I’m older by five years so I was not on the scene when all of this was going down. Later, I wish I had warned her.
So she ends up going to this place last August, I think, maybe early September. I have only spoken with her through emails since and at first she was happy, everything was good, she was making friends and all of that. I was wondering why she only emailed and she told me there’s no phone service on the ranch, since “Aileen” doesn’t believe in phones and she takes them to the library for internet access.
That right there was the first time I thought something was a bit off, but my sister was happy so I didn’t push it. Over time, the tone of her emails changed. She would talk about her friends there, the animals, all these activities she was doing, but not about “Aileen” much. Then something switched. It gradually became that “Aileen” is all she would talk about.
“Aileen” was telling her some seriously messed up stuff and if she didn’t agree with it, everyone else would ignore her existence until she broke down crying and apologized. “Aileen” made her slaughter her favorite chicken, “Aileen” said she needed to cleanse herself and wouldn’t let her eat solid food for a week. “Aileen” made her take drugs. Seriously disturbing stuff.
I told her she needed to get out of there, that I’d come pick her up, but she would downplay everything, make excuses for “Aileen,” say she was overreacting, that it wasn’t as bad as she made it seem, etc. I didn’t know what to do at that point. I thought something hinky was going on, but at the same time my sister was an adult and I trusted her judgment at the time.
It’s not like I had anything to go off of, a location or anything, and while disturbing, I didn’t think anything super egregious was happening. “Aileen” seemed like an eccentric survivalist type, but ultimately harmless. Yes, I was tentatively concerned, is what I’m trying to say, but I felt like my sister was mature and intelligent enough to know when she was in over her head. I was so, so wrong.
My sister emailed me yesterday and I don’t feel like that is the case anymore. Something had happened and from what I was able to ascertain, one of the other girls at this place committed some kind of cardinal sin and “Aileen” instructed the other kids to viciously beat this girl. My sister was forced to participate in this. She seemed distraught about it but ultimately blamed the girl because she should have known better than to have done what she did.
I don’t know what she did, my sister wouldn’t elaborate on it. I stayed up all night poring over all of her emails, looking for some clue to where she was but I couldn’t figure anything out. I know my sister took a Greyhound to Lansing, Michigan and Aileen picked her up from the bus station, so I think this freak show is probably in either Eaton, or Ingham but as to more specifics, I have no idea.
I don’t think my sister even knows. I have a hunch they’re in or around Mason because Aileen made the kids spend the night at Seven Gables. However, I did find out she uses the library in Mason through the IP address, and I’m going to contact the authorities.
I just moved and it was just me and a couple of friends unloading, so we left some things on the street next to the moving truck while we did heavier items like desks, shelves, etc. as a team. I came out after bringing in some more boxes (I had been gone roughly 15 minutes)—and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I find a guy had loaded my couch into the bed of his truck. I ran up to him and explained I own the couch.
He said since it was on the street corner, it’s public property and he’s within his rights to take it. He drove off before I could block his car. I did get his license plate and went to the station make a report, but they asked me if it was in fact on the curb. I said it was, but it was also pretty obviously next to a moving truck, and it was wrapped up and surrounded by boxes.
They didn’t say anything that inspired hope. The couch has been in the family for three generations now and while it probably isn’t worth more than a few hundred bucks, it is sentimentally priceless.
We’re in a small neighborhood of about five homes. It’s a very small cul-de-sac area in the middle of farmland. There aren’t other homes or buildings for about two miles. I have three young, elementary-aged children that all have a very serious case of epilepsy. It does not take much to cause an episode. By some luck, two of our neighbor’s kids also have epilepsy, and are also around the same age as our kids.
For the past few years they have been able to successfully group together and go to the end of our community to catch the bus. The family who used to own the house at the street recently moved out, and there is a new owner who has been an absolute jerk to everyone. From the second day on, he has harassed our kids, telling them to get off his property, even though they were technically on a public road.
Through the grapevine he somehow learned that a majority of the kids were epileptic. His response was utterly chilling. He has now installed strobe lights on his front lawn. These are VERY powerful, VERY fast lights that you cannot avoid walking by. We’ve contacted the authorities but they won’t even come out to talk to the guy.
We’ve contacted the school to see if they could come into the neighborhood to pick up our kids, and they really can’t. The bus just couldn’t drive into our neighborhood and easily back out. They have to be picked up on the street. So, yeah, we are now going to have to go to court over this, and I am so so enraged. This guy is gonna get everything that’s coming to him.
My ex-husband and his new wife made my daughter a back brace out of wood and steel and forced her to wear it. Yes, really. But it’s even more messed up than it sounds. My daughter is nine and my ex-husband and I share custody by alternating weeks. My daughter says her back hurts now and her arm is tingling. I have a doctor’s appointment for her on Monday and in the meantime I am trying to remain calm.
I confronted my ex-husband about it and all he would say was one text message where he says his new wife didn’t like how my daughter slouched at the dinner table. They aren’t doctors and there’s nothing wrong with her that she needs a brace. I wanted to find a way I can get a quick court date or see a judge because I didn’t want her going back there.
One of my co-workers has a cousin who is a lawyer and she knew someone who was able to help me and file the paperwork. My husband played dumb in court but his visits got reduced to supervised and he was ordered to take a parenting class. My daughter went to physiotherapy. Eventually, the court reinstated his visitation when he swore he had learned his lesson and was sorry and with his otherwise clean record the court agreed. This was a huge mistake.
I was against it but the court ruled against me. In any case, I gave my daughter her own cell phone so she could call me whenever she needed to. On her second visit, it happened again. This time the brace had steel and fabric instead of wood and they took her phone too. The next night, she left when they weren’t looking and went up the street to a neighbor who is an officer.
The neighbor called paramedics and her co-workers. They had to cut the brace off my daughter. My husband and his wife were detained. They got out quickly but they have been charged and their infant is with CPS. My ex lost visitation and custody and I’m working on making it permanent. Unfortunately, my daughter’s shoulder was dislocated from the brace.
It sent her back to rehab and part of her arm is still numb and tingling. She needed surgery and is still recovering. She always played sports (especially at school) and did dance but the doctor thinks she won’t ever be able to lift her arm all the way up again. I hate my ex and he’ll see her again over my corpse. Right now I’m focusing on my daughter while my lawyer takes care of things.
I live in a small town in Wisconsin so law enforcement kind of knows everybody. But there’s this one officer who keeps pulling me over for the craziest and most asinine reasons, like I was too close to the curb or I stopped too close to the stop sign. He’s a young, attractive cop and I’m young and attractive as well, so I’m thinking he’s trying to flirt with me or something?
But the situations are so aggravating and the things he says and does seem like he’s intentionally trying to antagonize me so that I’ll say or do something out of anger and he’ll have an excuse to escalate the situation. But today he crossed the line. He pulled me over again under the guise that I wasn’t going the speed limit (it was 45 and I was going 50) and when he came to my car and said his usual stuff in the most condescending way, he said he had to search ME, not the car, because my car smelled funny.
My car smells like vanilla and I’ve never smoked anything in there so I know he was lying to me again. I told him that if he wants to search me he’ll have to get a female officer to do it, but he said if I don’t comply he’ll detain me. So I got out of the car. He told me to put my hands on my car so I did, and he just starts rubbing me up and down. Not even searching for anything, just rubbing me.
He went over my thighs twice, my lower back, and almost cupped my breasts. I was wearing a skin-tight skirt set, no pockets, and you could clearly see that I had nothing on me. I’m typing this like 30 minutes after it happened, I’m upset and angry and I feel violated. Is there any way I can get him in trouble for this? I have a GoPro in my car but I don’t know if it caught this on camera, as I didn’t check yet.
I worked with a guy who was supposed to be an expert in what we do. He would blast through jobs and hound our supervisor for more work. He would get through tasks a lot faster than I could and I didn’t understand how…until I had to support him one day and found out he was faking everything. He didn’t really do good work—anything he submitted was never up to our standards. When I confronted him about it, he got annoyed at me and insisted I had no idea what I was doing.
He thought he had the upper hand…until my supervisor swooped in. When he checked his product, he was reprimanded for doing a poor job. Then, I had to work with him to get him up to speed. After six months, he was still failing, and I was working on his projects as much as I was working on my own. I checked on some of his work, gave him a list of problems I saw, and he completely lost it and didn’t listen to me.
So I left him on his own. I told my bosses that I’d no longer be carrying him. They were getting ready to fire him, but he beat them to it and quit. He found another job where he could be a project supervisor for more money and better benefits. He failed there, too. We sent his new company a basket of muffins and a thank you note. I ended up getting the company car, a $5 an hour raise, and a bunch of other benefits.
I am at the park with my daughter and girlfriend, helping my daughter play on the slide. Meanwhile, this crazy kid is running around. Now, I am trying to make it a personal habit to always carry my Colt with me wherever I go. I fully conceal it as much as possible, but I’m guessing when I reached up to put my baby girl on the slide, the movement must have revealed it.
The next thing I know, I feel a tug at my shirt where my piece is, so I quickly turn around. It’s the crazy kid. The conversation goes as follows: Me: What’s up little buddy? Kid: Let me see your gun. We are playing cowboys and he doesn’t have one (points to friend) Me: No, no, sorry pal. No one can have this but me. It’s dangerous.
Kid: (looks angry, pretends to shoot me, and runs off). But this mess was just beginning. Soon I hear an “ahem.” Good lord, it’s his mother. Me: What? Mom: Why can’t my kid play with your toy? Me: What toy? Mom: The toy on your hip. Me: Um no sorry, this is real and dangerous. Mom: So just take the bullets out and let him play with it.
Me: How about NO. Mom: (baffled look) Well, I never. What’s the harm of him playing with it if it’s unloaded? Me: I’m sure you haven’t. Loaded or not, I’m not letting a child play with a weapon you halfwit. Don’t you have someone else’s business to mind? What an annoying encounter that put a damper on my already sour day. Some people…
My boyfriend’s cousin has four children. Each of her kids is the personification of the word bratty. The cousin refuses to discipline them and constantly makes excuses for their behavior. She’s also very judgemental of our decision to not have children. She has often made some snide comments towards me, implying that I’m a selfish jerk who is depriving my boyfriend of the “joys of raising children.”
For these reasons and for her generally entitled behavior, my boyfriend had cut ties with her. However, when he and I visited his parental home three days ago for his parents’ anniversary celebration, we ran into her again. My boyfriend’s dad had urged him to use this occasion to mend bridges with the cousin. So we both tried to make nice and engaged in small talk with her. I’ve never regretted anything more.
During our conversation, my boyfriend mentioned that we were leaving for Melbourne for vacation in a few days. At this, the cousin’s eyes lit up. “Oh that sounds like so much fun,” she said, “My husband and I haven’t gone anywhere since our honeymoon.” She whined some more about how hard it is for them with four kids, if only they could afford such luxuries, etc.
I could tell where this was going almost immediately. My boyfriend probably felt sorry for her and, being the kind and generous soul that he is, he offered to buy them a weekend in a resort in Mt. Abu, a hill station in the Indian state of Rajasthan. Cousin (face scrunched up): “That’s nice, but why can’t you just take us to Melbourne with you?”
BF (getting a bit annoyed, but still patient): Well, we want to spend some time alone together. Plus we’ll be meeting some close friends there. Besides, Mt. Abu is a beautiful place. Your kids will love it. Cousin (in the annoying “Karen” tone): I still don’t see why you can’t take us to Australia. You’re being so selfish, going on this great trip and sticking your family with a cheap weekend getaway.
BF’s Mom: He’s making a very generous offer. Either take it or leave it. Cousin (wearing the expression that morons wear when they think they’ve had a bright idea): Oh I know! Why don’t my husband and I go to Mt. Abu and you can take our kids to Melbourne? Me: What??? Cousin: It’s a great idea. The kids can have fun in Melbourne with you two and my hubby and I can enjoy a peaceful weekend. This way, the kids can actually spend some time with their uncle. You never make time for them!
BF: I’m offering for the last time. It’s either the weekend in Mt. Abu or nothing at all. And why the heck would we ruin our vacation taking care of your kids? Cousin: How can you say that? My kids are so well-behaved. You’ll have so much fun spending time with them. Besides, my husband and I could really use some quiet time together. You two don’t have any responsibilities. You have no idea how hard it is to raise four kids. You can afford this trip. I don’t see why you won’t share with family……
BF: One more word and you’re losing my Mt. Abu offer. On hearing this, the cousin finally shut up. We all had dinner together and she was mercifully quiet. If only her kids had followed her example. You’d think this would be the end of it, but NO! We had seriously underestimated her dedication to her Karenness. This morning, the cousin showed up at my apartment with the kids in tow.
I was shocked to see her, of course, and asked if something was wrong. She smiled and said, “I’m just here to drop the kids off. You’re leaving tonight right?” After taking a second to recover, I asked, “Did you fall and hit your head on something? We told you we weren’t taking your kids with us. What part of that did you not understand?”
She then tried to convince me that my boyfriend had called her later on and had agreed to take her kids. I knew this was a lie and called it as such. The cousin became enraged and asked if I was going to break her kids’ hearts. I called my boyfriend, and after telling him what was going on I turned on the speaker. My boyfriend proceeded to chew her out brutally, telling her he would no longer pay for their weekend getaway and that this is exactly the kind of behavior that had made him cut ties with her.
She tried to get a word in but he wouldn’t let her. The cousin took her kids and stormed off. My boyfriend and I are having a laugh over this and are still wondering what made her think that this plan would ever work.
It was getting near closing time and I was cleaning the self-checkout machines while my manager was topping up the coins and receipt paper. This woman, just shy of 50, came up to the checkout and just stood there with her mostly empty cart. I was waiting to see if she would walk up to the actual register for service, but no; she just stood there.
I finally asked her, “Do you need help?” She replied, “No,” and kept standing there. Then, she started giggling loudly to herself in a way that made other people around her uncomfortable. I just kept cleaning and my manager continued filling the machines, all of which were devoid of customers. Finally, the woman spoke loudly, to no one in particular, saying the rudest thing ever: “Do you want to work or not?”
I let out a long breath, then dropped my cloth and spray bottle down. Suddenly, my manager stepped in and replied loudly, “She does have work! She’s cleaning right now.” Then she motioned for me to keep cleaning. Well, the woman giggled again, really loudly and snottily this time, and said, “I want a checkout.” My manager replied, “You had your chance. She asked you if you wanted help. You said no. And now, you’re going to have to check yourself out.”
The lady started freaking out and demanded to see the manager. My manager destroyed her with one sentence: “You’re looking at her.” The woman sheepishly checked her own items out while we both watched her. And then my manager giggled loudly, just like the woman had done. It was glorious.
Some years ago, I worked an extra part-time job in the evenings at a small national retail chain in the U.S. that specializes in woodworking tools, supplies and machinery. The vast majority of our customers were great, but every so often we would get one that was a real peach. On the night in question, it was 15 or 20 minutes before closing.
I was at the front counter where the registers are, doing busy work to fill the time before I locked the doors. The sales floor was completely empty, except for me. I heard the doors open and looked up to see a customer walking in. “Hi! Welcome to our store!” I said to him in a genuinely friendly tone. Fish-eyed, he turned his head to glance at me.
He made momentary eye contact before walking past without saying a word. Strike one. A few minutes later, I saw him walking up to the counter, so I asked, “Hey there! Did you find what you were looking for?” Again, without a saying a word, he tossed a few packs of euro hinges on the counter. Strike two. Then, I asked, “OK! Have you shopped with us before?”
I needed to know as it was part of my job to enter our customers’ information in our computer system if they’ll let us, and if they’re in our system, then we ring them up under their account. Rather than answer me, he tossed a postcard-sized piece of paper onto the counter. Strike three. Ding! Ding! Ding!
Now, if someone’s in our system, and they give us the month of their birthday, we send them a birthday coupon every year, good for 10% off of everything in a single purchase. There are a few exclusions and conditions clearly printed on the coupon. I picked up the piece of paper he’d thrown in front of me, and it was indeed his birthday coupon.
I used the information on it to pull up his account, noted a key piece of information on the account, and gleefully told him, “OK, sir. I see your birthday isn’t until next month, and unfortunately, the birthday coupon is only good for a single purchase during the month of your birth.” As I said this, I was holding the coupon up and pointing to the text I was referring to.
I am 90% certain I had my best customer service smile on my face at that point. After standing there and staring at me for a few seconds, he let out a snort of what I presume was disgust, then he turned on his heel, and started heading for the door. “Wait!” I called after him. “You forgot your birthday coupon!” Without stopping or turning, he made a dismissive wave of his hand, went through the door, and disappeared into the night.
Adios and good riddance. At this store, our manager was a super-cool guy who encouraged us to bend over backward to help customers, which I gladly did. Customers came in all the time trying to use their birthday coupons early, and it was never a problem. We’d happily give them the discount anyway, with a friendly reminder that it was supposed to be used during their birth month.
But hey, Ihe wanted to act like that. He couldn’t be bothered to show me even common courtesy, nor would he speak even one word to me. That was his choice.
My twelfth-grade advanced English teacher was terrible. He had this elitist attitude about him and thought he was above everyone, including other teachers. It was painful listening to him every day. Only he knew what real meaning of books or poems and anything that people interpreted was wrong unless it was his interpretation.
He considered himself an adult who had all the answers and would lecture us about life choices, and then call kids out for not living up to his expectations. He was notorious for making people change paper topics or ideas because they didn’t interest him regardless of how the student felt about that topic. He told us that “we’re advanced students” and should “ figure it out.”
I developed a drumming nervous habit in fifth grade that two of my teachers didn’t approve of. My teacher in fifth grade would follow me around, outside of the classroom, and correct me for drumming. It gave me terrible anxiety because I didn’t know when she would leave me alone or magically appear. This constant stress made me transfer out of the school.
I thought my next school would be better—I was so wrong. My math teacher was seriously triggered by my habit as well. One day when I was drumming in class, he lost his cool and threw my pencil into the wall, smashing it. He would constantly email my parents telling them I was lazy and didn’t try to succeed. Eventually, I was transferred to a different classroom.
My high school Spanish teacher would ask me to leave class and speak to him in the hallway because my shirt made him feel uncomfortable. He thought it was too low and distracting. As my mom would say I’ve always been blessed, but I would never wear something inappropriate. I apologized and went back to work. I had a female teacher for my next class.
