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    Category: Family & Kids

    From The Mouth Of Babes, Part 5

    | Champaign, IL, USA | Awesome Customers, Family & Kids, Top

    (A man and his four children are in the booth next to my family. I am four years old and am sitting next to my younger brothers. We are all quietly coloring at the table. The children at the next booth are climbing on top of the booth and playing with my father’s hat, throwing food, and running around the entire restaurant.)

    Waiter: “Sir, your children are bothering other customers. They need to calm down, or you will have to leave.”

    Other Dad: “They’re fine. They’re just running off some energy.”

    (The waiter is called away to another table. The kids begin raising another ruckus. They are just getting to an unbearable level when a carrot lands on our table.)

    Me: *sets crayon down* “Daddy, may I get up?”

    My Dad: “Um, okay…”

    (I march to the next table and assume an assertive stance with fists on hips.)

    Me: “Excuse me, sir. You really need to learn how to control your children.”

    (I get back in my seat and resume coloring. The other dad turns bright red. He gathers his kids and hurries out of the restaurant just as their food arrives. Later, my parents ask for the check.)

    Waiter: “Actually, sir, even if this meal wasn’t on the house, almost every other customer asked to cover your check for you.”

    (20 years later, my mom still calls this her proudest parenting moment. We even got a $50 gift certificate out of it!)

    Related:
    From The Mouth Of Babes, Part 4
    From The Mouth Of Babes, Part 3
    From The Mouth Of Babes, Part 2
    From The Mouth Of Babes

    Don’t Let Them Push(chair) You On The Price

    | England, UK | Family & Kids, Liars & Scammers

    (We’re selling our old pushchair. It was a gift and not really suitable. Despite it being pretty new and in excellent condition we are selling it for a fraction of the cost. We get a buyer and arrange a date to collect. The buyer and her young child knocks on the door.)

    Buyer: “Hi. I’m here for the pushchair.”

    Girlfriend: “Oh, great. Well as you can see, it is as-new. We must have only used it a few times.”

    Buyer: “Yeah. It looks great. But, I haven’t brought enough money with me.”

    Girlfriend: “I’m sorry, but we did agree on a price. It is already half that you would pay in the shops.”

    (The buyer turns to her child, and exclaims very dramatically.)

    Buyer: “Oh, no, baby! You won’t be able to have a nice new pushchair now. You were so looking forward to it as well!”

    (At this point I go to the door. I can see that the woman has intentionally upset her little boy, to try and make us feel sorry for him.)

    Me: “Look. We agreed on the price and we are not going any lower. You can either go get some cash out, or clear off. This is a bargain. We have lots of other people interested.”

    (The buyer stands there for a moment. I shut the door. Surprisingly, a few seconds later, she is standing there with the money ‘she found in her car.’ It was the exact amount.)

    How To Make Grandma Nun Too Happy

    | Toronto, ON, Canada | At The Checkout, Bigotry, Family & Kids, Love/Romance, Top

    (I am Asian. I work as a cashier at a supermarket. Today I get one of my great-aunts in line. We chat as I am checking out her groceries.)

    Aunt: “So have you found anyone yet, [Name]?”

    Me: “Not yet, Auntie.”

    Aunt: “Well, [My Grandma] is getting anxious, you know. She wants great-grandchildren.”

    Me: “She already has great-grandchildren, Auntie. My cousins have kids, remember?”

    Aunt: “Then, your parents! They want to see you married and settled with grandchildren!”

    (My parents have never made any such demands of me, nor made any indication of such being expected. I remain calm and polite, as I am still at work and my great-aunt is a paying customer.)

    Me: *changing the subject slightly* “I think my sister would have something to say about that!”

    (My sister is both older than me and already married.)

    Aunt: “Oh, yes, that’s right! She did the right thing, you know; marrying properly.”

    Me: “I’m sorry?”

    Aunt: “She married that nice [regional Chinese] boy. Not just [other Chinese], but [regional Chinese], like us. Proper. Your grandma said so.”

    (I am appalled, all the more so because she’s utterly sincere.)

    Me: “…I thought she was joking?”

    Aunt: “Oh no! Very serious. She was quite upset when [My Cousin] married that Vietnamese boy. And all these others, gwailo (white people) and…”

    (She goes on a tirade about not marrying outside the group. I am speechless.)

    Me: “Your total is [amount], Auntie.”

    Aunt: “Oh, I bought too much again! Ah, the boys will eat it. See you soon, [My Name]!”

    (I automatically wave goodbye, still dumbfounded. Finally, she’s bagged her things and gone.)

    Me: *thinking out loud* “Screw this. I might as well join a convent.”

    Next Customer: “I don’t think that’d work for a bright young girl like you, sweetheart.”

    (It is at this point I realize both my new customers are wearing habits and veils.)

    Me: “Oh, crap! Sorry, Sisters.”

