This happened in mid-October when the weather was still nice where I live. I went to our local grocery chain to grab a few things I needed for dinner. I wasn’t using a cart, just a basket. I was wearing a light blue polo, but the store dress code was a dark blue polo with the store logo and khakis. I was wearing jean shorts that in no way were too short but definitely wouldn’t be allowed for any employee of a grocery store

My oldest son, who is three and a half, loves to go to the store and do anything that involves getting out of the house, so I decided to let him tag along and leave his other brother at home with Dad. Grocery trips for us are kind of like our little Mom-and-Son dates, and I usually let him pick out a toy or a treat of some kind. Since outings aren’t happening as often since the [global health crisis], I try to keep things normal and exciting for him.

About twenty minutes into our trip, I had grabbed the few vegetables I needed, and I was just shopping around the canned goods aisle to grab some things I might need in the future. I was putting a can of something back in exchange for a larger version that I didn’t see at first when I heard:

Woman: “MA’AM, I NEED YOUR ASSISTANCE RIGHT THIS INSTANT!”

I figured someone was just being an a** to a nearby worker and carried on. Thirty seconds later, the yelling woman grabbed my arm and pulled me around.

Me: “Excuse me! Can I help you?!”

Woman: “I know you heard me! Help me find the molasses now!”

Me: “I don’t work here, clearly, so how about no? And don’t touch me again. As a matter of fact, we’re in a pandemic and you’re not even wearing a mask, so get away from me.”

Woman: “I have COPD! I can’t wear one! Where is your manager?! That’s a violation for you to even ask about my medical condition! Now—” *gesturing to [Son]* “—go find this child’s parents instead of dilly-dallying around, like you’re supposed to, or else I’ll tell the manager you weren’t gonna give this child back!”

I was completely stunned and pissed.

Me: “For one, I didn’t ask about your medical condition; I said to get away from me since you are above health codes. How dare you accuse me of stealing a child?! Again, I don’t work here, lady, and this stolen child happens to be my son. Are you okay?!”

Woman: “Yes, you did! You did ask me, you little b****! I know you’re a little rotten liar who doesn’t want to get in trouble! Now take me to the manager! You’re no older than sixteen. Who are you keeping this child from?!”

Me: “I am twenty-five years old! He came from my vagina and is my son! I. Do. Not. Work. Here. Get the h*** away from me before I get a manager myself. You are scaring my son!”

[Son] was visibly scared and on the verge of tears at that point.

Woman: “HE LOOKS SCARED BECAUSE YOU STOLE HIM!”

Me: “So now, I’m no longer finding his parents but stole him on the clock?!”

Woman: “SEE?! YOU JUST ADMITTED IT! YOU DO WORK HERE!”

By then, [Son] was crying, so I just grabbed his hand and walked to find a manager as fast as I could. The woman was screaming behind me that she was getting a manager and that I was kidnapping a child, so people were starting to look.

I finally found the manager, and it didn’t take much to explain the situation as the woman was trailing behind me screaming as I spoke to him. He very quickly confirmed that I did not work there. Then, he told the woman to leave for making such accusations and not adhering to local health department guidelines.

The woman, of course, refused, and she started causing an even bigger scene about how we were trafficking humans in the store. She eventually called 911 to report a kidnapping.

She ended up getting arrested in front of a good 150 people. I basically just had to tell the cops my situation and how the woman was following me throughout the store accusing me of stealing my own son, and that was that. I went home and got on with the rest of my day.

[Woman], I sincerely hope a jar of molasses was worth a trip to jail and you received the mental health care you clearly need.

My family is on a long car ride when my husband’s phone rings and he answers it. After a few minutes of conversation, he tells the man to hold on, places the phone face down on his seat, and returns to his earlier conversation from before the call. Everyone in the family knows by now that this means he believes the person on the phone is a scammer, and he plans to intentionally waste their time, so we don’t think anything about it.

A little while later…

Husband: “Wait, do you hear that?”

Me: “It’s the person on the phone.”

Husband: “He hasn’t hung up yet?! Man, if I wasn’t driving, I’d start messing with anyone that persistent.”

Me: “Allow me.”

He hands me the phone. I listen in for a while until the man sounds like he is about ready to hang up before I speak up.

Me: “Hello! Anyone there?”

Scammer: “Umm, yes, hello. Is this [Husband]?”

Me: “That’s my husband.”

Scammer: “Oh, well, I was calling from the IRS about some back taxes he owes. He was going to go get his Social Security number for me. I don’t suppose you know it?”