Before class started, I asked her if anything was wrong with my shirt and she said no. As an adult, it’s weird that she didn’t ask me why I was asking. The next day, I wore a sweatshirt specifically in his class so he wouldn’t say anything and he asked me to stay after class. He told me it’s not appropriate to wear a sweatshirt to cover my shirt in his class.
My husband and I have been together for 15 years. We both work full-time and share the chores at home; I cook, he does dishes. My mother-in-law adores her son and in her eyes, no one is good enough for him. We have never lived in the same city as her. The first time she visited our home, I cooked my best dinner, four courses, nice wine, the whole fireworks to impress her.
After dessert and coffee, my husband started taking the dishes to the sink and started washing, while still making small conversation with my mother-in-law and myself. I was exhausted after a day of work and cooking. The moment my husband’s hands touched the water, her face changed. Her mouth twisted and she started mumbling and breathing weird.
She apologized and walked out. I thought she went for a smoke, so I just went to lie down in my bed. I was just touching my bed when I heard my husband consoling his mom, as she was crying. She didn’t know I went to my bed and I could hear them. She started sobbing about all the sacrifices she made to give him a good life, that she never thought she would see him washing dishes.
She said that she had raised him better than this, and that I broke her heart for making him do house chores. My husband is the best man ever, he has an incredible sense of humor, and he found the whole situation hilarious. He started laughing very loudly and asking her to stop the drama. He told her that they had just had one of the best home-cooked dinners of their lives, that I had worked very hard to have a nice dinner, and that crying over some dishes was infantile.
He went as far as tickling his mom to stop her crying. That first visit has set the tone of the relationship with her now. She hates me, dislikes my daughters, and over time spends less and less time with her son. Last I heard, she wants my husband to travel (we live in a different country now) to her place, so she can put her affairs in order.
She claims she will pass soon and wants to leave in peace. My husband kindly told her that she should spend her wealth, and that she doesn’t need him to write a will.
In third grade, we were making motivational posters. The teacher gave a few examples of motivational phrases but said we had to think of our own. I heard the phrase “never give up when the going gets tough” in a song, and it made sense to me. I assumed that this was an existing phrase adults said, not just on the radio and got to work.
I drew a picture of someone trying to cross a ravine to get a prize on the other side. My teacher failed the assignment because she said it didn’t make sense. At the time I didn’t question her, but it’s bothered me constantly since. I have to wonder how it could have been any more clear and what was lost in translation on her.
My kindergarten teacher was also my Aunt. She used to yell and discipline me for no reason. When my brother started school she gave him the same treatment and we both became terrified of her. We found out later as adults that she didn’t like our mom and was taking it out on us. I was so young but these memories still haunt me.
Another time, I remember she also forbid the class from talking to another girl because she spilled water. The whole class got upset because the little girl didn’t understand why no one would talk to her. I don’t even know why people like her get into teaching. As I’m typing this I’m shaking with anger at the memory.
My mother-in-law is a lunatic who believes I should have ended up with my brother-in-law. Rundown: My brother-in-law and I were friends in high school. He got a crush on me, and I didn’t reciprocate. He took it badly. In college, I started dating his older brother who also attended that college. I feel some blame can fall on me here because I knew how he felt and I ended up with his older brother, but that’s just how it goes at times.
I didn’t intend for it to happen. My brother-in-law told his mother a very different story. According to him, outings with me and my group of friends in high school were actually one-on-one dates. We were highly passionate, according to him. Basically, he told her we were the OTP of the world and we’d be together forever. We were NEVER together.
Anyway, my mother-in-law accused me of a lot of things when I started dating my now-husband, but eventually had to step back because of how many people backed my version of events up. Shockingly, the truth has witnesses. Years passed, my brother-in-law has always made me and my husband feel uncomfortable and so we don’t see him that much.
We see my mother-in-law twice a month at most because she has supervised playtime with the kids. She even once asked my husband if he’d be open to “sharing” me with his brother at one point. It was a rough few years. The last visit with her ends up coinciding with my brother-in-law being there. We push on with formalities and my husband steps out for a smoke.
I was solo supervising the kids while my mother-in-law plays with them on the floor. My son is old enough to call my brother-in-law “Uncle,” while my daughter is still going through her first words. I get up for a few moments to leave the teacups in the kitchen, and I come back to an absolute horror show. I see my mother-in-law holding my daughter up to my brother-in-law and saying, “Say hi to daddy. Say hi to daddy.”
Worst of all, he was playing along and making faces at her. The only reaction I had was to grab the kids and leave while they protested. I explained why we were rushing out to my husband and he was really upset. He called his mother to find out what the heck she was up to, and she just got very defensive about me not hearing correctly.
My husband lied and said he’d heard it as well, and she stuttered that she was just letting the children know the truth. Their daddy was my brother-in-law, and my husband was being stupid by not realizing I was cheating on him and being taken in by my charms so I could bag both brothers. We’re putting them both on a “time out” and she is not happy that her twice-monthly grandma visits are canceled for the next four months.
Me and this guy were together for three years, and we’re 19 now. We never talked about the future until a year in. Before then, I’d try to discuss it and he would change the subject. In short, I wanted kids, he didn’t. I wanted to stay in Ireland, he didn’t. I wanted to get married, he didn’t. When I realized it was a bad match, I broke it off but he asked to get back together, saying we were too young to worry about the future.
We got back together. This happened a few times over the next 18 months, and in this time we probably spent more time apart than together. We knew early on that we wanted different things, and while marriage and kids are something I would want further down the line, I wasn’t concerned about his open dislike of marriage and kids because 19 is too young to get married anyway.
If I were dating him 10 or 15 years from now and he didn’t want to get married, then I might have an issue, but when I’m barely out of my teens, it’s not a huge concern, and just loving him and wanting to be with him is enough. Still, when I went to see him this time I was again considering breaking up with him. Aside from the long-term issues, he is also inconsiderate and has a mean streak that I really don’t like.
So when I arrived at his place, mentally debating breaking up with him for good this time, and he told me he wanted to take me out to dinner, I assumed he wanted to break up too, and publicly so I wouldn’t cause a scene. I don’t normally cause a scene, but being in public tends to prevent yelling, and we both yell every time we break up. I found out too late what was going on.
In the last year he has asked me two things that looking back now stand out to me. First he asked about jewellery, what kind of stuff I liked and what my taste was. I assumed it was because my birthday was coming up and he was getting me a bracelet or something, so I told him simple and delicate, silver or steel rather than gold, if there was a color then blue, nothing flashy or expensive as both my job prefers plain jewellery and it’s just my personal preference.
I also said “go cheap.” The other thing he asked me was how I felt about public proposals. I told him immediately that I, personally, disliked them as I felt I wouldn’t be able to say no, even if I wanted to. I feel like public proposals are OK when they’ve been specifically requested and agreed on, but one that’s totally out of the blue is not OK at all.
I assumed he was asking about this because his friend had just proposed to his girlfriend of several years, publicly, and she’d accepted but admitted to him after that she would have preferred something private. I never thought in a million years that he would propose. So you can imagine my shock when we went to dinner and the first thing he did was propose. Oh, but that wasn’t all.
The ring was huge, gold, gaudy, with red gems around a diamond and the whole thing was the size and shape of a super bowl ring. He got on one knee and held it out to me. We were in the middle of this popular restaurant and the place was packed. Everyone there could see what was going on and weren’t even trying to hide that they were looking at us.
I said no. Well, I didn’t so much say “no,” it was a much worse reaction than that. I ran out of the restaurant. He drove me there, so I got a cab back and drove home that night. I realize running out wasn’t the best thing to do but I didn’t know what else to do. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, and all I knew was that I didn’t want to marry him or accept his proposal.
I felt like I couldn’t even speak, I was so upset about the whole thing. So I just got up and ran. I just want to take the opportunity to say here that I really, really don’t care about the ring. Honestly, when I want to get married (which is absolutely not when I’m 19 years old) the right person could just turn to me and say “wanna get married?” and I’d say yes.
I wouldn’t even need a ring. I know I’m focusing on the ring and the public proposal a lot, but that’s only because of 1) how far away it was from what I’d told him my taste was and 2) what happened next. Because what happened next was horrible. I didn’t hear from him until a few weeks later. At that point, he said that he thought a proposal was something I’d want, but he saw now that it wasn’t.
He then said that he was out of pocket for the rings. He’d bought us both the same one and gotten them engraved. He linked me to the jeweller’s website and the ring was up for $1,650. When I asked why he was telling me this, he said that he’d hoped I would cover the cost of mine. He said that as they’d been engraved he couldn’t get a refund.
He’d hoped that I would say yes to the proposal, in which case he wouldn’t have asked me to pay, but I said no. He also said I’d embarrassed him by saying no in public, and should have said yes, and if I was really against it I should have waited to say no when we were alone. See, we both live in small towns where gossip spreads at Church.
Enough people were at the restaurant that night that both of us got asked about it at Church on Sunday. He has since messaged me saying he’s debating calling in a lawyer to sue me for the cost of my ring, and he also says that I have caused him “emotional distress” by turning him down in public, and have publicly humiliated him for both rejecting his proposal in public and leaving him to deal with Church gossip, which I had no part in spreading.
I think his claims are ridiculous, and he wouldn’t have a leg to stand on in a court of law, but I am not a law student or a lawyer. He knew I wanted to get married but not to him. He not only knew this but said he had no intention of marrying me either. He openly despised marriage right up until the time he proposed, where suddenly he’s all about it.
He knows that we want different things out of marriage, and I told him that this was why I was breaking up with him the times before this that I have ended the relationship. But there is a kicker in all of this. His mother has reached out to me apologizing for her son’s actions. She has said that nothing will come of this and that she raised an idiot.
I went to my usual sushi place to pick up a takeout order, and it wasn’t ready yet so I grabbed a drink while waiting, and overheard this conversation. Some lady comes up to the bar to place a sushi to-go order for her and some friends, and she’s clearly never eaten sushi before. She asks a million questions about every roll (which is fully described on the menu).
Her questions start not that bad, like, “Well how much cream cheese is in the roll?” and “What is panko?” This is mildly annoying, but completely fair. Then things go downhill. She takes a break to call her friends and asks similar questions to them. “Well, which one will I like more?” It’s about a 15-minute phone call about what sounds good, and what sounds “disgusting” loud enough for everyone to hear.
Eventually, it sounds like she has an order in mind. Then she says, “I’m allergic to shellfish, so I can’t have anything with shellfish touch my stuff.” Again fair, but sort of annoying at a sushi place. And she starts to place the order. After placing an order of about 10 different rolls, she ends with the banger. C for customer, S for server. C: “Oh wait, does that last roll have any rice in it?”
S: “…Yes” C: “Oh boy, a lot of us don’t eat rice.” S: blank, defeated stare. C: “Can you make that roll without rice?” S: “I guess we could, but it won’t hold together well. And just so you’re aware, every roll has rice.” C: “REALLY? Every sushi has rice?!” S: “Yes, that is what the rolls are rolled around with. We can try and make them with no rice, but it will just be seaweed wrapped about the filling, which may not hold together well.”
C: “There is seaweed on the rolls?!” The menu only specifies what the fillings are, it doesn’t explicitly say that rice and seaweed are included. I left after that, and gave the server a big tip. I’m all for people trying new foods, but please understand what you’re ordering.
My grandmother, who is 91 with severe dementia, was charged $13,000 for five pieces of clothes at a strip mall in West Palm Beach, Florida. We have limited the amount of money she can spend (she wrote checks for the clothes) and so the checks bounced. I have contacted the store owners who sent a “receipt” for her purchases that is hand-written on a piece of paper (no store business information) and just says “dress $4,000” and “skirt $3,000,” etc.
I strongly suspect that the owner just made up these prices that normally sold for MUCH less and my grandmother was incapable of discerning any of this. My grandmother can’t drive and has a full-time caregiver who was with her and did nothing to stop this. The owner is now asking me to pay what is “owed” on the clothes. I feel so stuck and angry right now.
I rent an apartment, and an assigned exterior parking space within my complex’s parking lot is included in my rent. I have a parking pass that I display in my car, and documentation from my landlord stating that this specific spot belongs to me. However, I have a neighbor that always parks in my spot. I have contacted my landlord every time this happens asking him to handle it, but nothing ever happens.
I have also kept a log of every time I notice this neighbor in my spot and when I’ve contacted my landlord. For what it’s worth, the neighbor does not have a visible parking pass on his car, and also puts a cone in my spot when he’s gone to reserve it, so I don’t think this is just confusion. I don’t think he owns a spot at all. This past weekend, it went from annoying to mind-blowing.
Said neighbor had my car towed from my spot. I confronted him in person, but all he did was claim that the spot was his. I once again contacted my landlord, who stated that this spot was indeed mine, I shouldn’t have been towed, and he would speak with my neighbor to reiterate that it is my spot. Well, apparently the neighbor didn’t listen, because last night he was in my spot again.
I had some of my friends over at my house, and one of my friends invited one of her other friends to come over. Then the worst moment of my life happened. She had her MacBook on my couch and when I sat on it, I broke it. Since it was completely my fault I offered to pay her the money for it and she agreed. She got the old one three years ago and it cost $2,200 dollars at the time.
I told her I’d wire her the money in a week to her bank account. She’s now emailed me, however, saying that as per our conversation, she’s expecting the $2,700 that I have agreed to(!!!!) I didn’t know why she added the extra money, so I got her number from my friend and called her. She told me that she’s now expecting me to pay for her new upgraded MacBook since she was “upgrading anyway.” She said if I don’t agree to do that she’ll be suing me in Small Claims Court.
I worked as head bartender for a local restaurant for a number of years, and there was a regular customer who was there very frequently. I interacted with this customer frequently, too. They tipped exclusively in scratch tickets and specifically called to ask for my schedule, asked me out on multiple occasions, et cetera. Probably about 40 years my senior.
Then I won something from the scratch ticket that wasn’t five or 10 dollars; the final amount after taxes was about three months’ salary for me, and I was making good money. I specifically didn’t tell the customer, not because I thought they wouldn’t want it but because I didn’t want them feeling like I owed them something or that I should be thankful towards them.
I did tell a co-worker, and it got to the customer through the grapevine. The next time I came in, he congratulated me, and asked me a question that sent a shiver down my spine. He asked how we wanted to split it. I sternly told him that it was my tip and long story short, he went to my manager, who took his side. I actually quit since I had been planning to anyway since I’m about to finish school. But that wasn’t the end.
My manager then GAVE THIS GUY MY EMAIL and he (the customer) emailed me saying that if I didn’t agree to give him 50% of the winnings he’d take court action. Do I need to worry about taking his threat seriously? Is there anything I can or should do to protect myself? I’m assuming this is a bluff but I want to have my bases covered.
I am 16 years and two months old. My parents believe I am a disaster and unruly child, but they are delusional parents. My mother has bipolar disorder and does not take her meds regularly and I’m sure my father has undiagnosed mental health problems as well. They have been wanting to send me to a camp for troubled teenagers for a while, and two people recently came to take me without me knowing.
I thought they were kidnapping me. I screamed and my brother who was at home (but wasn’t supposed to be) took my father’s gun and threatened to kill them. That was when they told us who they are and why they are here. We called the authorities but they did nothing after they talked to our parents. I do not trust my parents anymore and I want to get emancipated. I don’t think my parents will object; they will be happy to get rid of me.
Five years ago, I was stalked for six months by a guy I knew less than a month as an actual person. We dated very briefly; I broke things off and things seemed amicable…until he started showing up outside my house and demanding I be with him or else. He had decided that he was a good man and he deserved a chance. He threatened that if he didn’t get a chance, he’d kill me or hopefully I’d kill myself.
After six months of daily threats, 10+ reports, multiple restraining order attempts, moving, and getting rid of all social media, he found me anyway and kicked my door in at midnight. This is where my world spun out of control. I shot him in the chest in self-defense, and he was finally sentenced and went behind bars. I thought I was done with him. I was so, so wrong.
I guess he was on parole for about four months after his release recently because I immediately started receiving messages and comments from him afterward; he just picked right back up where he left off. I contacted the parole board and they said he was released from supervision a few days before. I have contacted the authorities and was approved for a restraining order but of course they haven’t been able to serve it.
They said they can’t prove the messages are from him despite him using his name, posting his pictures, and literally commenting my name and talking about the shooting in the comment replies. The detective is waiting for a subpoena to prove it’s him. I am documenting every bit of harassment of course…but I am just…exhausted. I am so incredibly frustrated with the lack of help available and closed doors there are for people being stalked.
I have perfect pitch. It’s not a thing I can turn off; notes simply are a pitch clear as day, much like how red is clearly distinct from green. Anyhow, it was music class in junior high. My teacher explained that Mozart had perfect pitch and he walked over to the piano, played a note, and said: “And just by hearing it, he’d be able to tell you what now that was… now can any of YOU do that?”
At the time, I honestly had no idea this was rare. I raised my hand, and the teacher, with a smug look, pointed at me and he was absolutely gobsmacked when I answered. I hit the note right on the money, octave and all. He figured it was pure luck, so he did it again and asked me to face the other way. I answered correctly again. He also tried it with chords, sequences, and two hands worth of notes.
Still right every time. That day, I learned that perfect pitch is actually kind of rare.
I know a guy who tries to be a major alpha at any interaction with another male. One time, he challenged me to a distance race, saying they could run longer than I could. I knew he wasn’t a runner at all, but he did not know I ran ultramarathons and had recently set the course record in a 50-mile race. Well, I said sure, and we set out the next morning at 6 am around a track with three of our mutual friends watching.
I just trailed behind him by like 20 feet at a casual pace. That way, he’d always be expending energy trying to put distance in between us. Surprisingly, he kept that up for like four miles, which is a lot for a non-runner. I eventually ran up to him and stuck with him for another mile talking about my running accomplishments.
Eventually, our friends wanted to leave, so I told him, “If you want, we can run in together.” He agreed. But then, during the very last lap, he hit me with a curveball. He said, “Sorry but I’m gonna win” and tried to speed up to pass me. I was like, “Okay,” and I dropped my pace. I still came in like 150 meters ahead of him.
He was full of excuses and challenged me to a sprint a few days later. I also completely wrecked him at that. Just give it up dude, you don’t have to be “alpha” all the time.
