She’s A Few Eggs Short Of A Basket

(I live in an apartment complex with around sixty units. My unit is one of the farther ones from the parking lot. It is around Easter, and my kids are not at home. It’s not often that they’re not home, so I have to work fast in getting the Easter stuff inside and put away before they get home. This all happens as I am bringing in my shopping — including Easter baskets — from the car in the early afternoon.)

Random Little Boy: *who is maybe five* “What’s that?”

Me: “Just some stuff for my kids.”

Random Little Boy: “Okay!” *runs off*

(As I am heading in with the next set of bags, a woman who is really mad storms up to me.)

Random Little Boy’s Mom: “What is wrong with you? Telling my boy that there is no Easter Bunny!”

Me: “What?”

Random Little Boy’s Mom: “My kid’s Easter is ruined because of you!”

Me: “What are you talking about?”

Random Little Boy’s Mom: “You shouldn’t be running around with baskets. Now, you can go tell my kids that the Easter Bunny is real and you’re just a stupid person or something for having the baskets!”

Me: “Umm. No.” *walks away*