Me: “Oh, did my husband leave you waiting all this time?”

Scammer: “Yes, it was a bit of a wait. We’re very busy this time of the year, so I’d like to verify that information so I can help sort this out quickly before it’s too late.”

Me: “I’m sorry about my husband. You see, English isn’t his first language, and he sometimes has trouble understanding people on the phone.”

Scammer: “Oh, that’s fine. I understand. I just needed to get—”

Me: “Yeah, honestly, my husband, he… Well, he’s not that bright. He always tends to forget what he is doing and zone out, staring at nothing. He’s a bit special, really. Not sure why I married the oaf.”

My husband has ADD, so he actually does have a slight tendency to forget what he is doing and stare off in the distance when hyperfocused. It’s not a big problem, but the family isn’t above some good-natured jokes at his expense for this. My kids are snickering at the description of their father, and my husband is just grinning.

Scammer: “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. But I was trying to get his Social Security number so I could help sort out these back taxes. Would you happen to know it?”

Me: “Oh, you want his number?”

Scammer: “Yes please.”

Me: “It’s [phone number he just called].”

Scammer: “That sounds like a phone number. I was actually looking for his Social Security number. It’s a nine-digit number, maybe broken up into three smaller numbers split by dashes.”

Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m not good with numbers. Give me a second here.”

I take a second to think up a proper bogus number — and just to stall the guy a bit more. I make sure to sound very confused but sincere when I go back to the phone.

Me: “Umm, I don’t know, but is it 666-42-1337?

I figure he will pick up on at least one of those numbers being clearly bogus, but the man seems to be satisfied with it at first. I assume he runs it through something that spits back that it is invalid because, eventually, he comes back.

Scammer: “I don’t think that is right, ma’am. Could you double-check that number, please?”

Me: “Oh, these numbers are too confusing. Let me get someone who can help me.”

I mute him.

Me: “How often do you think we could pass him back and forth between the two of us before he realizes he’s not making any progress?

Son: “Oh, no, wait! I want to try! Can I talk to him next?”

Me: “Sure, why not? But I’d make him wait a bit longer before picking up. The more of his time we waste, the less time he can dedicate to scamming decent folks.”

I pass the phone back to my son, who unmutes it after waiting a minute or two. There is some dead time after he says each line where the scammer is presumably responding.

I should mention that my son is in middle school and has had two years of Spanish class, which is a far cry from being an expert in Spanish.

Son: “Hola. Mi nombre es Pedro. ¿Cómo estás? ¿hHablas español?” (Hello. My name is Pedro. How are you? Do you speak Spanish?)

Son: “¿Mi madre dice tu necesito un número?” (My mom says you need a number.)

Son: “No sé.” (I don’t know.)

Son: “Me duele mi cabeza. ¿Dónde está el baño? Tengo un gato en mi sombrero.” (My head hurts. Where is the bathroom? I have a cat in my hat.)

Apparently, my son is at the limit of his ability to say things that sound vaguely Spanish.

Son: “Si. Un momento.”

He mutes the phone.

Son: “Yeah, that’s all the Spanish I know. Mom, do you want him back?”

I take the phone back.

Me: “Great! Did you get everything you needed, then?”

Scammer: “I’m sorry, but whoever I was speaking to only knew Spanish.”

Me: “Oh, you can’t speak Spanish? You should have told me.”

Scammer: “Look, ma’am, all I need is your husband’s Social Security number, or yours if you don’t know his.”

Me: “Oh, no, I don’t have a Social.”

Scammer: “Every US citizen should have one.”

Me: “Well, yes, but you see, about that… It’s just that, umm… Wait. You don’t work for the FBI, do you?”

Scammer: “Ma’am, if you are not taking this seriously, I’ll hang up and let you deal with thousands of dollars in back taxes you owe on your own. Now, for the last time, all I need is a Social Security number for one of the residents in your household.”

Me: “Oh, no, no! Please don’t do that! I’m sorry. Look, I’ll go get it right now. Just one second, please!”

I mute him again.

Me: “I think he is finally on to us. Don’t think he’s going to last much longer.”

Daughter: “No, wait! I haven’t gotten my turn with him yet! Here, let me have some fun before he goes!”

I hand the phone back to my daughter. She has always been told she sounds young for her age. She plays this aspect up to the point that she sounds like a little kid.

Daughter: “Hello, how are you?”

Daughter: “I found the phone. Want to talk about My Little Pony?!”

