I work at a low-price clothing shop where we sell clothes for every age and gender; thus, a lot of our customers bring their children. This week a woman comes in with her daughter who’s around five or six, maybe.

Woman: “Excuse me, do you guys sell raincoats for children?”

Me: “Not at the moment. Sorry, ma’am.”

The woman continues shopping and queues up at the register after a while. By now, her daughter is crying and screaming loudly, as sitting on the floor without her shoes.

Girl: “I WANT A RAINCOAT!”

Woman: “They don’t have any. I’ll pay for this and we’ll get you a raincoat elsewhere.”

Girl: “GET ME A RAINCOAT OR I WON’T PUT MY SHOES BACK ON!”

Woman: “Don’t try to blackmail me, young lady. They don’t have any raincoats.”

Girl: “GET ME A RAINCOAT OR I’LL TAKE OFF MY UNDERWEAR!”

This continues for a while until the mother pays and leaves the shop. An elderly woman walks up to the register after the mother and her daughter have left.

Elderly Woman: “If she were mine, I would’ve definitely given her up for adoption already.”

I honestly did not know how to respond to that.

I’m wandering around the massive expanse of a Swedish furniture and home decor store with my partner when I hear this over the loudspeaker:

Loudspeaker: “Code Adam in kitchen section. Code Adam in kitchen section.”

We are in the kitchen section, so I look around to see a distraught woman surrounded by three employees. Ah, well, all seems to be handled, I figure, so my partner and I continue to the next section… where I see the toes of some little running shoes sticking out from behind a cabinet.

Me: *To my partner* “Hold on a second.”

I break away from him and find a young boy, maybe three years old, crouching behind the cabinet. He is grinning and he keeps peeking around the corner toward the kitchen section. I move beside him and slide down the cabinet to sit beside him — on the far side so I’m not blocking his view of the kitchen section.

Me: “Are you playing hide-and-seek?”

He looks at me excitedly and nods. I nod back.

Me: “With your mum?”

He nods again enthusiastically.

Me: “Does she know?”

The nod comes WAY slower and is very hesitant.

Me: “Okay. What say we go tell your mum that you’re playing? Then she’ll be ready to play and it’ll be more fun.”

Boy: “Okay!”

He leaps up and we walk side-by-side back into the kitchen section. When his Mum sees him, she breaks away from the group of employees and races to her boy. I nod at her and walk away, back to my partner, who’s flabbergasted.

Partner: “What happened?”

Me: “The mum lost her kid. I just brought him back.”

Partner: “What? How did you know?”

Me: “A freaked-out woman and some kid’s feet? I just figured that they’ve gotta be connected, you know?”

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This is my first time flying alone, and I have a five-hour layover in Chicago. I’ve been traveling since 6:00 am and it’s now 2:00 pm and I am craving human interaction. By hour three, I am bored out of my mind, and I pull out my [handheld gaming system] to pass the time while I wait by my gate.

I see a boy my age across the aisle with the same gaming system. I gesture to our gaming systems.

Me: “Twinsies!”

Gamer: *Sounding annoyed* “What are you playing?”

I’m playing a game that’s known for being easy and only popular with younger kids.

Me: “[Game]. You?”

Gamer: *Genuinely disgusted* “Wow.”

He goes back to gaming. Well, okay, I guess this guy won’t be my airport buddy. I’ll find a new airport buddy. About half an hour later, a stressed-looking mom sits in my row with her screaming baby and four- or five-year-old girl who’s begging for attention. As soon as the mom sits down, she gets a phone call, and she walks a few feet away to answer it, leaving the girl alone. She’s obviously very hyper and instantly runs down the aisle and stops at me.

She points at my chips and screams something in Spanish.

I kind of know Spanish; I know “Dora The Explorer” Spanish and I’ve memorized my quesadilla order in Spanish for when I go to food trucks. That’s about it.

Me: “Hi! Hello! No chip for you, no, ma’am!”

My gamer friend from earlier sighs and is acting as dramatic as possible about this small child acting like a small child. There’s more excited Spanish and giggling from the girl, and then she runs back to her seat and comes back with a stuffed pony from an infamous children’s series.

Me: “Oh, wow… Es eso [Blue Horse #1]?” Is that [Blue Horse #1]?

Girl: “NOOO! Eso es [Blue Horse #2]!” No! That’s [Blue Horse #2]!

Me: “Oh, wow! [Blue Horse #2]! Bonita!” Pretty! “I remember her. I used to watch [Show], too—”

Gamer: *Loudly* “Ew.”

I side-eye him but keep talking to the girl.

Me: “Where’s her hat?”

I point to the pony’s head.

Gamer: “I can’t believe you watch that. You’re a grown-a** adult.”

Me: “I’m nineteen.”

Gamer: “See? Grown-a** adult.”

Me: “I’m nineteen. The show came out when I was nine. I watched it when I was nine.”

Gamer: “You’re a f****** [term for people in the fandom], so—”

Me: “Ay! Don’t say the F word in front of a little kid, maybe?!”

The little girl’s mother suddenly whipped around, gasped, ran over and scooped up the girl, and moved to the other side of the terminal.

Way to go, man. You defended the world from a video game and a children’s series that I did, indeed, watch as a child.

We all sat relatively close to each other on the plane, so it was an awkward fly back.

I’m doing a Christmas craft show, where I’m selling a variety of things. A man and his three kids — a young daughter around four or five, and two boys around eight to ten — come up to browse. The father and one of the boys are browsing quietly, and the girl is making noises of delight. I have this conversation with one of the boys:

Boy: “Why does your stuff cost so much?”

Me: “So I can afford to buy the stuff to make them and so I’m reimbursed for the time and skill I used to make them.”

Boy: “Oh. I wish I could have this for free.”

I don’t really have a response for this, so I turn to look toward the rest of the family.

Boy: “Excuse me.”

Me: “Yes?”

Boy: “I said I wish I could have this for free.”

Me: “Yup. I heard you.”

The father then called the son over to him, gave me an apologetic look, and ushered his family away.

I work at a Christian store that sells Bibles, gifts, apparel, and education supplies. This happens right before Christmas with a very crowded store. I’m helping a couple pick out a train set for their two young children who are playing nearby with a train we have set up.

Mom: “Are these pieces compatible with other train sets?”

Me: “I’m not sure. They should be.”

Mom: “I have some of the pieces in our car. Do you mind if I take one of these pieces from the table and compare it to ours?”

Me: “Not at all.”

The mom takes a train track piece out to their car and is gone for about five minutes. In that time, the dad starts talking to me about how his kids have been sick, they’ve been giving them breathing treatments, they have 102-degree fevers at that moment. I try to sound sympathetic as I inch slowly away from them.

Me: “Oh, no, that’s awful. Poor things.” 

The mom returned, saying the piece fit. They picked out a train set and went to check out. I ended up disinfecting that whole area.