Ice Cream Is Sweet Child Of Mine

(I go into a self-serve frozen yogurt shop, where they let you choose a cup size and then charge by weight. When I go in, there’s a small boy with a huge tub, filling it with every flavor and topping he can find. I get a small cup and finish up pretty quickly. The boy comes to stand next to me at the counter after I have already put my yogurt on the scale.)

Me: “This will be all.”

Cashier: “What about his?”

Me: “Um, he’s not mine.”

Cashier: *laughs*

Me: “I’m not joking. He was here when I came in, and has clearly been at it awhile to fill that giant tub. Did you not see him before?”

Cashier: “Listen, I know it will be pretty expensive, but you have to pay for your son.”

Me: “Yeah, I don’t have any children. He isn’t mine.”

Cashier: “Well, whose else could he be? You’re the only other person in here!”

Me: *quietly* “Which means he has an irresponsible mother, but that mother is not me.”

Cashier: “I’m not letting you leave without paying.”

Me: *sighs, turns to little boy* “Please tell this lady where your mom is.”

Little Boy: *looking very confused* “She’s in the car outside.” *holding up a couple $20 bills* “She gave me this for ice cream!”

Me: “Great, thanks.”

Cashier: *looking absolutely disgusted* “Your total is $3.78. How was I supposed to know he wasn’t with you?”

(I just left. I get that it was a weird situation, but seriously, how did she not see the kid in the tiny shop for what must have been at least ten minutes before I walked in? And why on earth would I lie about not being a child’s mother? Parents of the world, please chaperone your kids. Don’t assume an employee is paying them any attention at all!)