I just recently had a new family move into my neighborhood. The neighborhood is relatively small and close-knit; it’s the kind of neighborhood where everyone knows each other and we generally all get along well. We have big block parties and shoot off fireworks together on holidays. The new family is a middle-aged couple with their four children.
The kids’ ages range from around 14 to two, and this incident is just the first of several problems that I have had with this family since they moved in. So I was hanging out in the living room just relaxing and watching TV. From the couch, I have a clear view of my backyard. That’s when I noticed the retractable cover of my swimming pool begin to roll up.
I was home alone and no one else has access to my backyard. For insurance reasons, I have a lock on my back gate because of the pool. The gate always remains locked as we would be liable if anything was to happen in the yard. I rush outside and see what was going on. That’s when I see this Entitled Mother standing next to my pool with her four children.
They are dressed in their swimsuits and the mom is rolling up the cover of my pool. Me: Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing in my backyard? Her response shocked me to the core…EM: My kids have been well behaved today and they want to go for a swim. I saw that you have a pool so we are going for a dip. Me: This is not a public pool and you are on my private property. I need you to get out of my backyard now. I never told you that you are allowed on my property without permission.
EM: WHO THE HECK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? IT IS A VERY HOT DAY AND MY KIDS WANT TO GO FOR A SWIM AND THEY WILL. Me: Not in my private pool they will not. How did you even get in my yard anyway? The gate is locked. EM: SCREW OFF! IN MY OLD NEIGHBORHOOD WE DID THIS ALL THE TIME. MY KIDS ARE GOING FOR A SWIM NOW AND YOU WILL NOT EVEN KNOW WE ARE HERE. YOU ARE JUST BEING SELFISH AND I WILL NOT ALLOW MY BABIES TO SUFFER BECAUSE OF YOUR BAD MOOD.
Me (Now angry): I will not ask again. You either get off my property now or I will call the authorities. You are not using my pool and that is final. EM (finally gets the cover off): Okay kids jump on in. Don’t listen to this stupid witch. Kid: Yeah you stupid witch. We are going for a swim now and you can’t stop us. Me: THAT’S IT! I AM CALLING THE AUTHORITIES.
EM now sees that I am serious and tries to the “reason” with me. EM: You would really not allow four kids to go for a swim on a hot day. What kind of heartless person are you? Just let us go swimming for an hour and we will leave. Don’t you want to be a good neighbor to us? Me: No I do not. You just broke into my backyard without permission? Please get off my property now.
She starts to mumble something to her kids and then she grabs her two youngest and starts to walk out of my yard. I then turn around and see her two oldest boys still standing by the pool. I start to walk over to tell them to go with their mother, and that’s when I see what they are doing. Her two oldest spawns are PEEING into my pool.
Kid: MAYBE THAT WILL TEACH YOU TO BE A BETTER NEIGHBOR, YOU STUPID WITCH. Me (grabs the arms of the two oldest and pushes them out of the gate): GET OFF MY PROPERTY YOU DISGUSTING LITTLE BRATS. EM: DON’T YOU DARE LAY A HAND ON MY BABIES OR I WILL CALL THE POLICE ON YOU. WHO DO YOU THINK THEY WILL BELIEVE? A GOOD MOMMY OR A PATHETIC LITTLE WITCH LIKE YOU? YOU JUST GOT WHAT YOU DESERVE. ENJOY SWIMMING IN YOUR PEE POOL.
They then all walk off laughing as they went back to their house. I was in complete shock and I didn’t know what to do. I now wish I called the authorities after this first incident, but I sadly did not and things have since escalated with this family. Remember how I said that I had a lock on the gate? I later found it broken on the ground. I have no idea what they used to smash it, but they were successful. I have since purchased a much more heavy-duty lock.
My high school band director easily lost his temper. He once threw the loudspeaker at us during marching band practice and would yell at us after a competition if he didn’t think we performed well. I went on to major in music education in college with the hopes of teaching music at a high school level. Every professor I had reminded me of that band director.
I still got my degree but I was worried about becoming one of them and didn’t go into teaching. It doesn’t justify losing your temper on children but from the other side, the frustration of teaching ungrateful hoards of teenagers on top of listening to the same pieces played year after year could make monsters out of anyone.
Years ago, this new neighbor of mine kept trying for the better part of a summer to use me as a free babysitter. It started when her kid, who was really a cute, well-behaved kid about seven years old, showed up at my door at 7:15 in the morning. We were all just waking up and getting around so I told him that my boys weren’t ready to play yet and to come back in a few hours.
That is when the kid told me his mom had gone to work. This seemed a bit odd to me so I brought him in and tried to call his mom. Sure enough, she was gone. So I brought him in and fed him breakfast. He stayed with us the rest of the day and he got along well with my two boys who were five and 10. I had only talked to his mom about two times, so I had no idea why she would think this was a good idea.
When his mom came home, I walked him over so I could talk to her. I told her not to do that again, though I did say that I would be willing to watch him on occasion if asked first, but not every day. Her response was: “Well, what else do you have to do all day?” This kind of took me by surprise. I tried to tell her that I work at home on commissions.
She rolled her eyes and told me that being an artist isn’t a “real job,” and besides I was married so I didn’t need to work. I should have pointed out to her that she was married and working, but I felt myself getting angry and I didn’t want to argue with her. “Just don’t do that again.” I said to her. “You have teenage kids home for the summer, have them babysit.”
She frowned at me and said, “They work.” I said, “So do I!” Then I went home. The next morning at 7:15 the kid sheepishly shows up again. Once again I bring him in and feed him breakfast and later lunch. Once again I took him to his home and once again told his mother to please not do that again. She actually tried to tell me that it was my neighborly duty to watch him and I told her that if she sent him tomorrow I wouldn’t be there because of a doctor’s appointment. Her reply blew my mind.
She said that as a babysitter I should have given her several day’s notice about this. I angrily told her I was NOT a babysitter and then went home. The next morning I made my 7 am appointment. I did some grocery shopping afterward and it was about 10 am when I got home. The poor kid was waiting for me on my porch. He had been there for nearly three hours and the little guy was scared and hungry.
That night when I took the kid home, I was angry. I told her how the kid was scared and alone. She actually said that she had told me I hadn’t given her enough time to find anyone else and that his being alone was my fault. I pointed at her and said: “I am NOT a babysitter! Don’t send him over again!” That night, this woman had her adult nephew call me to scream at me for not being home when his poor aunt dropped her son off.
How dare I leave a small child alone like that? I told the nephew that his aunt KNEW I wasn’t home so it was HER that left a child all alone. I said that I had repeatedly asked his aunt NOT to send the kid over anymore and I was NOT a babysitter. This nephew freaked out at me when I said that. I hung up on him while he was still screaming at me.
This worked for two wonderful, quiet days. Then right back to it. I tried everything, but this woman insisted that it was my neighborly duty to babysit and would tell me as much. Finally, I decided that to solve this problem I would just get a job outside of my home, and that way she would have to stop. (I was too much of a pacifist back then. I no longer am). I landed an interview for a position at the local library and I was ecstatic.
I told the woman to keep her son home because I had arranged for my kids to stay with their grandmother while I went to this interview. The next morning, I drove to my mother-in-law’s house and took my kids inside. When I went to leave, I found this woman’s kid waiting for me in my car! She had actually followed me there and put her son in my unlocked car and then zoomed off while I was dropping off my boys.
My mother-in-law wasn’t the most flexible person in the world and she adamantly refused to watch an extra kid. I had to cancel my interview. I was livid. I toyed with several ideas at this moment. I could take the kid to her job and leave him with her…or I could call CPS. I really wasn’t sure how stable this woman’s job was and I didn’t want her to get fired, and when I went to go call the CPS I chickened out because it really wouldn’t be fair to the little boy.
Besides, I had heard really scary stories about CPS. In the end, I just waited for her to come home. I left the boy at my house with my husband (I planned on doing a lot of cussing) and I stomped over to her house and met her before she even got out of her car. I shouted at her. I told her she was dense, stupid, moronic, and crazy. I told her that she had lost me my job interview and if she sent her kid over to be watched again I was going to call CPS.
I told her that she was violating my space and if it took going to court to get her to knock it off, then so be it. She then put her hand on her hip and in her most snotty tone she said: “Well if you didn’t want to sit with him, all you had to do was tell me.” I really do not know how I kept from punching her right then and there, this comment was so asinine.
I turned on my heels to start stomping home when I saw her husband pulling up. Now, this was the first time I had ever met her husband. He worked at a job that only allowed him to be home on weekends. (I can’t blame him, I wouldn’t want to be around her either), but when she saw him she turned tail and RAN into her house. He saw that I was upset and asked me what had happened.
I told him. Told him all of it, especially the incident at my mother-in-law’s. The poor man was shocked. He had been told that I was being paid and he had been giving her money to pay me! He had no idea all this had been going on and he was very, very apologetic over the whole thing. In fact, he apologized again to my husband when he came over to pick up his little boy.
Finally, FINALLY, she stopped sending her kid over! Later I heard from others that she was badmouthing me and warning folks about what a horrid babysitter I was, but I took that as a favor. I didn’t want to babysit any kids other than my own and I still hate doing so. I don’t hate the kids, I love kids. It’s dealing with the parents that I don’t like.
The kid came over only once in a while after that to play with my kids, after he called first to get permission, exactly the way it should be done. I’m sure his dad had something to do with that because the kid only came over on weekends. This is one of a few stories I have involving this crazy lady. Her only entertainment in life seems to be seeing how bizarre she can act in this neighborhood.
I’m luckier than my other neighbors in the fact that she leaves me alone now, and I’m very happy with that.
I work in a large airport at a small convenience store on one of the busiest concourses. I hear it all, especially about our prices. Although we try to keep our margins as low as possible, we still have to pay our rent as a business, and it’s about $14k a month. One day, I had an older woman come in and set down an expensive brand of water that was priced around $5.15 after tax.
I knew that she was going to say something about it, so I prepared myself mentally. Indeed, she did say something, and it threw me for a loop. She asked me, “Wanna know something funny?” I said that I did. She said, “This same water in another airport is $2.50.” I stared blankly at her for a solid 10 seconds. Finally, I said, “I think I missed the joke.”
She then proceeded to insult me, but she still purchased the water before leaving in a huff. Best day I’ve had in a while.
A customer showed me a ring and asked me about it. I told her that it was a sterling silver lotus ring. The customer then proceeded to show me that it did not fit her. As she wedged it halfway down her finger, she said, “But it does not fit me, see?” Did I look like a jeweler who could resize rings on the spot? No. So I explained to her that we had only one piece of that design left.
A while later, the same lady asked if the artist was local. I said that I wasn’t certain that she was from the city, but that all the artists represented in the shop were American. That meant that if she wasn’t from our state, then she was from another state. Then the lady said, “Well, duh. If she’s not from here then she’s from somewhere else.” Sigh.
I wanted to eye roll since that was my standard response whenever someone asked about local artists, and I had never gotten such a sour reply before. Most people just wanted to confirm that the thing was at least made in America if not locally. And then she asked me which way her husband had left, so I just pointed to the only exit and said, “That’s the only way out.”
Today, a guy bought something at my checkout. After paying, he went, “Actually, I am banned here. What do we do now?” I stared at him for a solid second, my brain probably making the Windows XP shutdown sound. I was shocked by his audacity, to not only come again after being banned but also telling me about it, after buying something.
I asked my supervisor, who sighed, saying that he got lucky in that case and that I should tell him to take his things and leave. But that wasn’t enough for him. He started provoking me, saying, “And what about the next time, huh?” I explained that I wasn’t authorized to decide about the duration of his ban and that, in case of doubt, he just shouldn’t come again.
He still went on, now outright harassing me, “Yeah, what do you want to do? Do you want to call the authorities? Huh? Huh?” At this point, I was about to cry, because he just kept harassing me and I didn’t know what else to tell him. Then a lady in line stood up for me, telling him to leave me alone because he was making me nervous.
“Yeah, I can see you’re shaking. I wonder why,” he blurted out. I was, in fact, shaking because it took all my strength not to cry in front of everyone. After telling the lady to mind her business and being rude to her too for a bit, he finally left. My heart goes out to the lady, who was third in line, and told me, “Honey, don’t ever let a man talk you down like that! Always remember: Big ego equals small elsewhere!” That really lifted my spirits!
I used to work for Kohls. While there, I had one customer come to the service desk with her receipt, saying that the cashier did not take off her 30% coupon. Usually, this is an easy enough fix, but when I looked at her receipt, the total was $0.00. She had already used Kohl’s cash to cover the whole thing. I told her the computer system takes the dollar off coupons first.
It is only afterward that it will then take the percentage off. This is how it works, irrespective of the order in which you scan them. Since her Kohl’s cash took care of the total, I told her that the system couldn’t take 30% off of $0.00. Apparently, she didn’t like that…not one bit. She then started yelling at me and telling me that I was stealing money from her.
I explained to her that Kohl’s cash is just a coupon we give to customers and not actual money. She then told me that she wouldn’t be shopping at Kohl’s again, and she threw her 30% coupon at me before leaving.
My baby boy was diagnosed with type 1 (insulin-dependent) diabetes, and our lives haven’t been the same since. We’ve been struggling with accepting his condition as the new normal while trying to learn as much as we can and be able to provide our son with the best care and minimize the occurrence of hypoglycaemic events. We live with constant fear of hypoglycemia/hyperglycemia and we can’t escape the reality that one small misstep could lead to a fatal outcome.
We also want to prevent long-term complications. He needs to get his blood sugar checked three times a day before giving him his injections. We do this based on pediatrician instructions. For what it’s worth, my husband and I are on a limited income. My husband also has PTSD and stress-related health issues. He can no longer go out with friends, can’t focus on his job, and has become distressed and gets angry very easily.
I forced him to get treatment for his PTSD if he wants to be strong for his son. He has only recently started taking medication and we’re hoping he’ll get better with them. Well, when my mother-in-law found out about our son’s condition, she wanted to be right in the center of it. She wanted to be there for doctor’s appointments, made backhanded comments about how poorly I’m handling my son’s condition, and she even said once that this happened to us after my husband and I stopped going to church on Sunday and that it will get better if we start attending again.
I take care of my son’s health, I make sure his blood sugar is controlled and his injections are taken on time, I watch for any candy and treats that are not good for him and try to insert vegetables and protein into his diet. Last week, my husband and I were attending a group therapy. When my husband asked if we could both go some place quiet and eat dinner after, I said yes, so we dropped our son off at my mother-in-law’s house.
I’ve given her new syringes and the insulin bottle, as well as other stuff I bought from the drugstore that day. My mother-in-law has experience and has been trained to give insulin shots. However, we haven’t visited in a while. When we got there, she made a comment about how skinny my son is because of this diet that we’re following.
I told her we’re just following the doctor’s instructions, and she responded that apparently, the doctor isn’t doing a good job. She also complained when I told her that he needs to get his blood sugar checked, and instructed her to give him an insulin injection before each meal, plus no treats or cakes. She said okay and we told her we would call to check on him.
At around 6 pm, we came to her house to pick him up. I immediately sensed something was wrong. He looked sleepier than usual, but she said it was probably because he was playing with the dog all day. I asked if she did as she was instructed, and she said yes. We said goodbye and left. When we got home, all my son wanted to do was sleep.
He fell asleep on the couch as I was preparing dinner for him. My husband tried to wake him up, but he looked like he was dizzy, nauseous, and sweaty. My husband was concerned and told me to come see. I ran out of the kitchen, my heart pounding, and asked my son if he had his insulin shots and what he ate at his grandma’s house.
He said no, he didn’t take his insulin shots. I quickly pricked his fingertip to know what his blood sugar level was, and it was 300mg/dL. VERY BAD. I freaked out and told my husband we needed to go to the hospital. The doctor told us it was hyperglycemia, and they started treating him in the emergency room, administered insulin and inserted IV fluids to rehydrate him.
They kept monitoring and checking his blood sugar every 15 minutes. I was so terrified and angry at the same time. In the meantime, my husband called his mom and literally started yelling at her and telling her that our son has been taken to the emergency because of her recklessness and ignorance. She completely lied about giving him his insulin dosage.
The insulin bottle hadn’t been touched, and she got rid of the syringes to make it look like she did give him his injections. My husband argued with her for 10 minutes and finished by saying he was taking her name off the emergency contact list because he does not trust her anymore. What she did was wrong and dangerous. My baby needs insulin to survive, and despite having given her enough information about the seriousness of his condition, she decided he was thin so he doesn’t need insulin.
Instead, she thought he needs more food, more carbohydrates, and more sugar. Plus, skipping a couple of insulin injections won’t be a problem. She doesn’t fully understand my son’s constant need for insulin to stay alive, it’s that serious, but she chose to be ignorant about it and handle it poorly. She still calls me, about how it was unfair we blamed her and that she didn’t know.
Her task was simple, follow my instructions, but she did this deliberately. She thinks these are my rules, not the doctor’s, so she went against them. Thank God I’m blessed with a caring, understanding doctor who literally saved my son’s life. I’m grateful to him for comforting me and reassuring me that everything will be fine, I honestly don’t know what I would do without such love and support from the whole staff.
I’m a bi woman, but I’m in love with my male fiancé. My mother-in-law, having known about the bi thing since before we got together, is convinced I’ll cheat on him with a woman, despite us being together for three years and me not so much as looking at another person in this time. About a month ago I met his cousin, a straight woman with a boyfriend.
You know when you meet someone and you immediately know you’ll be friends? It was like that. We’ve seen each other twice since the initial meeting, one with my fiancé there and then the other day we went shopping and got coffee without him. She took a picture of the two of us sat on opposite sides of a table at Starbucks, posted it, and tagged me.
We were sitting opposite each other, weren’t touching, we weren’t even looking at each other in the picture. Tonight my fiancé then shows me a ridiculous message from his mother. “Honey, I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you have a right to know. [My name] has been unfaithful, and has betrayed you in the worst of ways. If you need me I’m here.”
Then she sent the photo of me and the cousin. She tried to tell my fiancé that I am cheating on him with his straight, committed, female cousin. He replied with three cry-laughing emojis and a reminder that the woman was his cousin—on his father’s side; his parents divorced so she might genuinely not have known the girl.