    Nun #1: “Don’t be!”

    Nun #2: “We heard what she said. You love who want, when you want, in your own good time.”

    Nun #1: “Besides, running off to a convent doesn’t work like that these days. You need a vocation.”

    (She leans forward to take my hand.)

    Nun #1: “And convent life isn’t all that cracked up to be! You’re a good girl, and a lovely person. We always look for you when we stop by, you know. Take your time to figure out your path.”

    Nun #2: “And if it does lead to us, at least you’ll be prepared! Either way, have faith. Bless you, dear!”

    (I finish ringing them up, and they go on their way. My supervisor walks over.)

    Supervisor: “You all right?”

    (I shrug, dazed.)

    Supervisor: “Go take your break. You’re due for one, anyway.”

    (One of the weirdest and most heartwarming shifts I ever had!)

    They Stole Her Precious

    | Australia | Criminal/Illegal, Family & Kids, Top

    (Having been married just one month, I am very precious and careful with my wedding ring. I take it off only to wash my hands. I’m in a shopping mall bathroom and have just taken my ring off and set it on top of my bag next to me. At the sink next to me is a girl about the age of 12.)

    Girl: “Hey mum! Look what I found!”

    Mum: *in a loud whisper* “Put that in your pocket! Show me later!”

    (They begin to leave. I reach for my ring and find it gone! I see the girl just shoving my ring into her pocket with a big smile on her face.)

    Me: “Hey! Excuse me! I think you have something of mine!”

    Mum: “Mind your own business!” *to her daughter* “Keep walking, honey.”

    (They both flee the bathroom, but I follow and yell.)

    Me: “Stop! Hey! Give it back!”

    Girl: “No! It’s mine, b****!”

    Mum: “You leave my baby alone!”

    (I start to cry. With the mum yelling at me, the chaos brings a security guard running over.)

    Mum: “Thank God! This b**** is trying to steal my baby girl’s ring!”

    Me: “No, no, it’s my wedding ring. I took it off for a moment and she took it!”

    Girl: “She’s lying! It’s mine!”

    Guard: “Enough!” *to me* Do you have any proof it’s yours?”

    (I’m still crying and try to describe it, but the girl and her mum keep screaming over me. The guard has to yell at them to get them to quiet down. At last, he looks at my long thin fingers, and the girl’s very short chubby ones, and he winks at me.)

    Guard: “Okay, tell you what. Whoever the ring fits, that’s who it belongs to.”

    (The guard forces the girl to hand it over, with the mum screaming the whole time. Of course, the ring doesn’t get anywhere near fitting her, and is a perfect fit on me. The guard calls the police and they both get banned from the store. My husband and I are still very good friends with the guard; in fact, he’s marrying my husband’s sister next year!)

    In Line And Out Of Line, Part 2

    | USA | At The Checkout, Family & Kids, Health & Body, Top

    (I’m standing in line at a Black Friday sale, waiting to check out my purchases. We’ve been standing about 45 minutes as the lines are very, VERY long. There is a man all by himself, with no cart and no purchases, standing two customers in front of me. All of a sudden his wife pulls two carts over, with their daughter pushing another one. All three carts are filled completely. They push through the line and get in with him. One of the customers in the line speaks up.)

    Customer #1: “Hey! You can’t just cut in line like that. We’ve been waiting an hour. Get to the back!”

    Cutting Customer: “F*** you! It’s not my fault you don’t know how to shop. Mind your own f****** business!”

    Me: “Excuse me. Would you mind watching your language? I don’t want my son to hear that.”

    Cutting Customer: “You can kiss my a**, b****! That little p**** is going to learn it one way or the other. He’s an ugly little SOB with that hair cut, anyway!”

    My Son: “I’m growing my hair to donate to kids with cancer, like my best friend!”

    (The cutting customer’s daughter decides to speak up.)

    Cutting Customer’s Daughter: “Your little f** friend should just die. Why do they give them treatments for that s*** anyway? I hope he dies, you little a**-wipe.”

    (My four-year-old son starts crying, asking me if his friend is going to die. I try to calm him down. Meanwhile, my friend gets the manager of the store.)

    Manager: “Ma’am, this woman just told me what you said to her son and that you cut in line. I’m going to ask you once to please move to the back of the line; otherwise, you’ll need to leave the store.”

    Cutting Customer: “Now, you look here! You can’t make us move. We’re buying more than $1000 worth of stuff here! And that b**** and her snot nosed kid got what they deserved.”

    (The manager gets on his walkie-talkie and has security escort them out. Upon the managers and several customers suggestions, we file verbal harassment charges on the customers who cut in. The manager made a donation for $500 to the charity that my son’s friend had out in my son’s name. We cut his hair three months later, donating 18 inches, which they made into a wig. His friend made a full recovery, by the way. They both donate their hair about every five years.)

    Related:
    In Line And Out Of Line

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