A father and his maybe four- or five-year-old son are perusing used cars in the lot.

Me: “Can I help you with anything, sir?”

I realize the father is reading something on his phone as I have approached and is distracted. His son, however, is VERY chatty.

Customer’s Son: “Daddy needs a second car so Mommy doesn’t see Daddy’s special friend!”

The man grabs his son, almost dropping his phone.

Customer: “What did we say about telling that story, Timothy?!”

CONTENT WARNING: Abusive Parenting

I’m a daycare teacher. Parents bringing their kids to daycare come in all attitudes and entitlements. Some are blatantly unaware of just how badly they come across.

One mom practically runs into the classroom with her three-year-old son being dragged along. I say, “dragged,” because it really isn’t far off. He stumbles and falls twice along the way.

Mom: “Well, here’s [Son]. He has a fever, but I can’t take care of him and I’m already in a rush for a meeting.”

Me: “Are you sure about this? He doesn’t look quite well.”

Mom: “Well, what do you want me to do about it? I need to go. Bye!”

[Mom] darts off without even a hug or a kiss. I can already tell he probably won’t be able to stay here for the day because there’s only so much attention we can give to a single child before we have to get a parent to pick him/her up.

I lay him down on the couch and make him comfortable with a blanket and some water before submitting him to having to take his temperature. It’s well over 39 degrees Celsius (102 degrees Fahrenheit) already, and under any circumstance, that’s well over the limit that protocol has us call the parents to pick their child up and take care of him.

Of course, [Mom] doesn’t pick up her phone, but in her defense, she is probably still driving. I leave her a voicemail message and a text message to come to pick up her child. 

Despite my calling her every fifteen minutes, there’s no response for an hour. [Son]’s temperature has now spiked and passed the 40°C/104°F mark. After calling another two times, I’m ready to put on his coat and take him to a doctor (which means leaving the other children under the care of only one teacher, something that’s actually illegal in this country).

Just when I start to do so, [Mom] comes barging in and completely breaks the serenity and peace of the group (while simultaneously waking two sleeping children).

Mom: “How dare you disturb my important workday by stalking my phone and interrupting my meeting?! Do you even have a clue what I do?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I really am. But your son is so ill and weak that he really needs to see a doctor. But perhaps even more important, he needs to be with a parent. We cannot take care of him and he needs to go home with you. His well-being is more important than anything else right now.”

[Mom] actually gets in my face and snarls.

Mom: “Do… you… really think my well-being is ever important to him when I have a headache?”

At least she had the “decency” to carry him outside instead of dragging him along again. Man, do I feel sorry for that poor little man.

A client of mine came into my office to discuss a new site for his business. With him, he brought his young child.

After a few minutes, the boy spoke up to indicate that he had soiled himself. He was not wearing diapers.

Me: “If you’d like to take him to the restroom to change, it’s just down that way.”

The smell was already quite offensive.

Client: *Nonchalantly* “No, thanks.”

The client proceeded with our discussion unaffected. The meeting lasted for another hour and a half.

Kids are great. As you grow up yourself, you tend to forget how quirky kids can be and you were probably just as quirky yourself.

My son was six or seven years old, and it was cleaning day. The kids were responsible for cleaning up their rooms, getting their laundry to the laundry room and sorting it into piles, and cleaning their bathroom. A couple of hours passed, and the kids say they were done cleaning and ran off to do their own things.

I was busy with my own tasks, so I didn’t pay too close attention to how the kids did with cleaning until I went to get the vacuum. I noticed the vacuum was still where it started, standing in the corner of my bedroom. I knew the kids had not come in asking where the vacuum was, and my wife said the vacuum hadn’t moved.

I peeked into my son’s room. He was sitting on the floor with his tablet, playing some game on Roblox. I noticed he still had some clothes on the floor, his bed wasn’t made, and he hadn’t vacuumed his room.

Doing the parent thing, I started asking him questions.

Me: “I see you haven’t finished cleaning your room, and you haven’t vacuumed, either. I thought you said you were finished, and yet, here we are. Why didn’t you finish cleaning your room?”

Son: “I don’t like cleaning. It’s boring.”

Me: “Okay. What’s so important on your tablet that’s keeping you from cleaning your room?”

Son: “It’s a game I found on Roblox.”

Me: “Oh. You think you should be playing games before you have your work done?”

Son: *Pauses* “No, but I’m tired of cleaning. I needed a break.”

Me: “If that game is so important, could you tell me what it’s about?”

He gets really excited when you ask him about a game he likes playing.

Son: “Sure! In this game, you play as a robot and you go around cleaning house! It’s so fun!”

I started laughing.

Me: “You don’t want to clean your room, but you want to play a video game where you go around cleaning. I suppose you don’t understand the irony behind this?”

Son: “The what?”

Me: “Never mind. Put the game down and finish cleaning your room. Find me when you’re done so I can make sure you did it correctly. If I catch you trying to sneak time on your tablet before you’re finished, you’ll lose the tablet for the rest of the weekend.”

Son: “Ugh… fine. I’ll finish cleaning my room.”

Me: “Don’t forget to vacuum.”

During the time I was talking with my son, my daughter heard us talking and ran to get the vacuum so she could vacuum her room. She didn’t want to lose her phone privileges for not getting her stuff done.

Our store keeps a bunch of candies at the checkout to tempt shoppers at the last minute. It’s a lousy marketing trick but it works. Sadly, it’s designed to work on children, who then demand candy and can kick up a stink if they’re denied.

Child: “Mom, I want this candy!”

Customer: “Not now, dear. I can only afford what I am buying.”

Child: “Then put something back!”

Customer: “I’m not going to do that, [Child].”

The child initiates a tantrum, and the poor parent looks tired and like she wants to give up. While continuing to scan the items, I talk to the child.

Me: “Excuse me, little boy? You don’t want these candies, anyway; they’re made for babies. You’re not a baby, are you?”

Child: *Sniffs* “Nuh-uh. I’m a big boy!”

Me: *Still scanning* “That’s what I thought. A real big boy wouldn’t cry over some baby candy. A real big boy would eat the food his mommy buys and get even bigger!”

The boy thinks this over for a moment and then nods approvingly, although still staring at the candy occasionally. I turn to the mother.

Me: “I hope I didn’t overstep?”

Customer: “Not at all! You were very good. Are you a mother? How do you manage children so well?”

Me: “I work retail; compared to the bigger babies I deal with daily, young children are a walk in the park!”