But instead of bowing out graciously with what little was left of her dignity, she doubled down. She responded, “I didn’t want to have to do this but here” and then sent him a photo of me with an older blonde woman who she has never met. This was actually even more ridiculous. This woman was…drum roll please…my half sister.
My fiancé thinks this is the funniest thing in the world and I have to agree. It’s not the first time she’s done something like this, but definitely the funniest. My fiancé says jury’s out on whether he’s inviting her to the wedding or not because like I said, this isn’t the first time she’s done something like this. Then again, her antics do make really good stories…
Oh boy, guys. I took my kids to McDonald’s this morning for breakfast. That was three hours ago and we are just getting home, having never eaten our breakfast, because of a personality trait of mine that my son calls “Oh-Heck-No-itis.” You see, when I’m out and about and I see something wrong happening, I cannot look the other way.
I cannot pretend I didn’t see it. No, my pushy butt gets involved to right the wrong. Especially when it involves kids. Makes sense given my upbringing. So, we are walking through the McDonald’s parking lot and this older woman, about late 60s, has this adorable little toddler with her. She isn’t holding his hand even though there are cars and traffic.
The little boy runs almost in front of a car and I grab him and pick him up. He is such a happy little guy. I go to give him to the woman and she says, “Come to grandma you bad boy” and grabs him out of my arms. She then proceeds to pull down his pants and hit him in the butt about five times really hard. It echoed. When she went for the sixth hit, I grabbed her hand and pushed her away.
This poor little boy is screaming now, and she is screaming assault. I pick up the boy and call 9-1-1. You do not hit a child with that kind of force while calling him a demon child and cursing at him. I take the little boy over to the side of the restaurant as I’m on the phone, telling the operator that I just had to physically restrain a woman from beating a toddler.
The old lady is screeching and my son is blocking her from getting me and the baby. Officers come, and we tell them what happened. By that point, the boy is calmed down, but he had huge red welts on his little behind. You could tell it hurt him to sit down. The officers get mom’s number off grandma. We sit with the boy, as he seemed more comfortable with us than the officers.
Half an hour later, a car comes into the lot and the little boy’s face lit up when he sees it’s his mom and dad. They come straight to him and are hugging and kissing him and apologizing. They get the full story from the officers and us. Dad is angry. He is practically breathing steam. Mom is crying and just looks…broken. Dad marches over to the patrol car housing his (as I found out) mother-in-law and asks her what the heck she thought she was doing not holding his hand near traffic, then beating him for her mistake?
She is still screeching about me hurting her. That’s all she would say. I apologized to the boy’s mother for putting my hands on her mother, but she gave me a hug and thanked me for helping him. Dad comes over and asks mom if they’re going to press charges this time. This. Time. This time? Ok, I’m not gonna ask, it’s none of my business, but dad looks done and asks as if this is finally enough for mom to understand her mother is terrible.
Mom says yes, and I give my full statement, as does my son. Mom and dad take my phone number and take their poor boy home. I told them to call me, as I have experience in these areas and know people who can help them if they need it. The mother-in-law gets taken in to be booked. That old witch not only almost let that poor boy get hit by a car, she then beat him for her error.
Not a good idea if I’m around. So, we ended up just coming home and now I’m making brunch to burn off the excess adrenaline. I hope they call me. Poor mom looked so heartbroken.
I’m a cocktail waitress, and I’m also seven months pregnant. Now, obviously, I don’t drink while pregnant or drink on the job ever. A woman, the Karen, comes in with what I’m assuming was her husband and son and daughter and asks to be seated for lunch. We’re not really a restaurant, but we do have a small appetizer menu with sandwiches and wings and stuff.
I give them menus and Karen says, “But, wait, do you work here?” “Yep.” “But you’re pregnant, you can’t work here if you’re pregnant.” “I work here, I don’t drink here,” I say with a laugh, trying to keep the mood light. The woman looks me over and says, “Have you taken any prenatal courses? Do you really think that’s responsible to have your unborn baby in here?” This is where I made an error.
I get defensive about anyone asserting I’m a bad mother, obviously. So I said, “Well, you’ve brought your kids in here.” “Yes, and what kind of example do you think you’re setting for them?” I’m still collecting my thoughts at this point when they grunt and wave me away. I figure I can kiss my tip goodbye but hopefully that’ll be the end of the discussion.
I see them flagging down the bartender after a few minutes and figure they’re ready, so I go over. Karen asks to speak to a manager. Now, they haven’t even gotten drinks yet, so nothing about my abilities could really be wrong yet. I just ask if there’s anything I can help them with, and her husband (Mr. Karen) says really sternly, “No, just a manager, didn’t you hear my wife?”
The place is too small for a manager, it’s just servers and bartenders and two co-owners. The one who’s working is in the back on a phone call and will be MAD if I go and bother her. I realize they’re probably still uncomfortable with my being pregnant so say, “Maybe Ella (The only other server) can help?” But Karen just gets up to physically look for the manager.
I admit defeat and go back to drag her off her call. The owner tried not to let on how mad she is about being disrupted and goes over with a big smile to ask if there’s anything she can help them with. Karen informs her, as though it’s urgent breaking news, “Your server is pregnant.” The owner says she’s aware and asks if they’d prefer a different server.
Karen: No no no, she can’t be a drink girl if she’s pregnant. Owner: I assure you, none of our employees drink on the clock. Especially not our pregnant ones. If you’d prefer I can have Ella serve you…Mr. Karen: I don’t want my kids seeing this! Owner: Maybe I’m missing something. Seeing what, exactly? Mr. Karen (talking really slowly and condescendingly): A. pregnant. woman. around. all. this. alcohol.
Me: I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but I would never drink during pregnancy. Then the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard comes out. Karen: Look honey, didn’t you take a health class in junior high? With a drink right under you half the time, vapor is absorbed into your blood through the air and then that blood goes to the fetus and poisons it.
The owner and I exchange a look and realize we won’t get anywhere with her. Owner: So, we can have Ella serve you, or I’m afraid there’s not much else we can do. Mr. Karen: We’re not leaving until she’s placed on maternity leave. Or better yet, fired! Owner: We can’t help you. Mr. Karen: I’ll call the authorities! You’re an accomplice to child endangerment!
Owner: There is no child endangerment to speak of sir, please leave. Karen (getting crocodile teary): YOU MAY NOT THINK A FETUS IS A CHILD BUT I WAS TAUGHT TO BELIEVE LIFE BEGINS AT CONCEPTION AND I WILL STAND UP FOR ALL LIVING THINGS BIG AND SMALL BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT MY LORD AND SAVIOR WANTS ME TO DO! The entire time she’s delivering this tearful speech she’s looking around expecting others to, I don’t know, join in with her? Applaud?
Owner: You’re disturbing my customers and if you don’t leave you’re trespassing and I’ll have to escalate this, which I really don’t want to do. Karen: JESUS IS LOVE AND JESUS SAID THIS IS NOT OKAY. JUST BECAUSE YOU THINK IT’S OKAY TO HARM A CHILD IF IT’S SMALL ENOUGH—This is an Irish pub and the owners are devout Catholics, but she wasn’t having any of this. Owner: HEY. I don’t need anyone to tell me what Jesus said. I need you to please leave.
Mr. Karen: I’m calling the authorities. Owner: You do that. We just stop trying to service their table. As we all wait for the officers to arrive, Karen keeps trying to give her sermon, but there was a game on that people had come to watch and eventually everyone yelled at her until she piped down. Enter Officer 1 and Officer 2.
Officer 1: We received a call. Is there a Mr. Karen in here somewhere? Mr. Karen: Right here officers! Officer 1: You said you were witnessing child endangerment—are the parties involved still in the bar? They point me out. I pretend not to notice because I’m worried the officers will take them outside and I won’t be able to watch any more fireworks.
Officer 2: So what exactly was going on? Karen: That woman was drinking! She’s pregnant, you can plainly see she’s very pregnant. Before I can go over and tell them she’s lying about my drinking, the officers look at each other and look back at the Karen family. Officer 2: That’s not against the law. Karen: WHAT?!?!!!!!??! Mr. Karen: Look here—
Officer 1: It’s definitely not recommended, but it isn’t against the law. Now, do you know the woman, is she a friend of yours? Family? Karen: She works here. In a bar. And she’s pregnant! Mr. Karen: I want to see this place’s license revoked. Officer 2: So, listen, she isn’t doing anything wrong. What I can do is talk to her, but we can’t take any action beyond that. Is there anything else you observed that you’d like to report?
So the second officer comes over to me and takes me to a quiet spot while the first is getting their personal information and taking the rest of the statement. Karen is crying again and I assume bemoaning being the last bastion of good Christian morality in this bar. Officer 2 introduces himself and congratulates me on the pregnancy and says I probably overheard why they were called.
He starts to offer me some public resources for new mothers, parenting classes, etc. I didn’t want to interrupt him, so was waiting for the right moment to interject with my plea of innocence. That’s when other patrons come over, thinking I’m in trouble and start defending me. We have plenty of regulars who know me and they would not let this stand.
Some even complained to the officers that the owner had asked the Karen party to leave and they’d continued to make a scene. So both the officers go talk to the owner, who said she was just about to call them herself on account of the trespassing, but sirens outside are bad for business and she was hoping the Karens would eventually leave on their own.
The officers tell the Karen party they need to leave. Mr. Karen: This is a public place. I have every right to be here if I want! Officer 1: No sir, this is a private business, and the business owners have asked you to leave. It sounds like more than once, but at least once since we’ve been here. Karen: THIS IS A DISGRACE. THIS IS AN AFFRONT TO…TO…TO SCRIPTURE AND CHILD SAFETY AND—
Officer 2: I understand you’re upset. Let’s talk about it outside. (He places a hand on Mr. Karen and gives him a firm look.) This next part was said as Mr. Karen walks out backward so he can keep yelling at us, but bumping into things every step of the way. Mr. Karen: I’ll be contacting the authorities about your license. Bump I happen to be close personal friends with the mayor! Crash And you two, I want badge numbers. Don’t think we’re done here because we haven’t even bang started!
So the officers took them out and as it was told to me by a regular who left around the same time, walked the Karens to their car, which was improperly parked in a handicap space. For which they were ticketed. They did make a complaint to the liquor authority, claiming, among many things, that we served minors. We were investigated but obviously came up fine.
My wife and I went to a Dollar Store one evening a few years back because she needed a bar of deodorant. She asks me to come in with her and I say no you’re just getting deodorant no need for us both to go in. This was one my life’s greatest regrets. Next thing I know, she comes out of the store with no deodorant. I ask where’s your stuff? She replies we’ll need to go somewhere else for it and she isn’t allowed back to that store anymore.
I’m immediately curious and very confused, as my wife is truly one of the sweetest people I know. She lets me in on all the details that happened in the store. She entered the store to a cashier screaming at a few young kids playing around. They had knocked a couple items off of the shelves and she was berating them to pick it up. Well, as my wife was grabbing a stick of deodorant from the shelf, a couple fell on the floor as the shelf was overstuffed.
Apparently the cashier snapped her head around and screams at my wife, “You better pick that up!!” My wife, taken aback by her talking to another adult this way, let alone a customer, says, “Excuse me?” To which the cashier replied, “You heard me…pick it up NOW!” As I said, my wife is an incredibly sweet woman and normally doesn’t get angry or act petty. But something snapped in her.
What she said happened next was very out of character for her. According to her, after the woman snapped at her twice to pick them up, and after my wife hearing her scream and cuss at a few kids for playing around, she just calmly put her entire arm into the shelf stuffed full of deodorants and just ran her arm across the entire shelf, spilling dozens of deodorant bars all over the floor.
The cashier loses her mind and starts screaming, “You’re cleaning this up, I’m not doing it!” My wife just says, “Make me,” and walks out of the store. In hindsight it was a jerk move on her part and she knows it, but had the cashier not been such a monumental dick about it, it would’ve gone very differently. Anyway that’s my wife’s most gangster moment story…
A girl who I never slept with claims she’s pregnant and I’m the father. We fooled around for a few weeks but never did “it.” We’re both 16 years old. My parents don’t believe me when I tell them that we were never intimate that way. They want me to man up and accept responsibility. The truth was much different—and it came out. She was lying, since she was protecting her new “boyfriend”…who is 24, which is against the law.
She said so to her friend, who told me, then I told her parents. She then confessed to them. I’ve blocked her number and the guy is now in court.
I’m in grad school but still go to the same OBGYN in my hometown, out of familiarity and convenience. I was planning to switch once I finished school and settled down. I also have my father listed as my emergency contact. For some reason, the office keeps calling him to confirm my appointments, despite me telling them three times to never call that number and to please call my cell phone instead.
Things came to a head yesterday when they called to confirm my appointment for an ultrasound and he CANCELED it without my knowledge. My father and I have a tenuous relationship, but that’s not related to this situation. This has to be a HIPAA violation, right? I can’t imagine they’re not doing the same thing to other women. This could get someone seriously hurt if they were seeking birth control or anything behind the back of an abusive parent or spouse.
So a little over a month ago, my purebred yellow lab went missing from my backyard. At first, I thought she might have escaped, but after looking around it turned out someone broke into my backyard and took her. I made a report but nothing ever came of it and she didn’t turn up anywhere. Last week though, a friend who lives over four hours away from me sent me flyers that were put up for a found dog.
It was my dog. I should mention here that my lab stands out due to the fact that she got into an accident as a pup and she lost her left eye and tore her left ear up pretty bad. I called the number on the flyer yesterday and got into contact with a woman we’ll call Stacy. I told Stacy that she had my dog, and after a 20-minute conversation, I all but confirmed it. Here’s the problem.
When I asked what a good time to come and get my dog back was, she refused. Stacy claims that they have had the dog for almost three weeks now and that because I took so long to get into contact with her, she decided she’s going to keep my dog because her kids have “fallen in love with her.” I told her that was complete bull and that she needed to give my dog back.
She hung up on me and I assume she blocked my number. I found Stacy on Facebook and she wasn’t lying. I found a status from around three weeks ago talking about how she found my dog abandoned on the side of the street and took her in. She is now also posting pictures of her kids and my dog claiming they “adopted” her and renamed her. I’m so mad right now and don’t know what to do.
That dog lived with me for over five years since she was a puppy and now because they’ve had her for three weeks they think they get to keep her. I have all of the papers that prove I own her (dog license, proof of ownership, medical records, etc.) and she is chipped. I also have that initial report. What do I need to do to get my dog back?
I’m not sure what to do. Earlier today, my neighbor came pounding on my door shouting at me. When I finally got him to stop yelling, I found out that he was flying his drone in my backyard again and this time my dog finally managed to catch it and destroy it. He claims this was a $900 drone and I had to pay him right then and there. I refused and closed the door in his face.
A couple of hours later, an officer showed up to retrieve the drone. It was still in my yard, but my dog completely ignored it once it stopped buzzing. The officer asked about the situation. He said the neighbor called them, stating that I refused him access to my yard to get it. That’s not true, he never asked. I’m worried the neighbor will try to press charges against me for the destruction of property or sue me.
He has a history of flying his drone low over my yard to tease my dog. I have asked him to stop several times, which he always refuses, telling me that I don’t own the air above my yard. I have called the authorities to complain once before, as he was doing “fly bys” over my dog and getting very close to hitting him. The authorities didn’t say he couldn’t fly it in my yard but did ask him to stop doing so in order to avoid conflict. That only seemed to egg him on.
So my parents are heavily Mormon and we just recently had a tithing settlement, and when they asked me if I had paid my tithing I told them no. They then asked me if I had a plan to “fix” that and I told them that I worked too hard just to give that money away. Anyways so afterward, my mom, who is my account co-owner as I am under 18, decided to take 10% of my bank account out and refuses to give it back.
This isn’t right, so I planned to slowly, over the next few days, withdraw the money over time. But then it got ridiculous. Turns out, my dad is sick of my mom overspending so he did two things. He’s stopped paying tithing himself AND swapped my mom’s credit card for a debit card. My mom took my money to pay off tithing for him and she gave me roughly $200 back.
She said she’ll give me the rest back and that she’s still disappointed in me for not paying my tithing. Still, it doesn’t sound like I’m getting my money back any time soon. Both my parents are in a significant amount of debt, and my parents fought a lot yesterday apparently. My mom spent almost $10,000 on stuff for the past month or so.
My dad has started making cuts in our budget to fix this, tithing being one of them. I’m still following through with taking my money and putting it in a place where my parents can’t touch it. Just in case they get any ideas.
A friend of mine is really good at hockey. He played in the OHL here in Canada and was invited to a few NHL training camps, but he never made the cut. Anyway, he ultimately quit pursuing professional hockey after college since it didn’t seem like he’d ever make it. One time I invited him to a drop-in league game where anybody could play.
Maybe two minutes into the game, this one guy on the opposing team (who was kind of good but definitely never played at the level of my friend) scored a goal and immediately came over to our bench to taunt us. “How you boys like that? It’s gonna be a long game for you.” That lit a fire inside my friend. We ended up winning 21-3, my friend scoring 18 goals and never saying a single word back to the other team.
I live in Northern Vermont, so we have a ton of tourism from French-speaking Canadians coming down from various parts of Quebec. I am a bilingual American and I hold two degrees in French, the master’s being in Quebecois language and literature. While bartending one day, a customer from Quebec tried to pay her bill in Canadian money, which is about .73 cents to the American dollar.
The Canadian bills didn’t even add up to the bill total if the two currencies were on par. So, I politely explained all of this in English, but she replied in French, saying that she doesn’t speak English. That was my cue to hit her with the surprise of her life. To the delight of my entire bar crowd, I then politely but forcibly explain all of this in perfect Quebecois French. Her face at that moment is almost worth the pain I feel every month paying back my student loans.
When I was in the army, we had a gut-punch challenge. I chose not to participate since I have very heavy hands, but there was one guy who kept egging me on. I just kept saying no, until he started talking too much trash and I couldn’t take it anymore. So, I let him go first. He reared back and I just absorbed the hit. Honestly wasn’t a bad punch.
But then it was my turn. I sized him up a couple of times with practice line-up swings. He mocked me while I did this. I gave him one more warning, and he laughed it off. So, I pulled back and blasted him. Square on the belly button. He doubled over and his face went pale white. Lips blue. Air out of his system. He spent a couple of minutes struggling to catch air.
