Poke The Dog And Wake Up The Pitbull

, , , , , , | Friendly | March 20, 2018

(I am attending an annual street festival. It is dog-friendly, so I have brought my dog along. My dog is a Boston Terrier, a type of dog that has bulbous eyes. I’m sitting on the curb finishing a hot dog when I notice that a child near me has started to try to poke my dog in the face with a stick.)

Me: “Hey, sweetie, don’t do that. You could really hurt my dog.”

(The kid says nothing and gives me a funny look, but puts the stick down and turns away from me and my dog, so I think it’s over. About a minute later, the little jerk picks the stick back up and jabs my dog right in the forehead.)

Me: “Hey, kid! Stop doing that to my dog!”

(The kid looks me right in the eyes and then positions the stick to jab my dog again. I grab the stick and wrestle it away from the kid. The kid’s inattentive mother runs over from the other side of the street.)

Mother: *yelling* “What are you doing!?”

(For a few seconds, I think she is yelling at her kid. She, however, stomps right in front of me and continues yelling.)

Mother: “Don’t you dare tell my child what to do! You have no right to tell my child anything! You stay away from my kid!”

Me: *trying to stay calm* “Your child could have seriously hurt my dog. I was just—”

Mother: *cuts me off and keeps screaming* “Then you come get me!”

(I am seriously at the end of my rope now, and we have already gained an audience, so I decide that going to this woman’s level is the only way to solve this.)

Me: *yelling as loud as I can* “SHUT UP!”

(The woman surprisingly does, and recoils slightly.)

Me: *still yelling* “How the f*** am I supposed to go get you when you are all the way on the other side of the street, doing God knows what, when your stinking brat is trying to hurt my dog?! How the f*** am I supposed to know who his mother is? You think I’m going to just sit here and wait for you to show up and learn how to be a parent? Also, if you can’t even pay attention enough to make sure your kid isn’t poking animals in the eye with sticks, are you going to even notice if someone tries to kidnap him? Why don’t you watch your f****** kid, and do the world a favour and don’t procreate again?!”

Inattentive Mother: *spluttering* “Don’t you swear in front of my child. I’ll go get one of the police officers and—”

Me: “You think they haven’t heard us yet, lady? Look! They’re already watching! I’m done for the day, so I don’t care if they kick me out. How do you think they’re going to react to the fact that your kid is trying to injure animals? I have witnesses!”

(The mother’s face had gone bright red by then. She grabbed her kid and started to drag him away. The kid then started screaming that he “wanted to play with the doggy.” I just got up, threw away my hot dog wrapper, and walked my dog home.)

When He Upgrades To Four-Letter Words You’re In Trouble

, , , , | Learning | March 17, 2018

(I teach Sunday School to a group of seven- to nine-year-olds, so there is plenty of squirming and giggling to go around. Today’s lesson calls for me to teach a few words in sign language — “love,” etc. — and I’m going over them, when one of the boys raises his hand.)

Boy: “What does this sign mean? I always have to hold my hand up like this when I need to use the bathroom at school.”

(I recognize he’s making the sign for the letter T, which also means “toilet” or “bathroom” if you shake your hand. I explain it, and the boy thinks for a moment.)

Boy: “What’s the sign for the letter O?”

(I demonstrated, realizing we were getting a little off track, but happy that he was engaged and interested. The boy giggled and immediately began fingerspelling “T-O-O-T.” With only two letters I managed to give an eight-year-old’s sense of humor all the ammo it needed.)

PBJVCR

, , , , , | Related | March 14, 2018

(I’m three years old and I am with my teenage uncle and grandmother. Grandma makes me a peanut butter sandwich, and my uncle gets a movie for me to watch.)

Me: *watches the tape go into the VCR* “Where go?!”

Uncle: “It ate it! Om nom nom.” *goes into next room*

Me: *studies the apparently hungry VCR*

Grandma: *comes into room* “Where’s your sandwich, [My Name]?”

Me: “It ate it!”

Grandma: “What ate it?”

Me: “Om nom nom!”

Uncle: *from next room* “Oh, no.”

(Yup. I fed my peanut butter sandwich to the VCR. Over 20 years later, my family still tells this story.)

The Terrible-Twos And The Terrible Parents

, , , , , | Right | March 9, 2018

(I work at the self-service checkout. A mother and her young son, probably around two years old, come and start scanning their items. The son is very energetic and he starts to climb up on the part of the machine that weighs the items. A messages pops up on the screen saying that there’s an unknown item in the bagging area.)

Me: “I’m so sorry, but this part of the machine is actually a scale, so when your son is climbing around on it, it gets all confused. You won’t be able to continue to scan until he’s down from there.”

(The mom doesn’t speak very good Danish and is obviously a little confused, but she grabs her son and puts him on the floor. He immediately runs out of the self-service area and stands at the front end of the store. The mother looks after him, but then continues her scanning, so I follow the boy to keep an eye on him. Usually, kids will run over to the bakery department to look at cakes, but not this boy. When he sees I’m following him, he starts to run, laughing, towards the store exit. Even though I’m not supposed to leave the self-service area, I decide to follow him, to see if he is actually going to leave the store. I doubt that he will, but our store is placed on a very busy street that has a lot of both bikes and cars. The boy runs out of the store, and I start running after him. I almost lose him out on the sidewalk, because there are people everywhere, but I manage to grab him right before he enters the busy bike lane. I pick him up, and he grins at me. I carry him back into the store and give him to his mother.)

Me: “You better hold on to him. I just got to him before he ran out onto the road.”

Mother: “Oh, okay.”

(She picked him up and held him for the rest of the transaction. I didn’t get a thank-you.)


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A Touch Too Much

, , , , | Friendly | March 2, 2018

(My sister has three children under five and is pregnant with her fourth. She is at a zoo, with her three-year-old and one-year-old in a double stroller, and her five-year-old walking along with her. She turns and bends down to talk with her five-year-old about one of the animals, and hears this behind her.)

Three-Year-Old: “Her name is [One-Year-Old]. Mommy doesn’t let people we don’t know touch her. No touching her.”

(My sister turns around to see an old lady trying to get her one-year-old child out of the stroller. She starts getting up, but as she’s pregnant, so it takes a bit.)

Sister: “I’m sorry, but I’d really rather you leave her in the stroller.”

Woman: “Did you hear what your son said to me? It’s so disrespectful.”

Sister: “I heard him very respectfully stand up for his sister who can’t talk for herself, and follow the rules I’ve given him.”

(The woman now notices that she’s pregnant, and runs over and begins rubbing her pregnant belly.)

Woman: “Oh, and you have another little one! I just love pregnant women. They just glow.”

Sister: “I can see the pattern here, because you don’t have permission to touch me, either.”

Woman: “Oh, you’re a mother. You can’t mind people touching you! I’m sure they’re—” *gesturing to the children* “—climbing all over you constantly.”

Sister: “But they’re my children. You’re not my child.”

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