Daughter: “Oh, no, my father’s not here. He got put in jail for bad driving and punching the police. Mama says it’s because he’s always thirsty, but I don’t know why that would make him want to punch someone.” 

Daughter: “No, they took me away from my mama because she kept bringing men that paid to be her boyfriends back to our house and making so much noise with them that I couldn’t sleep. Now I have to stay with some people until my mama learns to love me right.”

Daughter: “Oh, sure, I can get him!”

My daughter now holds the phone up to my nephew, who we are currently babysitting. He is a year old.

Daughter: “Say hi, [Nephew]!”

Nephew: “Hi! Hi! [Excited babbling]!”

At some point, the scammer gave up on us before we got the phone back from my nephew.

Honestly, I’m surprised he lasted that long. It’s so nice to bond with your family over small things, like trolling scammers.

A mother is paying at the checkout.

Mom: “Oh, wait! I have a coupon!”

She grabs her phone from her little boy, maybe four or five years old, who has been keeping himself occupied with it. 

Child: “Mom! I want to use your phone!”

Mom: “Not now. Mommy is using it for the coupon.”

Child: “Why do you have a phone and I don’t? You don’t have that many friends.”

Related:
The Couponator 44: The Clapback
The Couponator 43: The Visionary Gossiper
The Couponator 42: The Malicious Complier
The Couponator 41: The Saga Of The Long-Suffering Wife
The Couponator 40: Armageddon

A mother is checking out, and her little girl, maybe three years old, is toddling about touching everything she finds interesting.

Mom: “Don’t touch that display, [Girl]. You’ll knock it over and ruin it.”

The little girl waddles over to me instead and beams a huge smile up at me.

Little Toddler: “Mommy has a vagina!”

Me: “Uh…”

Little Toddler: “Mommy said I crawled out of it and ruined it!” 

Mom: *Sighing, to me* “That’s not the only thing she’s ruining.”

My two girls are polar opposites. The youngest is kind, easygoing, and content to let her sister decide how every game is played. By contrast, my oldest is a natural leader. She will take charge of a group of kids and is amazingly good at getting them to go along with her dictatorial decrees of how to play. Unfortunately, while I love her dearly, I have to admit that this also means she can be just a tad stubborn and refuses to admit that she can be wrong at times.

As most parents do, I end up placing my youngest daughter’s car seat on the driver’s side (left side, for you non-Americans), which means my eldest is assigned to the right seat.

When my girls were much younger, their uncle ended up staying with us for about a month, and he commandeered both girls as his full-time playmates, taking them out to parks and entertaining them. I admit that I was rather sorry to see my self-appointed live-in nanny leave when it was time for him to go.

Early during his visit, I was driving with him and the kids, and we were pointing out Christmas decorations we saw while driving. 

Me: “Look! There is a Santa on the right.”

Eldest: “Which way is right?”

Uncle: “We talked about this today. Which side do you sit on?”

Eldest: “Oh, I’m right!”

The girls oohed and ahhed at the decorations for a second. After we passed them, I spoke up again.

Me: “[Eldest], I love you knowing which way is right. I’m impressed.”

Uncle: “Want to tell her our mnemonic?”

Eldest: “What’s a ‘new mount tick’?”

Uncle: “How do you know which side is right?”

Eldest: *Excited enough to be practically screaming* “Because I’M ALWAYS RIGHT!”

I thought this was just my brother being silly with the girls as always, but from that point on, whenever there was a question of which side was which, their uncle would ask something along the lines of, “Do you think [Eldest] got her directions wrong?” and my eldest would scream that she was “ALWAYS RIGHT!” and suddenly remember her directions.

By the time my brother left, my daughter had her left and right quite firmly down. There could be no doubt of that fact since she was so eager to find any excuse to explain which way was which so she would have an excuse to declare, loudly, that she was “ALWAYS RIGHT!”

In fact, even her younger sister soon had a firm grasp of the concept by repeating the same mnemonic that her sibling was always right.

A little while later, I was on the phone with my brother.

Me: “I do appreciate you teaching them right from left, but couldn’t you have done it in a way that doesn’t have my daughter shouting that she is always right every day?”

Uncle: “Definitely not! I told you before she was even born that I was eager to be an uncle so I could come over and teach your kids bad habits, didn’t I?”

Me: “But I didn’t think you actually meant it!”

Uncle: “Well, that’s your fault, not mine, isn’t it? In fact, do you know why you should have known that I would do exactly what I promised?”

Me: “Why?”

Uncle: “Because… I’M ALWAYS RIGHT!”