When I was 16, I worked at the amusement park in my city. It wasn’t a big one, but it wasn’t small either. Most of our rides were aimed towards elementary school-aged children, though we had a few for the older kids as well. Anyways, I was a rides operator, and that day, I was assigned to a ride designed for older kids. We had to measure the kids, and they couldn’t go on if they were under the height requirements no matter what, even if they had a parent with them.
It was a ride that only had a bar that went across your stomach, so someone too small could easily fall off. Entitled Mother and her entitled brat are in line, and I can already tell the kid is gonna be too short to ride without even having to measure him. He’s pretty far back, so I know it’s gonna be one or two runs before he makes it on.
So after I’m done loading, I tell the mom that her kid is too short for the ride and that they should go try the smaller version of it on the other side of the park. She looks at me with the dirtiest stare ever and just says: “We’re gonna wait here.” Now, I have to run my ride because I need to meet certain times, so I don’t argue. Time goes by and she’s finally at the start of the line.
I measure her kid, and of course he’s like 6 inches shorter than the height requirements. Me: I’m sorry ma’am, but your child is too short to ride this ride. I would recommend going over to the smaller version near the entrance of the park, though. He: No, it’s fine, I’m with him. I’ll hold him. She tries to shove me out of the way, but I’m standing my ground.
Me: I’m really sorry ma’am, but we don’t allow people under the height limit to ride this ride. The safeties we have on it just won’t hold someone too small, and your kid could fall off. She then asks to speak to my manager. I get asked that quite a lot by entitled parents, so I give them a call and tell her to wait on the side while I load my ride.
She gets very offended, saying that she shouldn’t have to wait longer for her kid to ride this ride because I couldn’t do my job, and at this point I just kind of ignore her and move on. Ride runs, my team lead gets there and talks with her. He tells her that he’s really sorry but that I’m right, her child can’t ride this ride. Now at this point, the brat is throwing a tantrum.
I mean, he’s rolling on the concrete like a piece of bacon in a frying pan. I’m trying my hardest not to laugh at this point. Anyways, my lead apologizes, offers her a “skip the line” ticket for the ride he’s allowed to go on at the entrance, and leaves. The mom is trying to calm down the kid and starts talking to him. He gets up, all smiling and happy, and stands next to the gates, watching me.
Now I’m not thinking too much of this at this point, so I start loading my ride again, which has a significantly less busy line and I have a couple of empty seats on it. As I’m doing my security checks and getting ready to run it, the mom taps me on the shoulder and thanks me for my help, which I found extremely odd. I turn around to tell her that it’s really no problem, and she starts apologizing and telling me that she shouldn’t have acted the way she did and blah blah blah.
I’m completely stunned, not really sure how to react, but I tell her it’s no problem and to enjoy the rest of her day. I look back at my ride, and realize the brat isn’t standing next to the fence anymore. I’m starting to get weird vibes. I look around for him and he’s not anywhere to be seen. I look at the mom again, who has her phone out with her camera pointing at the ride, and that’s when I knew.
I take my keys out of the ride and start walking towards it. It’s kind of a “swing” type of thing so I couldn’t see the back from where I was standing, but I knew darn well the brat had snuck on. The mom starts panicking, asking me what I’m doing and why I’m not running the ride. I completely ignore her and walk to the back of the ride, and lo and behold, the kid is sitting there.
He almost pees himself when he sees me walking towards him. He didn’t have the bar properly locked AT ALL and would’ve flown right out as soon as I started the ride. Now I’m mad, and I mean mad. I mean, I could’ve gone behind bars for manslaughter right then and there. I just look at him and very sternly tell him to get off my ride.
He tells me he can’t and he needs help, which is fair. I don’t even know how he managed to get on in the first place, but I grab him and put him down, and he starts sprinting towards his mom, crying. As he’s running, he trips and falls down on his face. When he gets up, his nose is all bloody and his knees are skinned, which is when I knew I was completely and utterly screwed.
The mom starts screaming like a banshee at the sight. As I’m running towards the kid to make sure he’s okay and to help him up, she runs towards me, slaps me hard across the face, and starts yelling for security. I’m absolutely and completely stunned at this point. Some security guards must’ve heard her screaming at the top of her lungs because they come running.
The exchange goes something like this. Guard: What’s going on here? Mom: This girl attacked my son! She threw him off the ride into the pavement! Me: Excuse me??? Brat: It’s true!! She punched me too. Guard: Do you want us to call the authorities? Mom: Yes! You need to arrest her!! She’s mentally unstable. I’m just dumbfounded at this point.
My lead gets to the ride and asks what the heck is going on, and I tell him everything that happened in between sobs. There’s one thing the mom forgot to take into account, though. There were like 15 people on the ride who saw everything. So they tell the officers and the security guards and my lead and everyone else what happened.
The mom quickly realized her error, as she just started running with her kid in tow as soon as she saw people asking the other guests questions. They caught her pretty quickly, and I pressed assault charges against her. Needless to say, I handed in my resignation that same day.
My best friend and I were on a beach, just chilling. Now, my best friend is on the big-breasted side of the spectrum. So, bikinis are a nightmare to her. She is always stared at, and that makes her really uncomfortable. Anyway, we were in a more secluded part of the beach, and we had already swum and decided to sit a bit. When we come back to our chairs, a family has settled down near us.
The mom was in her late 30s and the dad was in his early 50s. They had a child with them, a boy about nine years old. We didn’t pay any mind to them, we just sat on our chairs and talked for a bit. I noticed the dad of the family looking at my friend, but shrugged it off. Soon, I decide to pick something to drink (there was a bar nearby) and I asked my friend if she wanted something.
She asked me for a lemonade. I go to the bar and see the mother of the family coming near me. I waited in line until the woman comes to talk to me. Her: “Hi, I saw that you and your friend are nearby me and my family.” I just nodded to her. Her: “I think your friend is really beautiful, but she is showing too much cleavage.”
I looked at her, trying to think of how to respond to this. Me: “Well, she can’t be faulted for being born with big breasts can she?” She looked at me like she was expecting me to agree with her, and was now shocked. Her: “Well, she could try not wearing a bikini that small!” She said this with a somewhat annoyed voice. Me: “She can do whatever she wants, lady.”
She turned red at that. I don’t think that this woman had ever heard someone disagree with her before. Her: “My child will be traumatized!” I looked back to where my friend is sitting, and I have a clear view of her and the family. This woman’s child is making sandcastles, while her husband is staring hard at my friend, who was putting on sunscreen at the time.
So, the problem was not her child, it was her husband. Me: “Well I can’t do much lady, now please leave me alone.” I picked up my drinks and ignored the woman. She wasn’t happy about it, though. Her: “Don’t you dare ignore me young man, I’m not finished.” I just look at her and took a sip of my drink before saying, “Lady, your kid isn’t even looking at my friend, your husband on the other hand…”
I pointed at her husband who was staring at my friend with hungry eyes. She looked shocked. I go to my friend, give her her drink and sit beside her, all while watching as the wife comes back and furiously whispers to her husband. Not long after, my friend and I decided to leave. I didn’t tell my friend about the crazy lady, she has enough confidence issues. At least I didn’t see this family ever again.
I run a convenience store inside a mall. Just outside our store is a lovely fountain, only it’s drained. It has been that way since before we got the store last year. One day, I was sitting around, enjoying the cool air on my face. Our store is located on a kind of odd angle, where one wall is shorter than the other, and you can see people walking by through the glass windows.
I sat around watching mall traffic while keeping an eye on my game, always alert for trouble. At one point, my idyllic view was interrupted by the sight of a man, clearly with a purpose, striding directly toward me. I didn’t even have time to give my usual chipper, “How you doin’ today?” line. The angry man asked me a question that threw me off-guard: “When are they going to turn on the fountain?”
I apologetically replied that I have no idea. A moment passed and the man’s brow furrowed. It appeared as though he was not sure how to process the fact that I didn’t have an answer. Then he said, apparently to make the situation clear to me, “They drained all the fountains!” It was my turn to be confused. Clearly, they drained all the fountains…I’d been looking at the empty fountain all day long, so I would know.
I don’t know why he thought I didn’t notice…Did he think it was my fault? Maybe he didn’t know that the mall makes its own decisions. So, I told him, “You’d have to ask the mall management. We’re just a convenience store.” He firmly told me, “I will!” And with his sense of duty now apparently locked onto a new target, he stomped on out of the store with the same clear sense of purpose.
At the time, I was the front desk receptionist at a car dealership that had an attached service and parts department. I dealt with all kinds of people, but this one customer particularly left me dumbfounded. It was around 7 pm, about an hour after the service and parts department had closed. The sales department was open until 8 pm, so I was just going about my business as usual.
A woman walked up to my desk and slammed a 19-liter jug of motor oil down on the counter. That scared me since I was looking away at the time. She immediately demanded that I sell her the oil. I was confused and just kind of…looked at her for a moment. There was no checkout counter at my desk as we were in an entirely different part of the building.
Also, where did she get that? The parts department was closed and the window into the storeroom was locked with a fold-down metal cage. I finally got myself together and told her that the parts department was closed and that I would be unable to sell anything. Her reaction was priceless. She immediately got angry, blowing her top while gesturing to the closest window demanding that I give her the oil.
I suggested for her to go to another shop nearby, as they were open until 9 pm. Surely, she could get oil there. She didn’t like that answer and scoffed at me. “I need Kia brand oil, for my Kia brand car.” She said it incredibly matter-of-factly and stared at me like I was the dumbest person on the planet. That again caught me off guard.
I have pretty bad anxiety, so I was still mentally and physically reeling from her slamming the bottle down and I was not getting very collected thoughts. I tried to explain that any brand of oil would do and that I’d be happy to help her figure out what would work best so she could pick it up there…but she just kept shaking her head at me.
Finally, she shouted out that she would just come back the following day, that I had been absolutely no help, and stormed out. I noticed then that she had a kid with her. What a great example she set for her children. I did figure out that she had pulled the oil jug down off of a display case in the service department. That was extra amusing to me, imagining someone taking something off of a clearly not-for-sale display shelf because she was mad.
Several years ago, I used to work as a dog trainer at a very well-known pet supply store. While I was a dog trainer, it was still retail, so of course, I had to do 100 things outside of my job description. As a result, I was working the cash register, stocking, and yes, helping our loyal customers. The store I worked at was an absolute disaster with Karens, too.
Big, white suburban neighborhoods were situated around this store, so they came in like hordes. Well, on this particular day, it was vet day. Basically, a local vet service partnered with the store to offer quick walk-in vet checkups for things like vaccinations. Of course, put “cheap” and “Karens” together and you get the worst workday of your week.
This week, the store was packed. The line went all the way to the front, and we were the biggest store in the area. People were asking me questions left and right, dogs were relieving themselves everywhere, and kids were playing with the dog toys. It was the whole shebang. I was already like a headless chicken, having to juggle five tasks while also prepping for a dog training class. Yay.
But as I was making my way from the vet station helping another customer, I saw her, and she definitely looked like trouble. She had a dark tan, shoulder-length straight hair, sunglasses, and she was dragging a couple of kids down the aisle toward me. She looked like she was wanting to turn into the Hulk and was ready to fight. I prepped myself before I started to say, “How can I help—”
She stopped me in the middle of my sentence by saying one loud word, “Dogs!” She had a crazy gleam in her eyes. I tried to decipher her cryptic message and asked, “Dog…toys? Dog…food?” She then said, “Where are your dogs?” It took a second for my brain to catch up with her shrieks; to understand that she was hoping that we sold dogs.
Now, luckily, big box stores like this one tend to not sell dogs directly. Otherwise, they would get them from puppy mills. But now, unfortunately, I had to inform this lady that we were not that kind of store. I geared myself up for a battle, then said: “I am sorry, ma’am, but we do not sell dogs he—” She cursed and shrieked, then immediately spun around, pulling her kids like ragdolls the entire time.
She then stomped out the door again. It felt like I got hit and run over by words. This interaction was less than 30 seconds, so it was like a new record. It was then that I decided it would be best if I took my break before doing my next class.
Several years back, I was working at a small beauty supply store in the southern part of the US. Among other things, we sold little clip-in hairpieces. A family of four had come in and the mom and dad were discussing products in the first aisle while the two little girls were running unsupervised through the store, being loud and making messes.
It was truck day, and I had been stocking shelves out of a shopping cart, referred to as a buggy by many people in that area. It was chock full to the brim. I had gone to the stock room and when I came back 30 seconds later, I saw one of the little girls pushing my cart around the corner of the opposite end of the aisle.
She was standing on her tiptoes and still could not see over the handle. I heard her say something to her mother and her mother told her, “Put that back where you found it.” By that time, I had nearly caught up with the kid, who had turned the basket around. She pushed the cart up to me and said proudly, “Ma’am, are you lookin’ for yer buggy?”
I replied, “You do not need to be messing with that.” That’s when the mom’s Karen came out. She came roaring around the corner saying how I should not speak directly to her child and that if I had something to say, then I should say it to her. Never mind the fact that the kid had run into a shelf, slipped a bit on the tile floors, and almost turned the basket over on herself on the opposite side of the store from her mother’s location.
I did not bother to argue about safety concerns and instead went back to stocking shelves. A little while later, the mother asked me to help her match the color of her hair to the hairpieces. I helped her pick one out, then heard her confirm to her husband that it was the one she wanted. I then went up to the register, while she rounded up her kids.
When she got to the checkout, the hairpiece that she put on the counter was a different one than what I had seen her discussing. I asked her about it and she indicated that the other one was more than she could afford, but she planned to come back for it. I rang her out and they left. The next day, I got to work and the opening clerk said, “I got one of your customers today.”
I said, “Oh yeah?” I didn’t get customer complaints often, but that particular week, I had someone else come in, while I was off, saying that I was rude. They had been unhappy that I had prevented them from shoplifting but they gave some other bogus reason to complain. When my coworker confirmed this, it was in a tone that made it clear I was in for a ride a bit later.
So, I asked, “Have you ever seen me be rude to a customer?” “No,” she answered. “It always seems like you’re sweet, but to hear them tell it, you’re big and bad.” About that time, the door opened, and in walked the hairpiece woman and her kids. It was about to go down. She started laying into me about how she had come to return the hairpiece that she got yesterday.
We did not take returns on hairpieces in the first place. However, she said that in the process of trying to return it with my co-worker, they had found a discrepancy between the item that she was trying to return and the one I had rang up. So, my coworker had asked her to come back during my shift so I could assist with the return.
This woman pulled the product that she wanted to return out and it was a different product than the one she purchased from me—in fact, it was the one that I had heard her tell her husband she wanted…and it was in a different product box. I told her as much, and she started screaming, saying that I better not be calling her a liar.
She also started making thinly veiled physical threats. In the meantime, one of her darling kids had come back around the sales counter where I was standing and she was trying to get my attention to get in on the action. I was ignoring the girl, but she kept tapping me on the hip. I whirled around and curtly said, “Don’t touch me.”
Then, remembering the scene from the day before, I snapped my head back to the mom and smiled sweetly. Through gritted teeth, but with the most upbeat voice, I said, “I am sorry, could you please tell your child not to touch me and remove her from behind the counter. It’s not safe for her to be back here.” She snarled, “That’s better.”
She barked a command at her kid, then made it clear that she would be back in an hour to continue her reign of terror. Shortly after she left, our store manager arrived unexpectedly early for the closing shift. We brought her up to speed on what had been going on. When the lady came back, I happened to be in the stock room.
My manager closed the stock room door and told me in the sternest voice ever: “Do NOT come out.” I could only hear snippets through the door, so I don’t know exactly what happened. I got the picture that we must have given her some money back as a one-time thing, probably because the other option was to refer to corporate, who would have given her money back.
But then I very clearly heard the woman’s voice ring across the store, “Go get her and bring her out here. I am going to snatch her up and…” “You will not lay a hand on my employee,” my manager emphatically interrupted. I did not hear any of the exchange after that, because I was so shocked at my sweet, proper manager’s firm retort.
My coworker, apparently, was similarly surprised. The consensus among the employees after that was that we were pretty proud of how tough our manager could be if needed. They also decided that if I was being rude to a “customer,” it was probably someone stealing.
The worst teacher I ever had tied me to my chair. I was a hyperactive five-year-old and it was torture. I remember she also held my hand during morning assembly and squeezed so hard my knuckles would crack. I would try to pull my hand away and she would hold it tighter. She had this scary way of asking me if it hurt while she was smiling. I shudder thinking about it now.
I had a teacher in eighth grade who hated me for no apparent reason. I remember the first assignment in class was a journal. I was brand new, starting mid-year, and she just gave me a composition notebook and told me it was due every Friday, and to put it on this shelf as the full instruction. I asked another student, but they left some things out.
I did my best and handed it in, on Friday and the right shelf. The next Monday, I got in trouble for skipping the assignment. She refused to believe that I had handed it in and told me I could buy another notebook if I had lost mine. Things went quickly downhill and she called in my parents to complain about my behavior and poor work results.
Fast forward to the end of the year, and she came up to my desk and dropped a notebook on it—the same one I turned in from that first assignment. She didn’t apologize or anything just dropped it and said, “Here, I found this. I checked the work and added it to the grade book.” I opened it and in red pen across the whole freaking page was a D.
I make part of my living as an artist. I make nerdy works of art, and sell poster prints to awesome people with money. One of these works has become really popular over the past few years, and has garnered much interest—it’s a take on the old “dogs playing poker,” except the pups in mine are playing a popular tabletop role-playing game.
A few weeks back, I received a request on Etsy for a custom print. The buyer wanted me to swap out one of the dogs for her own dog, wearing a tuxedo. Dog pictures were sent, and we chatted a bit. Turns out, she is getting married in the spring, and the dog in question has been a part of her and her betrothed’s relationship for a decade.
The dog will even be part of the ceremony, and the commissioned artwork will be a wedding gift from her to her new husband. Awesome. I am a rank sentimentalist, I will admit it. I thought the idea was very cool and offered to make additional changes to the piece to make it even more meaningful to them: their miniatures will be on the table, along with their own character sheets, among other little details.
She was over the moon, and increased the scope of the project. Instead of a poster print, it’s now going to be a huge canvas print, in a beautiful custom frame. Suffice to say, this project is a big deal to me. It would take a lot of time if I rushed it, and I’ve no intention of rushing it. I had just started working on the project when Thanksgiving rolled around.
