When we just started dating, my husband told me how he met his best friend. 

He and his best friend were in the same class, but they were far from friends. Not only that, but [Friend] was the class bully and [Husband] was the meek victim.

[Husband] does not remember everything anymore, but he said that [Friend] was once again annoying him by poking his back. He had done this for months, so something finally snapped in [Husband]. He got up, turned around, grabbed [Friend], and tossed him over two rows of tables. He then jumped after [Friend] and started punching him. According to [Husband], adrenaline and rage combined are one h*** of a drug.

The teachers were aware of the bully situation, but since [Friend] made sure no one was looking, there was no proof of it. So, to the outside, it looked as if [Husband] had gone mad for no reason!

The teacher stormed at the two, pulled them apart, and yelled:

Teacher: “Enough! And now you two are friends!”

[Husband] calmed down and [Friend] nodded. [Friend] never bullied anyone again, and they indeed became friends. [Friend] eventually became my husband’s best man at our wedding. [Friend] told me he needed someone to “punch some sense into him” and was thankful [Husband] was the one to do it.

Growing up, I was always bullied at school, but it got especially bad when I started dating when I was fifteen. In less than a week, all kinds of rumours started circulating claiming we had been “caught” doing all kinds of inappropriate things all around the school, even though we didn’t even hold hands at school.

Science class was one of the few places I was safe. The teacher was the best I’d ever had. Not only did he make each lesson engaging and interesting and talk to the students rather than down to them, but he also had zero tolerance for bullying. However, he had a unique way of dealing with bullies.

One day, in science class, I was focusing on my work while in the background I could hear the usual bullies whispering about me and laughing. I ignored them. While the teacher was writing on the board, one of them sidled up to me.

Bully: “Hey, [My Name], is it true you’re going out with [Boyfriend]?”

I nodded uncertainly. This made the bully and his other friends start laughing. The bully suddenly gave a really creepy grin and he leaned in toward me.

Bully: “So… have you given him a blow job yet?”

His group of friends laughed louder. Everyone in the class started staring at me. I wanted nothing more than to be out of this conversation.

Teacher: “Um, [Bully], I think you’ll find that’s none of your business.”

The bully suddenly turned, unaware the teacher was right behind him.

Teacher: “That’s an extremely inappropriate question, and I don’t want to hear you say anything like that again.”

The bully rolled his eyes, turned back to his friends, and opened his mouth to make a comment. Before he could, the teacher grinned suddenly.

Teacher: “Besides, [Bully], if you’re looking for tips on how to give head, there are far better, more appropriate ways than asking your classmates. Try looking on the Internet instead — just not during class, okay?”

The bully’s friends suddenly burst out laughing and the bully shut his mouth, went red, and moved away from me. The teacher then carried on with the lesson as if nothing had happened. At the end of the lesson, I was the last one out, and the teacher asked me to stay behind. He told me that if anything like that happened again to come and speak to him and he would help me raise a sexual harassment complaint because things like that were not okay. Luckily, after his help, I never needed to, but it was nice to know I had help if I needed it.

This took place in the summer of 1975. At the time, my sons were nine and seven, and they were in the Cub Scouts. Like most kids, they quickly made friends with the other kids, and as a dad, I made friends with the other dads that volunteered. Most of us got along well with the families except for [Mother] and her son.

[Mother] was extremely clueless about her own son and basically refused to parent him. She was more into the lifestyle of a mom, being in mommy groups, and spending her husband’s money rather than being a good parent to her son. The dad was a good person but worked a lot so he was absent. Their nine-year-old son, [Kid] was a NOTORIOUS BULLY. He was overly aggressive, he hit other children, he stole items, and he was extremely disrespectful toward other adults. When the other parents brought this up, [Mother] would make constant excuses for him.

Mother: “He’s just a boy! He’s just expressing himself! Your kids started it!”

What made it worse was that [Mother] would pacify her son’s behavior with sweets, toys, and other things that he wanted.

