(I have an unusual food allergy to a type of pepperoni that is used at a specific pizza chain. As a result of this, my family never gets pizza from that specific chain, and they buy a brand of pepperoni that’s safe for me to eat — a story on its own — for times we decide to make our own. This happens the first Thanksgiving after I move out, when I visit my family for dinner.)

Dad: “I just realized something.”

Mom: “What?”

Dad: “Now that [My Name]’s moved out, we can get [Pizza Chain we avoid due to my allergy] again!”

(Apparently, he’d been wanting that pizza for 20+ years!)

This happened as my fiance and I were getting ready to move into our own place. 

His mother and grandmother were going through their old plates and other household items to show them to us to see if we’d be interested in taking anything with us. (No, not really, they had very different tastes than I do). 

One of the household items they unearthed was a set of depression-era candle holders. One pair was crystal, and the other was coin glass. They put them off to the side to put away later, and eventually, my fiance and I left. 

Later, they called him to accuse me of stealing a single holder from each pair. When they went to look, they were each missing one. 

As per my fiance’s suggestion, they checked the others they had left and realized that they had swapped them when putting them away. According to my husband, they never apologized for accusing me. 

And he wonders why I don’t get along with his mother.

(A lady comes into my store to sell her console and games. I ring up the games and go to grab her console when this happens.)

Customer: “Oh, no. I’m not selling the console. There’s a game inside.” 

Me: “Oh, okay. So, just these, then?”

Customer: “No, there’s a game inside!”

Me: *trying to comprehend* “So, you brought in the console… to sell the game inside?”

Customer: “Yup! We were in a hurry, so we just pulled it out of the wall!”

(I just silently plugged in the console, took the game, and completed the transaction. They happily walked out with their console.)

Related:
Welcome To Retail, Part 4
Welcome To Retail, Part 3
Welcome To Retail, Part 2

(My four-year-old nephew has had some speech delay issues, part of this involving putting pauses in strange places in his sentences. On Easter at my in-laws, he comes up to me, very excited.)

Nephew: “Auntie [My Name], I know what I want to be when I grow up!”

Me: “Cool! What do you want to be?”

Nephew: “I want to cut people open–” *pauses for a good ten seconds* “–so I can help them!”

(Turns out he just didn’t know the word “surgeon” and had come up with a fairly accurate description to replace that word. And while I was ultimately relieved that he wanted to help people and knew about his delay, I have to admit I was internally asking myself if I was going to be interviewed in the future about if I knew my nephew was a serial killer of some sort.)

When I was about four, my parents decided to get a Pomeranian. This was the first pet I ever had, and my parents were very attentive, making sure I was gentle with him. After a week or so, they trusted me enough with him to leave us alone together, and we were inseparable. I loved playing with the little guy. 

My grandparents were over for dinner one day and I excused myself to play. I was running back and forth from one end of the house to the other, so my parents asked me to stop. That’s when they noticed I had a pillowcase in my hand. They asked me what was in it and I said, “Nothing,” and ran off giggling as the bag started to bark. My parents chased me down and wrestled the bag out of my hands, rescuing the poor Pomeranian from me. When they got him out of the bag, he had doll clothes on him with marker all over his face and paws as if it were makeup and nail polish. 

After giving me a huge scolding, they sent the dog home with my grandparents, where he lived out his life very happily. They decided to wait a while before getting a couple of labs, figuring it would be harder for me to bully a larger breed. Luckily, I grew up to be much more loving towards dogs, but my parents still won’t let me live it down to this day!