Things paused while my family visited remote relatives, and then while we dealt with the passing of a close friend the week after. During this time, I got a message on Etsy on Thanksgiving morning from the client: “Hi, I want you to make changes to my poster before you send it.” Ok, no big deal, I thought. We had chatted a bunch about changes, and the piece was far from finalized.
I asked for details. Her response stunned me. She said, “Take out our dog in the tuxedo from the poster, I don’t want him in it. Also take out our character sheets and miniatures.” I was floored. What had happened? Did I do something wrong? Did I somehow blow the sale? I asked if she was sure…that it seemed like a lot of good stuff discarded.
And a lot of time and effort wasted, even if it was only time spent discussing and brainstorming. The response I got back was infuriating. “Yes, I am sure. I am the customer you little jerk. Don’t question me, or else I’ll just cancel the project. Further, I don’t think that [the game in the artwork] is a good fit. I want you to change it so that the dogs are [doing unrelated, non-nerdy activity].”
I was so angry. How dare someone speak like that to me? I, unfortunately, had a good amount of time over the holiday to keep mulling it over. By the end, I had mentally decided that I was going to fire her as a customer. The only thing that kept me from doing it was the busy schedule of the holiday visit, and the swamped week that was to follow.
When the smoke cleared, I decided to reach out and be diplomatic. I messaged her and said that the original idea seemed great, but the revised idea was not really my thing. I didn’t think I would do it justice. I’ve never been so glad I reached out. She responded that she hadn’t made any changes. Instead, her awful mother-in-law had been staying with her and her fiancé over Thanksgiving, and her phone went missing for a chunk of it.
As best we can surmise, the mother-in-law took her phone and saw the emails talking about the artwork project. She took it upon herself to message me, pretending to be her daughter-in-law. She then deleted my emails so that the customer wouldn’t see them. The missing phone was “discovered” on a kitchen counter at the end of the weekend.
I can’t wrap my head around why someone would do something like this. What was she hoping to accomplish? Ruin her daughter-in-law’s gift to her son on his wedding day? Was she hoping that he’d be so outraged, he’d call off the whole marriage?
I’m pregnant. Last night, my husband was talking to his mom and mentioned the baby because he was so excited about an ultrasound picture I showed him. In the picture, the baby is clearly flipping the bird, which is also funny. He tells her about this and her comment is along the lines of, “She’s gonna be a trouble maker like you already.”
Now, we don’t know the sex yet, but she’s insisting I’m having a girl. It’s a squish with limbs, but she’s set on a girl. Whatever. So he gets into talking about how when the baby’s older he wants them to learn cars, because that’s what he does and how my gramps raised my mom. So it’s tradition. Guys. My mother-in-law lost her darn mind.
“I’M not having MY granddaughter be a little butch! She will wear pink and bows and dresses! None of that greasy mechanic stuff. She’s gonna be GIRLY!” Uh no. HECK no. That’s where I stepped in and said, “Ok. First, it’s my kid, and my mom didn’t raise me girly so I’m not forcing that on my kid if it’s a girl. Second, my grandfather raised my mom to know how to take care of her car so she didn’t need anyone else to do it. That’s what your son is gonna do for our kid, girl or boy.”
She apparently wasn’t hearing any of this because she goes, “Listen here, miss preggo, my grandbaby…” before my husband cut her off. Here’s where you are going to love him. He says to her, “Ma. Shut the heck up for a minute. Is it your kid?” My mother-in-law says, “No but…” “No. That’s right. It’s not. It’s our kid. Now shut up. Were going to raise our kid how we want to. Not how you want to.” I love him.
My mother-in-law ruined the birth of my son four days ago. I’m still pretty shocked about what happened and still kind of baby-brained after the birth, so I hope this makes sense. I’ve never got on with my mother-in-law and have probably met her about 10 times since I’ve been with my partner. She has never liked me and it’s obvious.
She doesn’t speak to me, she ignores me, she leaves me out, and if she does speak to me it’s to say something derogatory. She started being a bit nicer when my partner and I found out I was expecting. She was very excited for her first grandchild and we finally had something she would talk to me about. She asked my partner several times if she could be in there when I gave birth.
That was a firm “no” and I didn’t think about it again really…until she stormed into the delivery room four days ago. I was in active labor by then, and she suddenly appeared out of nowhere. I’m an incredibly shy and anxious person and I could not bring myself to ask her to leave myself. I just have no balls. I know this is terrible.
I presumed my partner would ask her to leave. He didn’t. She stayed for hours and I started to feel like I needed to push but I desperately did not want to push with her in the room. Eventually, I just told my partner it was time to ask her to leave, and my mother-in-law looked furious. He did though, and she left. Fast forward to an hour later.
The baby was not coming out no matter how hard I pushed and things had started to get panicky in the delivery room. I ended up on my hands and knees in the least dignified position…and then the worst happened. My mother-in-law came back into the room. I was mortified. My partner had to get her to leave again. The pushing wasn’t working and we ended up in the theatre.
It ended up being a forceps delivery, which was extremely traumatic and I’ve had more stitches than I even feel comfortable with saying. In the theatre, people kept coming in and saying that she was STILL trying to get in. When we came out, more people came and said she was trying to get in to see the baby. I was horrified. My partner didn’t think it was as bad as I was making out.
I allowed visits the next day and my mom came first (I made sure of that) and my mother-in-law came slightly later because I told her the wrong visiting times. I know that’s childish, but I felt like after what happened it was the last thing I could do to get my own boundaries back. My mother-in-law wasn’t happy she wasn’t the first to meet the baby.
Four days on, and my mother-in-law asks every day to come and see the baby, but I’m absolutely furious at what she did. I’m also trying to establish breastfeeding and I’m anxious and vulnerable and I don’t want her around. She keeps telling my partner I’m mean and horrible keeping her away from the baby. I don’t know what to do.
I’ve spoken to my partner about it but I haven’t pushed it about how upset I am about it all because I’m trying to enjoy time with my baby. I feel really let down by him for not sticking up for me more and keeping her out properly. I also feel confused about medical staff not keeping her away when I said I didn’t want her in there.
One of the midwives said to me after the birth that the reason the labor went so badly was probably a lot to do with how stressful I was finding it having her in the room when I didn’t want her there, and honestly, I feel like that’s true.
This happened a few years ago, but I just cooked spaghetti for dinner and we had a fun trip down memory lane. Before we were engaged, I invited my husband over for dinner. He got to my place early, and I was making spaghetti that night. I had chopped onions, garlic, mushrooms, and had it all in a pan with butter when he walked in.
It smelled great. He just kind of sat back and watched me and was being so darn cute. Asking questions and wanting to help but not wanting to mess anything up. Once the veggies cooked, I added ground beef and seasoned it. In went the noodles, then I added canned sauce to the meat, nothing fancy, pinch of sugar, extra cheese, and done.
Quick meal and full of flavor. He loved it! I mean, this guy who ate like a bird got three servings! He was gushing about my “gourmet spaghetti” and was so grateful. He kept the leftovers for work the next day and thanked me a million times. When he told his family about it, his mom asked him something to the effect of, “Is it better than mine?!” And he said it was.
He said that I make it so well and that it’s his favorite thing I make. Well, we get a dinner invite from his mom for the following week. She’s making spaghetti…and wanted to have a spaghetti cook off to see whose he liked the best??? What the heck? I laughed and he thought it was a joke, but said that she did seem upset about his comments.
He tried to play it down and tell her that he likes them both but that he’d never had some like mine. I refused the cook off because I thought it was silly and I didn’t want to set a bad tone with her. The day comes and we show up. She had invited her other adult children and their children to partake in the epic spaghetti dinner.
We all ate a bowl and it was ok. I mean, it was literally sauce and noodles. I said to my husband, “this tastes familiar but I can’t place the sauce.” My mother-in-law was behind us and chimes in that it’s her special recipe. My father-in-law then says, “The bottle is in the trash can if you want to see the brand.” Poor guy got The Stare. I kind of laughed it off and stage whispered to him, “Thanks, I’ll check before I leave!”
My husband and him chuckled and we went on with our conversation. My mother-in-law was still standing there, but I figured she would know we were joking because I’m not actually going to dig through rubbish. Welp…she got mad. Like, really mad. She stormed into the kitchen and took the bag to the dumpster down the street. She got back and smugly said, “Now you’ll never know what I used and I win!”
The silence was so, so awkward. Then she turns to my husband, “Why haven’t you eaten more!? You’re supposed to have seconds!!” He just said he was full. Everyone was so uncomfortable at this point. We left shortly after, but not before she gave my husband an industrial-sized portion of leftover spaghetti, which sat in his fridge until it became a science experiment.
Little did I know that I had only had a taste of the pettiness that would become my mother-in-law. Cute side note because my husband is a sweetheart. Anywhere we’ve had spaghetti, he’ll quietly whisper to me: “Your gourmet spaghetti is way better than this.”
My husband and I were downtown last night just doing some window shopping after dinner. We came across this little candy shop and ended up going inside. I ended up picking out a couple things and going to the counter to pay. I ran my card then it came up with a prompt to tip. I declined because the girl behind the counter only ran my purchases through the register.
As I’m grabbing my stuff, the girl shoves a tip jar in my face. I’m sure I had a “what the heck” look on my face because she immediately gets snarky and says, “Uh you didn’t tip.” I just say, “Nope,” grab my stuff and leave. I completely have no problem tipping in situations that warrant it, but does just manning the cash register warrant it now?
I mean I’d get it if maybe they were serving ice cream or if it was like bulk candy that they had to package up for you. Am I the one in the wrong here? I just don’t get why you’d get a tip in that situation.
I am so angry. Earlier today, my boyfriend asked me to schedule him a cupping appointment at this place I go to because the woman who does it is amazing. He was by me when I was making the call. About an hour later, I get a call from the place. I answer. LM = manager. LM: Hi, you booked an appointment and asked for a “gift” at the end. Me: Uh, what?
LM: You called and booked an appointment for your boyfriend and paid for it and asked if he could get a “gift” at the end. We don’t do that. Me: What?! No…I booked a cupping appointment for him, LM: It says here you booked a relaxing massage. Who is the appointment with? I say who. LM: She isn’t in today. Me: The appointment is on Sunday.
LM: looks it up Umm yeah. And you already paid for it. Me: No I didn’t. At this point I should have just said cancel it. LM: Oh well, it wasn’t you! Haha yeah, the receptionist said someone asked for a “gift” at the end and we are trying to nip that in the bud! Laughing I then call my boyfriend and tell him the story and he goes, “Well I’m afraid to go now! It’s going to be awkward!”
I had been sitting thinking about it and how she automatically said it was me and didn’t even look up any information about the appointment! And I have been to that place at least five times so my information is in their system.
So back in 2008, I went into early labor with my son. I was hospitalized for three weeks and eventually gave birth to my first child, who weighed a bit more than 1 lb. He was hospitalized for three days until the doctors told me he would be blind, deaf, and unable to walk, but that he would likely pass before that. I was going to end life support for him so he could pass in peace and not be in pain.
Obviously, I’m a wreck the whole time, so when the nurses ask what I want him dressed in, I had no idea. They were trying to make it special since it will be the first/last time I hold him without tubes coming out of him. They said we had a few hours if I wanted to dress him in something nice. He’s was too small for baby clothes so I had to find doll clothes, so I hit the closest store.
I happened to work in the same store but a different location. They would mark stuff down for sale and then if it didn’t sell, it would go to clearance which is half off the sale price. I went there first knowing the medical bills were adding up and hoped to find something. I found something I liked and headed to pay. I’ll use easy math numbers for ease of explaining what the cashier thought.
She rung up the item and it came up as normally $20 and on sale for $10. I then reminded her of the clearance price. It went like this. Me: Oh, it’s also on clearance so it’s half that price. Her: No, that would make it free. It’s not free! Me: Oh, I don’t want it for free, I just want the clearance price. Her: Sorry girl, you gotta pay what it scans as! Me (getting annoyed but too sad to be angry) Can I just talk to the supervisor please?
Her: NO. I am not wasting her time because you want something for free. Just pay. Me: grabs paper out of my purse I don’t want it free. Look, if this paper was $20 and it goes on sale rips paper in half then this is $10 right? But then it goes on clearance rips half into half again then you’re left with this for $5. Get it? Her answer was mind-blowingly stupid. Her: No, it’s different with numbers.
Me:……..bursts into tears because grief is weird like that Another employee is walking by while I’m trying to compose myself and she asks what happened. I tell her in-between sobs. She rolls her eyes at the cashier and cancels the transaction and rings me up herself. The whole time the cashier is eyeing me like I’m a thief.
Two large pit bulls got loose from their owner’s grip and attacked my dog unprovoked. This is the second time it has happened with those same dogs. She is refusing to pay vet bills this time because “I shouldn’t have been walking my dog around her apartment.” The first time I let it go because she paid the vet bills and my dog got the care she needed.
She is a medium sized, 35lb dog. This time, I turned a corner with my dog and her dogs saw mine, overpowered her, and even though I picked my dog up, they bit her leg and dragged her down before going for her neck. I screamed for help and eventually, people came out to help. One bystander said I “should avoid that area because I know her dogs live there.”
And I guess they convinced the owner that it was MY fault that her dogs attacked my dog. My dog has a reputation around the complex for barking and trying to intimidate people, but I keep her in check and hold a short leash because of that. My dog has never attacked anyone or anything and has never gotten out of my control because I know how to handle her.
This lady said that “my dog is known to provoke reactions” and is using that to justify why her dogs attacked mine. I’ve already called animal control and I am about to file a complaint to the property manager of my building. I also have puncture wounds on my hand from her dog when I was trying to get its jaws off my dog. It’s just ridiculous.
My ex-wife has custody and wanted me to allow her new husband to adopt our son. She told me that I have to do this or else she will take me to court to force me to do this. They married this year. She divorced me four years ago, and our son is seven. Well, she ended up taking me to court. Her lawyer focused a lot on my record, which had happened before I even met her, and she married me knowing about it.
Her lawyer claimed otherwise and said that I had hidden my record from her and she only learned about it after our marriage. This was a slam-dunk for me and my lawyer to disprove. I had email communications with her acknowledging my record. Meanwhile, she stupidly insisted the emails not being in her inbox is proof that the emails are made up.
Perhaps she seriously thought deleting the emails from her account would delete them from mine too. Her own lawyer looked really upset after this. She dropped the case immediately after that hearing. Her own husband apologized to me, said he wouldn’t have agreed to come forward for adoption if he knew the truth. He was a decent guy.
My ex lied to him about me to get him to adopt my son. It’s been a couple of months since then and according to my son, they’re now separated. I’m talking to my lawyer to change the custody agreement, too.
My husband has been cheating on me for our whole relationship of 10+years and served me with divorce papers just now. He wants me out of the apartment by next Friday, but I am too embarrassed to tell my family. In my culture, no one gets a divorce and I don’t know where to start. I know I need to get a lawyer but I’m completely confused and blindsided right now.
He’s being completely irrational and doesn’t want me to have anything. Not the furniture in the house, the food in the fridge, or our dog. But it gets so much worse. We don’t have a prenup. I met him when I was 19 and he had opened up his first restaurant in the city. I really thought we’d grow old together. I know, stupid of me not to cover my butt, but I was with him for so long that I got really comfortable and couldn’t imagine him doing this.
We bought a condo in New York and most of it was paid for by me and my family but it is in his name. I’m scared of losing the house since my parents and I put so much into it. But I also can’t afford to keep the house on my own for more than a few months unless I ask my parents for help, which I’m also embarrassed to ask for. Can his infidelity help me out here?
More than that, he bought me a car for my birthday just last year and is telling me I have to leave the car with him—so I have no way of moving any of my stuff out. Plus, I am a co-signer on two of the small loans that he has on his restaurants. I’m also invested in them and they’re a great second source of income. Let me tell you, this SUCKS.
There is an eight-month-old male German Shepherd that is not fixed living in our apartment building. I have a six-month-old Australian Shepherd. We live on the fifth floor and the German Shepherd lives about four doors down. We run into each other quite often since we live on the same floor and both use the elevator. He has attacked my Aussie in the elevator twice, both times on the leash while the owner would unsuccessfully try to pull him away.
He attacked him another time outdoors, which was the first time we discovered the GS was hostile. The worst occasion was when we went to a pet store about a block away. When we walked inside, the GS was off his leash and immediately started attacking my Aussie. The owner did not immediately intervene. I got down to try to get between the GS and my dog and he bit my arm as well in the process.
After about a 20-second struggle, the pet store owner was the one who ran over and pulled the GS off me while the owner stood there and looked confused. I took pictures after the event. I had a winter coat on so my arm just had red marks and scratches, but my Aussie’s paw was bleeding and he limped around for about five minutes. I first spoke with the apartment building and asked for their advice.
They said as long as the owners were taking preventative measures, such as a muzzle, they would not intervene. I spoke with the owner of the GS after this and they agreed to get a muzzle for their GS just for on the grounds. However, the attacks have happened so often that I do not think they can easily control their dog. My Aussie is also now afraid to enter the elevator and pet store since he associates it with where he’s been attacked prior, and also hides from the GS if he sees him in public.
After seeing the GS and the owner for about a week after these events, I kept noticing that they do not have any kind of muzzle still. I spoke with her today, and when I heard her response, I wanted to slap her. She said that after thinking on the issue she has decided to not get the muzzle. She said that the GS is an emotional support dog, and with a muzzle, he would not be able to do his job.
I suggested then maybe using a gentle leader leash, that way if he lunges the leash would close his mouth. She said she is not comfortable with that. I do not know the logistic of emotional support dogs, but I do know they do not have the same rights as service dogs. I feel so stuck now. I feel that if I go to the apartment building at this point they will say there is nothing they can do.
One day, this deputy knocked on our door and my wife answered. They asked her name, she told them, and they asked her to step outside. She declined because she wasn’t wearing shoes. He said “OK, we will do this inside then,” and stepped in the door. He told her that he was there to detain her. She’s never even had so much as a parking ticket in her life.
She protested that she had done nothing wrong and that she had a common name, figuring it might be mistaken identity. Finally, they agreed to let her get her ID. After examining it, they went and looked up the birthday of their suspect and found that they were indeed different, so they left. I’m still very, very upset that this happened.