Because of this, the other parents and I didn’t invite [Mother] and her son to events that took place outside of Scouts. [Mother] would often call our home about getting sleepovers or having her son play with our kids, which we were adamant about not happening. If we didn’t give in, she said:

Mother: “You’re bullying my son by excluding him! How could you do that to a child?!”

She also threatened to call the governor for discrimination because she’s a baptist.

In late June, the other parents and I were talking about a beach trip to Santa Cruz and bringing our families with us. We talked through everything among the ten other moms and dads, planning this out. [Mother] must have overheard what we were saying.

Mother: “Can you take my son with you? I have to do something with my husband.”

Me: “What?! Where?”

Mother: “To Santa Cruz.”

Me: “Uh, no. You and your son are not invited. This a friends-only trip.”

Kid: “You’re a big meanie!”

He kicked me in the leg and ran away.

Mother: “Look what you did! Child hater!”

She chased after him.

Because this was a big trip, we decided to go shopping and hit the road on Friday. We had to do lots of shopping in bulk to reasonably feed twelve adults and eighteen kids.

My wife and I, along with four other parents, were watching the cars and keeping the kids occupied. For a brief moment, I turned my attention to my car to turn the air conditioning up cause my kids said that they were hot.

I turned back around and [Kid] was there with his bag and [Mother] was peeling out in her station wagon. We are all just in shock, asking ourselves, “Is this really happening to us?”

The boy’s mother had given him a note that listed his allergies and an emergency phone number. We called — no answer. We couldn’t leave the kid there alone and we were not going to bring him with us, so we opted to call the police. We put the kid in the car to keep him out of the sun, and we made the call. We report [Mother] for the abandonment of her child. They sent an officer out in about fifteen minutes.

As the other parents and I were heading back to the cars to wait for the police, we saw that [Kid] was pulling my four-year-old daughter’s hair. The reason why? The kids had some snacks in the cooler and didn’t want to share them with [Kid]; he didn’t ask them nicely, just demanded that they give him food.

As we ran toward the cars, ten of the boys pulled [Kid] off of my daughter and started to BEAT HIS A**! Now, the kids had two years of rage toward this kid bottled up inside, so what took place wasn’t surprising.

By the time we got there and broke up the fight, [Kid] was bleeding and crying. He called us all mean and started cussing us out and hitting things.

Kid: “I want to go on the trip! I want to go on the trip! I want to go on the trip now!”

He kept parroting this over and over again until I yelled at him to shut up, which only made him cry more. Now, I will admit I was probably in the wrong here. Maybe I should have extended some compassion, but my child was crying and being harassed.

The police arrived soon after and we explained what had happened.

The police took [Kid], and apparently, he was dropped off at his father’s job. [Mother] received a child neglect charge. When she saw that our kids had beaten [Kid] up, she tried to charge our kids for assault. It was dropped because it was self-defense.

I used to work a schedule that was seven days on, four days off. My neighbor and best friend was a work-from-home mom. On my days off, if the weather cooperated, I would take my two little mutts and the neighbor’s three girls, ages five, seven, and eight, to the local dog park. It was perfect. The play area was right next to the dog park, so I would take my energetic fluffballs to the dog park section and keep my eyes on the kids while they played, and my neighbor got a couple of hours of kid-free time. (The dog park required that you stay in the fenced area with your pets, and the play area only required you were always within view of your kids.) I always handed the kids one coin purse each with enough change to get a snack and drink from the vending machines.

On one trip, I realized I had left one of the coin purses at home. I didn’t want to just hand one of the kids loose change; experience had taught me that loose coins always fell out of their pockets. I dug in my purse and found some lemon drops in a round tin with a pretty snug-fitting top. I only had a few candies left in the tin, so I popped one in my mouth and offered the others to a few people sitting on the bench next to me in the dog park. I then put one of the kids’ coins in the tin and sent her on her way. She immediately noticed the jingling noise the coins made in the tin and had almost as much fun playing with the tin as she did on the playground. Of course, the other two wanted tins, too, so I promised I’d buy another three-pack of the lemon drops and they could have the tins as soon as they were empty. 

We were out at the park another day, and I had just emptied a lemon drop tin for the third kid, who was ecstatic. Once they all had their coin tins, they ran off, jingling them at each other.

