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Driving Lessons For Kids

, , , , , , | Related | March 3, 2020

My wife, my sister-in-law, my young son, my young nephew, and I were at an amusement park that’s geared to the younger set. My nephew is nine months older than my son, but they were both about five or six years old. They were about to get on the bumper cars.

There was a big sign about safety so I yelled out to my son, “[Son], no head-on collisions… so just T-bone [Nephew].” My sister-in-law laughed and then scolded me.

They Parked On Using Their Children For Parking

, , , , , | Right | March 3, 2020

(I work at a farm park — halfway between a petting zoo and a theme park, centred around farm animals. During busy times, staff go out into the car park to direct traffic and make sure customers aren’t parking incorrectly. It is a particularly busy day, and we’ve moved to our overflow car park, which is a little removed from the entrance, but no more than two minutes’ walk. A woman drives up to me and I direct her into the overflow park, but she doesn’t stop, and instead pulls up by me and winds down her window.)

Customer: “Is there not anywhere closer? I’ve got my little girl with me.”

(For reference, the park is aimed at two- to eight-year-olds. Everyone has their children with them.)

Me: “I’m afraid not, madam. It’s an incredibly busy day for us, and we’ve filled our two main car parks already.” 

Customer: *craning her neck to look past me as if I’m hiding something* “There must be somewhere. We can’t walk this far; she’s only three!”

Me: “I’m very sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. It’s a busy day.”

Customer: “Do you have disabled parking?”

Me: “Yes, for blue badge holders.”

Customer: “My daughter is three! There must be somewhere nearer. I’m going to have a look.”

(She drove away. Five minutes later, she was driving out of the park, looking mildly confused. I got called onto my lunch break around that point so, luckily, I didn’t have to face her coming back round. I’m not sure what she thought I was doing — trying to hide the best spaces for some reason?)

Patience For Park Plushes Pays Off

, , , , , | Related | February 13, 2020

(When my son is eight, our family goes to a certain theme park with a mouse mascot. We have long had the rule that when we’re at amusement parks, one souvenir may be picked and it must wait to be picked up at the end of the day; for this trip, the former is amended to “one souvenir per park segment.” One day, my son picks out a hand-sized plush of a certain alien character and while he’s clearly eager to take it home, he patiently waits while enjoying all the rides and attractions we go on. After picking up his older sister’s souvenir, we head for the exit near the cart where he spots the plush and walks up to the staff member manning it. Unfortunately, it quickly becomes clear that there aren’t any of the small plushes out anymore, but we ask the staff member anyway.)

Me: “Excuse me; do you have any of the small [Character] plushes left?”

Staff Member: “Sorry; they’re all gone.”

(My son looks absolutely heartbroken but doesn’t complain. We start to leave, but then I stop us and turn to my husband.)

Me: “We’re getting him the next size up.”

(We did, indeed, get him the next size up of the plush, and he still has it to this day.)

When You Become A Parent, You Become The ONLY Parent

, , , , | Right | February 7, 2020

(I’m working a kiddie ride at an amusement park, and the ride is full. A little girl rushes to get on, but I stop her.)

Me: “Excuse me, sweetie. Can you wait?”

(The little girl ignores me, so I gently grab her and stop her from sprinting up the stairs. Her mother steps forward.)

Mother: “She’s only two.”

Me: “It’s all right.”

Mother: “You should be able to deal with little kids; it’s your job.”

Me: “I’m fine, miss. The ride’s just full, so I couldn’t let her on.”

Mother: “You could have told her parents.”

Me: “I don’t always know who the parents are, miss.”

Mother: “You could have looked up and seen me standing right here.”

Me: “Along with seven other parents.”

(She got all pissy and grabbed her kid and ran off.)

Don’t Want To Hangul Out With Dad Anymore

, , , , , , | Right | February 1, 2020

(I am twelve years old. We are at a popular theme park where there are “pavilions” from about a dozen countries with employees from the various places. We are in the China section and I have asked to buy a parasol. My dad does not like these theme parks and is very hot and cranky.)

Me: “May I buy a parasol, please?”

Employee: “Of course! Would you like your name written on it in Chinese?”

Dad: “Hey, can you write her name in Korean, instead?”

(My mom and I stare open-mouthed at my father.)

Employee: “Sorry, sir, but I do not know how to write in Korean.”

Dad: “God, I can’t understand why you won’t just put her f****** name in Korean!” *stomps away, my mom chasing after him*

Me: *to employee* “I am so sorry for him. My name’s [My Name].”

Employee: “It’s okay. Here you go — your name in Chinese!”

(To this day, we haven’t had the guts to ask my dad why he thought the Chinese employee would write my name in Korean!)