If she had stepped outside, they would have likely detained her on the spot. She did not have her phone, and I would have had no idea what had happened to her. I would like to file whatever complaints I can, and ideally, to find the judge who signed the warrant to complain how poorly the deputies did in trying to arrest the correct person.
The home in question here belongs to my parents, but I housesit for weeks or months at a time for them and deal with their neighbors enough to care. So anyway, these neighbors moved in a year or two ago and have made life so uncomfortable for my parents (and me) that they are actually talking about selling their home to move away.
This is their marriage home with ALL their memories. I thought they were selling because they wanted to move out of state, but have since found out it is because of the neighbors. My parents’ neighbors’ kid (a very immature 20-year-old) has a beater he leaves parked in front of my parents’ front yard. He has it parked in the middle so that it takes up ALL the space and no one can park on either side of it without blocking a driveway.
It has been in three wrecks in the past year and currently, he won’t drive it. Why? I don’t know. Perhaps it isn’t in running condition anymore. All I know is it hasn’t been driven in over a month….well, until what happens next. I want to also mention the neighbors have a full garage. They also have the same size space in front of their yard to park in, which happens to always be empty unless they have company.
Their driveway can and does fit three of their cars, including another beater that has never left the driveway since they moved in. I politely asked him to move his car when I saw him several weeks ago and he flipped out on me, cursing and screaming at me. He followed me to my car and was yelling at my car door window, to the point it had fog from his breath.
Several days later, I visited my parents and he had his friends parking in front of his car so as to block the driveway partially while still leaving the spaces empty behind his car. I spoke with my parents and they said the kid had his friends doing that ever since I had asked him to move his car, as some kind of payback. They said he’s really mean and to just let it go.
This did not sit right to me, so I later after visiting I went to the neighbors’ home to speak to the parents. I explained the situation and asked them to speak with the boy about moving the car and told them about his behavior towards me with the disrespect and language. Bad idea. I assumed they were decent, normal people and this was just an out-of-control teen.
I assumed mom would just say, “Billy, go move your car” or something and it would be taken care of. Turns out, he got it from mom and dad. I get the dad yelling at me to get off his property as the mom (from another room) starts bellowing about how I did NOT just tell her how to parent and he can do whatever he wants and screw me and my parents.
I didn’t know this at that time, but have since found out my parents believe the neighbors keyed their car about six months ago. My mom asked the neighbor mom and son to not smoke at the edge of their driveway, as it’s right next to my parents’ bedroom window and they would be awakened by them talking in the middle of the night.
Apparently, that set them off and they would talk extra loud and would hold up a phone playing music to their window as a “screw you” to my mom and dad aftr that. That’s also when their car got keyed So since I made the mistake of talking to the neighbor parents, the feud has ratcheted up. It’s no longer just the kid’s one car and his friends when they come over.
Now the parents are retaliating too. They finally moved the beater, but only to move their cars from the driveway to taking up the two spaces in front of our yard adjacent to their driveway. The one car parked just enough to have the front poking into our driveway. The beater was moved so it’s parked on the OTHER side of our driveway in front of our other neighbor’s yard but also sticking out enough to just be in the way of our driveway, too.
This has been going on for a few weeks now. My parents just seem to want to let it go. Not only do they say the street parking is technically public parking and they can’t officially complain about it, but they complain the neighbors will only retaliate worse. My parents travel a lot and my work makes it so I can’t always be there to sit the house for them.
They fear the neighbors will do something to their property when they are gone. I used to think they were over-reacting and the neighbors’ kid was just rude, but this isn’t right.
I’m currently on vacation visiting family for Christmas. I’m a vegan by choice, but I am also allergic to red meat. I was bitten by a “lone star tick,” which caused me to develop a severe allergy to meat. My family makes fun of me for being vegan, though I cook for myself for all meals and don’t mention it much at all. Anyway, I guess some of my extended family didn’t know the severity of my allergy because my younger cousin chopped up steak (extremely finely I guess) and put it in my butternut squash soup.
Shortly after I ate some of my soup, an awful feeling crept over me. I couldn’t breathe and was breaking out in hives. I woke up in the hospital on Christmas Day, as my mom called an ambulance when she saw my face was swelling. My cousin didn’t say sorry when I started breaking out in hives. He started laughing and told me what he had done.
I woke up to a text from him saying “stop overreacting, you need protein” with a picture of a slaughtered cow. His parents aren’t very well off, but my God do I want to pursue him in court.
A former Air BnB guest put a hold on my mail for everyone at my address and has been paying to hold the mail for two months. It’s kind of a genius revenge tactic, but the ones who suffered the most are my new renters. One guy has a thyroid problem and had to repurchase $500 in meds. A lot of people missed paychecks or credit cards. One lady missed the receipt of a Death Certificate.
We thought someone was taking the mail from the mailbox at first, but then we started watching the mailman just skip over the house every day and some “test” mail didn’t move. So I tried calling the USPS and that got me nowhere. Going down in person was the only way to do this I guess. Turns out, some lady who we’d kicked out for being nasty, attracting bugs, and breaking furniture was mad or something or maybe using my address like a personal PO Box?
Who knows. The post office was really nice about it though and gave me back all my mail. Still, how could this have happened? Surely this can’t be legal. I got copies of her hold requests too as proof it was her. She hadn’t lived there in two weeks when she put in the first one.
Tonight when my husband got home from work, he told me devastating news. He informed me that he wants a divorce and will be leaving until it’s done. This is not a huge surprise honestly, as ever since our daughter was born we’ve just not been getting along. What is a surprise is its suddenness. I’ve been a stay-at-home mom since our daughter was born two years ago, it just didn’t make sense to work and spend 90% of what I made on daycare. But worse was to come.
So in talking to him before he was finished packing, he told me, “Good luck with the mortgage and bills, I’ve taken MY money out of our bank account and turned off your card on MY credit.” Again, I would say I was shocked, but I really am not. He’s very mean when he’s angry and never has seemed to connect with his daughter. He wanted a boy and from the day we got the word we were having a daughter he’s been distant.
I obviously need an attorney. I logged into our bank account, and sure enough, it’s at $5. I don’t see how he can just leave us with nothing all of the sudden, and not enough for me to defend myself.
I moved into my apartment at the start of January, and since then I have been convinced that someone was taking my underwear. Every floor has a pair of washer/dryer units, and since moving in I have had almost a dozen different things just disappear from the washer or dryer. The laundry room is so tiny that there is nowhere to sit, aside from sitting on top of one of the machines, so it makes it very hard to wait and see what’s happening.
Two weeks ago, I went and bought a bunch of new things, and when I went to go remove stuff from the washer, I noticed that several things I had just bought went missing. Armed with this and the fact it was early Saturday morning, I went to our landlord and she was able to tell me during the 35 minutes of washing, the only person who entered was my next-door neighbor’s son.
Now at this point, I was furious and confronted the parents. The parents called me a liar, and basically told me off. They absolutely refused to believe me. Yet since confronting them I had nothing go missing for a while. But today I put laundry in and started cleaning my unit. When I went to go drop trash off, I checked the laundry—and witnessed a shocking sight.
I discovered our neighbors’ son, red-handed, going through the dryer I was using. I again confronted the parents, and they immediately started screaming at me for targeting their son, and threatened to call the authorities on me for harassing their son. They also threatened to sue me for “slandering” their son by implying he is a pervert.
So this past Friday, our entire apartment building was evacuated after a “bum-like person” (landlady’s words) broke into the building and busted a gas pipe at around midnight. We COMPLETELY slept through it. I found out about it the next night at work (which is nearby) when my co-worker asked where my boyfriend and I were the night before during the gas leak.
He filled me in on what had happened and that everyone was outside the building, and that there were fire trucks, works.Just afterward, a fire marshal inspected our alarm that’s connected to the building and said it needed to be replaced because it doesn’t work. It has yet to be replaced and when my boyfriend confronted our landlady about it via text, she refused to give us a copy of the order for our replacement alarm.
She also blamed us for not hearing the commotion and waking up (I sleep with ear plugs and my boyfriend is a heavy sleeper), didn’t apologize, and told us if we don’t feel comfortable she’d make arrangements for us to move out. All we asked for was the alarm for our unit. Luckily neither we nor our cats are hurt or anything, but if the gas leak had been any more serious we could’ve been in trouble.
My boyfriend’s dad is a real estate agent and the first thing he cited was the law that landlords need to have an evacuation plan for all tenants and units. I dislike confrontation and feel like we were too harsh in our texts, but c’mon. My dad is telling me to report the landlady to the tenant tribunal or the fire department.
I went out of town for five days and a co-worker offered to check on my four cats while I was away. I came home to find they had no food or water and their litter box hadn’t been cleaned in days. My oldest girl was in really bad shape, and she couldn’t move her back legs at all. I thought she just fell down the stairs and broke her back.
I took her to the ICU and the doctor ran a lot of tests. They revealed my worst nightmare. The doctor explained to me that nothing was broken. She was actually extremely dehydrated, likely due to not having access to water in days. This caused a previously unknown/undiagnosed diabetic episode, which sent her into shock. She suffered for two days in the ICU before the doctor told me she was only getting worse and a decision had to be made.
There was nothing they could do and she was terrified and suffering. I stayed by her side as they euthanized her. That was about three days ago. My heart is in pieces. There is no signed document of my friend agreeing to watch my cats, but I have text messages of when I tried to check in on them, then 42 messages in the morning and another four hours worth of messages from this friend trying to blame me for not reminding her and not telling her about an undiagnosed condition, and even blaming me for trusting her.
I know I’m angry and grieving. But because of what this person did, my cat suffered for days until I had to let her go. I want to take her to court.
My son’s school is completely ignoring his allergy to peanuts. This has been an ongoing issue since the second day of school, where he was given peanut butter crackers. We sort of brushed it off as a new school year, new students, teachers a bit frazzled dealing with first graders, no real big deal. His allergy isn’t really severe but still not fun to deal with and can potentially become life-threatening.
We had already informed the school of his allergy before the year started and even talked directly to the teacher about it because the default snack during the day if no other parents brought in a snack is peanut butter crackers. We even offered to purchase a special alternative for him, but they said it was unnecessary as they have other alternatives.
So we figured the issue was over…when a few weeks later it happened again. This time they claimed he grabbed another student’s snack and ran off to eat it before they could stop him. Now, my little one can be a little bit of a hard-head and I can potentially see this happening, so again we talked to him about peanuts and how dangerous they are to him.
He continued to adamantly deny doing that and said Mrs. gave them to him. We then decide a meeting with the principal is in order, not to blame the teacher or accuse her of lying but to hopefully get this under control. Again a few weeks of no more issues, then it happened again. When I heard their story, I was immediately suspicious.
Once again the story is “he grabbed it and ran off and ate the whole package before we caught him.” Okay, so a six-year-old managed to grab an unopened package of crackers, elude a teacher and an aide, and eat the whole package before he’s caught? Twice? He’s crying and swearing to us he was given them, and after so many incidents we have to start believing him.
Another meeting with the principal and teacher gives us a “Do not worry! This won’t happen again.” We have another long sit down with our son to explain that even if it’s given to you, ask to make sure it doesn’t have peanuts or other nuts in it. Then, the very next school day (the meeting was on Friday) he’s given another snack of peanut butter crackers, but this time he asks if there is nuts in it and THEN he’s given the alternative.
We figure it kind of sucks that the kid has to be the adult right here but at the end of the day he’s learning to ask about nuts. We send an email to the principal detailing the issue and say that the next stop is the school board if he is given peanuts again. We get a response back: “If he’s asking now, what’s the problem? He should have known to ask to begin with. We are teachers not parents.”
We had no issues for a while until this week. Some parent brought in PB&J sandwiches for snack time and he was given one. He forgot to ask about nuts but thought “it was only in the crackers.” But that’s not all. We find out the parent WAS aware of a nut allergy in the class (it’s on the parent snack sheet) and brought in just a jelly one that was made separate from the peanut butter ones.
He was not given this one. We spent a day at the hospital. We’ve had endless talks with him about nuts and do our best to teach him, but some of the blame has to be on the teachers here, right? Do schools not have an obligation to deal with allergies? The school lunch seems to have zero issues with this and has never given him a nut when there are several things on the menu rotation that contain them. He gets a special tray that was nowhere near any nuts.
I will probably consult with a lawyer in the near future. I have a daughter (13) with an ex who was not in her life. We were young, in our early 20s, when she was born. My ex wasn’t ready to give up her life and be a mom yet, so I assumed full custody. She had another child when our daughter was nine and never spoke to our daughter again or really acknowledged her.
I remarried as well and my wife has been an amazing stepmom to my daughter. My daughter was diagnosed with cancer in 2016. I made sure to let my ex know of course and sent periodic updates. She didn’t visit or call and basically, things went on as normal. In December 2019, it became apparent that her fight was drawing to a close and there was nothing anyone could do.
I sent the following email: “Jess, I want to let you know that we got the results of E’s scan today. The cancer has spread significantly with several new growths and no change to the old sites. At this time, doctors are advising that treatment is unlikely to be successful and we would be better off providing her with comfort care instead.
She will be a lot more comfortable and be allowed to go home, which she really wants. L, the doctors, and I have all talked to her as well as child life. She has agreed that it’s time to come home. She is being discharged tomorrow to hospice at home. As always, she would love to see/hear from you.” She replied to that email a short time later with “Thank you for the update.”
She didn’t call or reach out to our daughter at all. After coming home from the hospital, my daughter asked me to mail a letter and to send an email she’d written to her mother. I don’t know what the letter or email said but I know that neither one was replied to. In January, our daughter passed. I sent the following emails: “Jess, I wish I didn’t have to write this email. Our sweet E passed her sleep. It was very peaceful. I will send another email with funeral details. Don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything.”
And then I sent one about the funeral. This is the important part of that email: “Jess, In addition, we have decided on cremation. Please let me know if you would like any of her ashes. I can even get them made into jewelry or put in an urn for you and have it shipped if that’s easier for you.” She replied to that one thanking me and telling me she would rather not have the ashes and that I could do what I liked with them.
We did. We gave some to my mother, had some turned into jewelry for my wife and three younger girls, I kept some, and we buried some in a few of her favorite places. At this point, the only ashes that physically exist are mine, my mother’s, and my wife and daughters’. Fast forward to the end of February, and I get an email from my ex stating that she’d had a change of heart and asking if she could have some of our daughter’s ashes.
I told her that unfortunately, we didn’t have any “left,” but that my wife offered to send her the necklace she had made. She declined and did seem a little offended that we’d offered but it was all we had to give. A few days ago, I received a notice that she was suing me for emotional damages for “failing to offer her our shared child’s cremains” and “offering a used necklace” and some other nonsense.
I’m going to be honest: I feel like the only person who is being emotionally damaged here is me. I’m dealing with a huge devastating loss of my first child, my best buddy, my constant companion while also dealing with the stress of two young kids who don’t understand AND a brand new baby. I feel like I’ve been nothing but nice and communicative to her and this is what I get for it?
I’m angry, I’m tired, and I’m frustrated. Realistically, I don’t even have the emotional energy to fight it and I’m seriously considering throwing some money at it and hoping it goes away.
This has been a really weird morning. I have a five-year-old who stays with me during the weekends. He sleeps all night without any issues, except for the very rare nightmare or sleep talking. Last night, he was the happiest little kid in the world because we put up our Christmas tree. I put him to bed around 9 pm and watched some movies with my fiancée, who lives with me.
Around 3 am, I got sleepy and went to join her in bed. She gets up around 4:30 am to go to work and leaves around 5 am. At 6:30 am, I am awoken by a single low knocking sound. I get up, all sleepy, thinking it’s my kid jumping on the bed. As I exit my room, my heart nearly stopped. I am greeted by four officers staring me down across the hallway.
I don’t immediately register what is going on and wonder if I should serve them a drink. One officer asks me who I am, to which I reply with my full name and ask what is going on. He continues his interrogation, asking if I live with a woman. Fear slowly starts to creep up to me, because I start thinking she was in an accident. I answer that I live with my girlfriend.
The officer asks me if I have a son, to which I reply yes. He asks me where he is. At this point, I lean over the wall and I see my door busted open. I am thinking someone hurt my fiancée and took my kid, so I look at the office, turn, and head down the corridor to his room. I slowly open it, fearing the worst. I see my son in bed, still tucked in and looking at me as if nothing happened.
I come back down the hallway and tell the officer, “He is there, what is going on!?” They tell me to step out into the dining room. I put my hands up as I walk past them. Two officers walk into my room and check inside. I sit at the table and the officer sits next to me as another watches over us. I look to the door and there’s the lady that guards the complex I live in with another lady I have never seen before just peeking into my home.
The officer questioning me tells me someone heard a child crying and called the authorities. He says they got there at 5 am, which would mean they got there just as my fiancée left for work. He claims they called at my door for an hour and a half and no one answered, then they heard “detonations” inside and decided to storm in. They never went outside my window to call me, which would have done the trick.
My apartment has weird acoustics and I cannot hear knocking in the living room from my room. He asks me why I didn’t hear him and I told him I must have been deeply asleep. He asks if I am under the influence and I say I just went to bed late. The officer gives me a case number and tells me to give that to administration so they can fix the door, and they leave.
As the officers leave, I could hear them talking with one of the ladies, who was saying the child was crying too hard for it to be nothing. The cop told her there was no evidence of wrongdoing, and she just couldn’t believe it. I asked my son if he was crying and he said yes. I asked him why, and his reply was totally nonsensical. He said the fan stopped working…
So now I am sitting in an apartment with my son and a broken front door. I fear when I go outside I’ll be judged by my neighbors as the child-beater or worse. I have been trying to understand the timeline of events. I went to bed at 3 am and my fiancée got up at 4:30, then left at 5. If the officers got there at 5 am as they claim, then the call must have happened around 3:00-4:30.
My son must have stopped crying before my fiancée got up and didn’t resume his crying for the rest of the night. The officers get here at 5 and hang outside my door until 6:30 when they hear the “detonations,” NOT a crying child. My son had no signs of having been crying and he even stood next to me on his own during the questioning. What the heck?
My girlfriend and I rushed into moving in together, and after two weeks of living together we realized it wasn’t going to work. She agreed to move out by the end of February…but now she refuses to leave. I have one bedroom in my apartment, and I am tired of sleeping on my couch. But wait, it gets worse. Lately, she has started denying me entry into my own unit.