After about thirty or forty minutes, I watched a girl obviously older and bigger than my neighbor’s kids run up to them from across the playground and make several attempts to grab at the kids while they ran away from her. At first, I thought they might be playing some sort of game, but I heard the oldest kid start yelling, “KNOCK IT OFF!” She only does that when someone is doing something she really doesn’t like. The older girl backed off and ran out of the playground.

I called the kids over.

Oldest Girl: “She was trying to take our coin tins!”

Me: “If she comes back and causes any more problems, come straight to me.”

About an hour later, I saw the girl come back hauling a ticked-off-looking woman with her. The woman went right up to my neighbor’s kids and said something I couldn’t hear. All three of them ran straight to me.

The woman followed them into the dog park and stormed up to where I was sitting.

Woman: “Your kids have been teasing my daughter with their tins! You or one of the kids needs to give her a tin, and you should all apologize.”

Me: “I’ve been watching the kids the whole time, and there was no teasing involved. Your daughter ran clear across the playground and tried to take the kids’ tins without provocation.”

Obviously, the mom didn’t want to hear this.

Woman: “You’re lying! Give my daughter a tin!”

Me: *Looking her directly in the eye* “No.”

She looked so shocked you’d think I’d hauled off and slapped her. 

Mom: “No?! No?!”

Me: “No.”

Mom: “You have to give her a tin!”

Me: “No.”

Mom: “Why the h*** not?!”

This is something I really hate: people who absolutely refuse to accept “no” as an answer. They want you to give them a reason for the answer so they can argue with your reasons since “no” all by itself is a declarative statement that doesn’t really leave room for arguing. I don’t play that game. 

Me: “I said no. Now, either get out of my face or I’m calling park security.”

The mom stood there staring at me until I started obviously looking at the sign with the security office number on it and dialing my phone. She then stormed off in the direction she had come from and her daughter went back to the park.

I watched the daughter and the kids like a hawk until it was time for us to leave. She looked my way a few times while moving toward the kids and backed off when I glared at her. 

On the way home, the oldest kid asked me if I even had any more tins. I told her truthfully that I still had one leftover, which was almost empty, and I would have given it to the girl had she asked nicely. All three kids piped up that the girl had never asked them; she just ran up and tried to take them. I explained that there are some people in this world who behave like that, and it’s important to avoid them if you can and stand up to them when you can’t, or they’ll never stop taking from you because they will never be satisfied with what they have. 

I tell this story now because the middle child just did a presentation for her senior class about people who positively influenced her life, and she told this story. She ended by shaking her tin in the air, and her sisters shook theirs from where we were sitting in the auditorium. Then, she pointed me out while I was ugly-crying, so posting this is my revenge.

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When I was in high school, I was a huge nerd. I loved reading and did very well in class. Most of my classmates made fun of me, but I didn’t mind. The worst, however, was this one classmate who pretended to be my friend so she could copy answers from me. A friend warned me that she was making fun of me behind my back for being a nerd and bookworm.

Fast forward eight years later, to our early twenties. I was with [Friend], and we ran into [Classmate] at the mall. She started bragging about a recent trip to Australia.

Classmate: “My husband and I had such a great time! And look, I bought this gorgeous bracelet!”

Me: *Politely* “Oh, nice. Abalone shell is very pretty.”

Classmate: *Looking shocked* “No! It’s Australian opal!”

I took a second look. Yup, it was definitely an abalone shell, the kind commonly known as “Sea Opal”.

Me: “Err… I think they gave you the wrong information.”

I was trying to think of a nice way to tell her she had been scammed.

Classmate: *Stroking the bracelet* “The salesman told me it’s Australian opal. And I bought it in Australia, which is famous for opal.”

[Friend] and I made our excuses and left. [Friend] turned to me.

Friend: “So, was it really an abalone shell?”

Me: “Yes, real opal does not look like that.”

I explained how to tell the difference and showed her photos from Google.

Friend: “Ha! So, it pays to be a nerd after all! See what she gets when she makes fun of nerds!”