She uses the deadbolt on the inside and pretends to not hear me. Last night when I came home around 11 pm, I discovered I couldn’t get into my apartment as she had bolted it. After pounding and calling for an hour, she started screaming at me to go away. I ended up calling the authorities, who after talking to her briefly told me to go find somewhere else to stay for the night and said I needed to leave.
I slept all of last night in my car. This morning, after she left for work, I removed the deadbolt from my door. Oh, and the piece de resistance. I also discovered a complete and utter stranger sleeping in my living room, along with another girl passed out in my bed. After I kicked them out, my ex came home and told me I have no right to kick out her guests.
She called the authorities again and the officer said it was a civil issue. Tonight I have a late shift again, and I guarantee you the same thing is going to happen. What am I supposed to do?
My sister and I have a strained relationship with our mother and have not had contact with her for months. Our mother took it upon herself to show up to my niece’s school to have lunch with her and brought her a slushy to drink, without my sister’s knowledge or permission. My niece told my sister about it when she got home. My sister called the school and come to find out, our mother is not on the list at all for anything.
So they allowed a stranger into the school and allowed this person to give a drink to a five-year-old all without my sister’s knowledge. The principal is calling my sister later and so far they are trying to make it seem like it’s not a big deal, but we feel differently. The only thing I can think for her to do is maybe call the school board. They risked my niece’s safety and I think they need to realize the gravity of the situation.
I just started work for the first time since having my daughter two years ago. I left her at a daycare with a group size of 11 and three care providers. On the second day, I got the shock of my life. I was driving and saw her walking down the street several blocks from the daycare with a woman I had never seen before, truly never.
I jumped out and asked what was going on, and the woman said she’d found my daughter a block away walking in the middle of the road. She said was taking her to the station—I have no reason to doubt the woman’s intentions because there was a station on this road. I drove my daughter back to the daycare and the caregivers were unaware she was even missing.
I was in such a state of shock and panic thinking of everything that could have happened to my daughter if she had not been discovered by a Good Samaritan. I just calmly asked questions, gathered information, wrote it all down, and sent it in an email to the owner to get a timestamp and confirmation of the events, as well as notify them we would be withdrawing her.
This occurred last week and I have yet to receive a response from them, despite the seriousness of the situation. I would like to know if I can take action against them for endangering my daughter and if I can alert the other parents as to what occurred so they can keep their little ones safe, without opening myself up to slander charges.
I get my daughter every other weekend. She’s nine years old and her mother bought her a cell phone, obviously to keep tabs on my daughter. This weekend, we were watching a movie when I got a text from my ex-wife asking to speak to my daughter. Now, I don’t attach myself to my phone (unless I’m working) and I got the text about 30 minutes after it came through.
When I saw it, I told my daughter that her mom wants to speak to her and I also texted my ex, saying that we were watching a movie but that I told our daughter that she wants to talk. The movie ended around 9:10 pm and I had my daughter go shower/brush teeth/go to bed. I told her I’d be up to tuck her in. I went into my daughter’s room at about 9:40 and she was on the phone with her mother.
Her mother was SCREAMING into the phone “YOU TELL HIM SCREW YOU!” I took the phone from my daughter and I said to my ex-wife that she was acting very inappropriately and that if she has a problem with me she should bring it up with me, not our daughter. She yelled at me about not allowing our daughter to use her phone, which isn’t true at all.
I asked her to calm down and to keep in mind the effect her words are having on our daughter. My ex was furious and was breathing heavily, obviously biting her tongue. I handed the phone back to my daughter, and said loudly enough for my ex-wife to hear “Daddy is going to leave the room now, please don’t stay on the phone long, it’s way past your bedtime.”
I had to get my stepson to bed anyway. I walked by my daughter’s room maybe 10/15 minutes later and she’s repeating “I’m sorry” into the phone. I fought my instinct to take that phone away because of the torment my daughter was experiencing. I walked downstairs to do some chores and distract myself from my anger. It wasn’t until 10:50 that my daughter came downstairs. She had obviously been crying and was exhausted.
I sat with her in her room, prayed with her, and tried to talk to her about what happened. She was really upset and wouldn’t speak much. I hugged her. My daughter told me there were 11 missed calls from her mother and that her mother said she was just worried about her. I’m sick of my limited time with my daughter being questioned. Divorce is hard enough on children, and I think my ex-wife is making it a lot harder on my daughter than it needs to be.
My boyfriend’s sister-in-law mistreated and over-medicated her autistic child, so I called Child Protective services on her months ago. I was living up there near his family and long story short, when I drove home for the holidays, it was just supposed to be a short trip but everything went south and my boyfriend quickly packed everything we owned and followed me down a few days later.
However, he forgot this one painting that has been in the family for over 100 years that my grandfather gave to me before he passed 14 years ago. Well, my sister-in-law and her husband then sent me a video. Its contents made me rage. It was them setting the painting on fire and saying, “this is for calling CPS, witch.” They’re both clearly seen in the video and called it a priceless painting.
This was literally my most prized possession and my heart is in so many pieces because my grandfather gave it to me so long ago. I would give everything I own just to get it back.
I have been accused of a litany of perversions, some against children, because of the way I dress. My neighbor is so adamant about all of this she’s got me a bit worried. About a month ago, I moved in with my sister and her boyfriend into a neighborhood that’s mostly families. I didn’t expect any trouble. My first introduction to this woman, let’s call her Karen, was my first week here.
I went to check the mail and I wasn’t wearing a bra. I had on a baggy t shirt and basketball shorts, though. Karen is one of those Southern women who spend all day in their yards, pretending to garden, but are really spying on their neighbors. You know the type. She waved at me and I waved back, trying to be pleasant. She came at me, I thought to make a proper introduction, or whatever, but she started lecturing me about not having on a bra.
It was creepy and weird. I am not at all well-endowed, I go without frequently and so far, no one seems to pick up on it, but not Karen. Karen urged me to think of her children and Jesus, who was always watching, and my parents (bless their hearts) she knows they raised me better than this. It was so goddarn weird, I felt like laughing in her face, but I didn’t want there to be any issues so I said I’d be more diligent in the future and Karen went about her business.
Well, wearing a bra wasn’t good enough for Karen, y’all, oh no. Not only is blasting my nips lewd, so are regular women’s shorts and any form-fitting type of bottoms even if they cover my sinful legs. Karen seems to have an issue with the lower half of my body. While my breasts are small and humble, I am “aesthetic” from the waist down.
The second time Karen confronted me, her brood was playing in the street, and any semblance of pleasantness was gone. She threatened to call the authorities on me for indecent exposure in front of her children, insinuated I got off on arousing her tween boys, called me a hussy, a Jezebel, and said that I needed Jesus. Because I was wearing jean shorts.
We live in a nice area, lots of woods, by lakes and parks and I like to go out for walks, but it seems every time I step foot out of my door, there’s Karen making snide remarks or gossiping with other bored housewives. It’s getting annoying. So I got my revenge. I got dressed up in my skimpiest daisy dukes that barely cover my butt and give me legit camel toe, plus I wore a half shirt with no bra on and my abs exposed to check the mail (I do not regularly dress like this).
I must have been quite a sight to Karen, who immediately stormed over once she spotted me, nearly knocking over her lawn chair she stood up so fast. She started laying into me. I just stood there letting her bump her gums for a minute, then I said, “You can stop the games, Karen. I see the way you look at me, I know you want me.”
Her face went beet red and she stammered out, “I’ll pray for you.” Then scurried away. Actually went inside her house.
My girlfriend is a type-1 diabetic and has a heart condition called dysautonomia where her doctor requires her to drink above 120 ounces of water a day. Sometimes she can get dizzy and fall over, however only for a couple of seconds. My girlfriend isn’t a quitter, she is very outgoing and won’t use her conditions in the wrong way. She’s also only 16. But one day, she got a phone call from her manager explaining that she will most likely be fired.
She told her that she should be able to go four hours without water and said she isn’t entitled to water while working. She’s job hunting now and quitting soon.
I was eating at a diner with some friends at 3 am, and the guy in the booth next to us started coughing and gagging. I realized he was choking and went to help him, since I had Heimlich training at my place of work. The guy managed to get the thing out and it flew across the booth. He looked really angry, paid his bill, and left. I felt like a little hero the rest of the dinner and then just kind of forgot about it. Until the most ridiculous thing happened.
Today I got a letter from a lawyer saying that I’m getting sued for battery. They said I bruised a rib when I did this. I have no clue how this guy figured out who I am. I thought I helped the guy seeing as he probably would have choked without help.
I recently came back from college and I couldn’t get a parking decal from my property manager’s office since they’re closed currently. However, I was able to get into contact with someone and was given an online permit to prove that my car can park there. This is an official permit that I paid for and doesn’t expire for months. However, my car gets towed EVERY time at 2 am and I have to pay the driver $60 every morning despite showing him my decal.
He says although the decal is official, the head of my HOA who lives in my neighborhood keeps reporting my car to get it towed and once he gets the order I have to pay him to get my car back. As much as I hate to be this person, I am the only Black person in my community and this guy has made it clear that he doesn’t like my family living there and had always given us a hard time since he moved in three years ago, even though my family has lived here for over 23 years.
I have no idea how to contact HOA or the property manager as my mother deals with them, and every time the car was getting towed except the last time, she was the one to catch them and pay. I will be contacting the HOA with her when she gets home and will try and contact the property manager. My neighbor is a jerk and I will also be speaking to him personally when I get home.
My pregnancy was okay up until the last month. It was 95 degrees outside, I was retaining so much water, my sandals hardly fit on the biggest setting, and I was constantly in pain. It sucked. I run (waddle) to the store for a couple last-minute things for baby, and I was sooo relieved that there was a parking spot for preggos and parents near the entrance.
I pulled in and took a few moments to chug water and gather my things when I notice a car pull up to my left. They were half in the handicap parking stall and yelling something out the window. I rolled my window down and hear “you shouldn’t be in that spot, you don’t have kids. My son shouldn’t have to walk from the back of the parking lot.”
It was something to that effect; I was a little stunned to be honest. I calmly told her that I was VERY pregnant, and this stall was for pregnant women, too. She kept talking to her son, but at me, you know what I mean? “Sorry son, you have to walk in the heat, because this lady parked in our spot.” So, I opened my door and hoisted my giant, land-whale-esque body out of my car.
She was still turned around “talking to her son” and when she finally saw me, I was about three feet away from her window. I bent down (ha, no, I tilted my head down) and said “Do you see how pregnant I am? I think you and your son will be okay walking.” And then I saw the son…and he was like seven?!? The kid can walk. She just sighed and drove away.
I used to hire people for a non-profit organization. We had an application from someone who had the degree the job required, but she was in prison in Louisiana. She was going to be out soon, and she was trying to find a job for when she got out. I thought this was really good for her, but there were some convictions that would rule her out for this job, so I didn’t want to waste her time.
I told her that there was a background check, and some things would rule her out. I asked: “For the sake of expediency, would you like to tell me something about your conviction? ” Her response sent chills up my spine. “Yeah, it was murder.” “OK. You were convicted of murder?” This definitely ruled her out for the job. “Yeah. It was a really messed up deal.” That was it.
She’d been in prison for twelve years, and the best summary she could come up with was, “It was a really messed up deal.” I mean, say it was self-defense? Say he was abusive? Say he was attacking someone else? Say something? You’re carrying a murder conviction around—probably the most important sentence you’ll ever speak is the single first sentence you say after someone finds out about that. You get one sentence.
Convince me you’re actually a decent person, okay? Great! Go! “It was a really messed up deal.”
When my boyfriend was 14, he was living with his mom and sister on a housing estate. It was summer and he liked a bit of light in his upstairs bedroom, so he left the curtains open at all times. That included when he was getting dressed and after having a shower, so if you purposefully stared at his window, you could see him from his waist up (and only his waist up).
Well, their neighbor did not like that one bit. She went pounding on their door, yelling at my mother-in-law that her son was a disgrace, hanging around always naked and exposing himself to her daughter. My mother-in-law told her he had every right to do whatever he wanted in his bedroom, and that if they didn’t want to see him all they needed to do was not to look.
A couple of days went by and lo and behold, the authorities showed up at the neighbor’s door. Turned out the neighbor had been filming and taking pictures of my boyfriend to show to the housing people as evidence of his wrongdoing to get them kicked out. Except that the housing office called the authorities on her for taking pictures and videos of an underage kid and kicked her and her family out.
My ex-wife is suing me for child support…but I don’t even have the “equipment.” I lost it when I was 14 due to a major health problem. I married a woman who at the time claimed to be asexual, however eventually she told me that she was pregnant with twins with a man she was sleeping with. We divorced before the children were born. This is now four years later.
So I received a letter in the mail that said I’m being sued for child support. The children are definitely not mine and we divorced before they were even born. I’m in a horrible situation, my health is very poor and my finances are very, very limited. I’m barely affording to survive here.
The property management company for my homeowner’s association insisted that I had received emails that I never received. So, I asked them to prove that I had received them. I’m a software engineer and at the time I had just finished an enterprise email delivery system; like an in-house, constant contact. I knew the rules of the CAN-SPAM Act by heart. I KNEW exactly how their system worked.
So, this property manager said, “I know how email works. You wouldn’t understand.” At that very moment, I couldn’t help it—I had to put the guy in his place. I started to explain very methodically how email delivery works and how they’d track various actions. I spent about five minutes detailing my credentials and why I was absolutely certain they had never sent me the emails they alleged I received. When I was finished, the HOA board just agreed to waive the fines.
I have rheumatoid arthritis, a condition that causes severe chronic pain. I take a narcotic pain medication as part of pain management, but yesterday, my doctor decided to increase the dose. That’s when it all went wrong. My pharmacy did not stock the medication in this dose, and neither did any other local pharmacies, so my doctor called around, and found this boutique-like compound pharmacy in an upscale neighborhood that had it.
He called the pharmacist, explained the situation, and sent me over there. The moment I walked through the door, I was greeted with hostility. The pharmacist angrily asked what I was doing there because he had not seen me before, and when I told him that my doctor had called him, he said he did not remember. When I showed him my prescription, he rolled his eyes and said, “Oh you like narcotics. Give me your ID and insurance card.”
This irritated me, but I complied. When he pulled up my patient profile, he ran a background check and asked why I was trying to fill this prescription when I had gotten one two weeks ago. I explained that I had been given that medication, and my doctor was giving me another prescription to increase the dose. His response? “Well, I’ll see to it that you won’t see this prescription until you bring the old one back. You’re probably selling these pills to your little friends.”
I was frustrated, but I told him that was no problem, and that I’d have to go back home to get the old prescription and that I would return in a day or two. But he wasn’t finished. As I was walking out, I heard him mutter, “She probably has to get those pills back from her crackhead friends.” This was a day ago, but I’m still very hurt and angry. I never fill CII prescriptions early, never misuse them, and I was nothing but polite to that man.
My fiancé’s mother is a single mother, and she is waayyy overly attached to my fiancé. She seems to think she is entitled to be a part of every aspect of my fiancé’s life and that she must always come first in all situations. For example, she was livid when we got engaged because we didn’t visit her first after the proposal. She pitched a fit that we had stopped by my parents’ first to show them the ring.
When we did arrive at her house, she was so angry that she ended up throwing a cake at us in her driveway. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. She has made my life a nightmare since we got together, but it became much worse when I got pregnant. She has made numerous attempts to convince my fiancé to leave me because she doesn’t believe I am pregnant with his baby.
Her “proof” is that I was too fat, so I must be lying about the due date. This is just one of the many things she has done to hurt and embarrass me. We have limited our contact with her as a result, but she always seems to find a way to weasel back in. So, last week I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Both our families were not able to come to the hospital and will likely not be able to visit in person for a while.
My parents told me they planned to decorate the front of my house to welcome the baby home, and my mom said she had ordered a bunch of things off Etsy for the occasion. When I arrived home, I was surprised to see that there were no decorations. I didn’t think much of it and just assumed my family had run out of time. It wasn’t like them to forget, but I assumed there was a good explanation. Then I got a heart-stopping phone call.
My mom called me after I was settled and asked me how I liked the decorations and presents. I asked her what she was talking about and told her that there was nothing outside when I got home. My mom proceeded to text me several pictures of my house fully decorated in pink baby gear. I also noticed several wrapped presents on my porch in the picture.
They were also missing along with a large banner, balloon arrangements, and several other decorations. My mother told me one of the presents contained a little sweater knitted by my grandma that I wore as a baby. I had been looking forward to receiving this and passing it on to my daughter. I was extremely confused as we live in a rural area so porch pirates are not very common.
I asked my fiancé to check our security camera. He pulled up the footage and we were both shocked at what we saw. We saw his mother taking everything down and putting it all in her car. The footage was very clear and you can easily see her license plate in the video. My fiancé was livid and immediately called his mother. She tried to deny it at first but soon admitted what she had done.
She claimed she was angry that she was not given the opportunity to decorate our house herself. She said my family had insulted her by excluding her, and she began to cry about how horrible we are to her. My fiancé was not having it. He said she had one hour to bring everything back to our place or he would be calling the authorities.
She then laughed and said that she had already thrown everything into a donation bin and told us good luck finding it. My fiancé has already driven around to several donation bins in the area to check but hasn’t found anything yet. We now agree that she will have no contact with our child in the future. I am beyond done with her and I just hope this is all over.
The bride asked me what color her bridesmaids should wear (I was one). I told her that given all five of us were redheads, a pale, pastel lilac is the only color that should be avoided, as it makes us look dead. Guess what dresses she picked? Floor length silk, pastel lilac. I assumed she’d forgot. Her sweet husband later told me, completely nonplussed, that of course the bride has to put bridesmaids in awful dresses because she had to be the prettiest on the day.
During an exit interview with my last job, HR asked me where I was going to next. HR: So, what’s the name of the company you are moving to next? Me: I’m not really comfortable disclosing that. HR: Are you sure? It would really help us out. Me: I’d rather not say. HR: It’s company policy. You need to tell us. This is where I snapped.
Me: I said NO, and if you continue further you’ll be hearing from my lawyer. I told my old boss this after I left and he was absolutely shocked. HR has no right to know anything about the next place you are moving to. It’s literally none of their business but they tried to press it out of me anyway, more than likely to call them up and talk bad about me.
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