Make It An Ex-Pun

, , , , , | Romantic | March 7, 2018

(I’m currently going through a divorce, and my wife is now wanting to take the dog. I tell my friends about this development.)

Me: “[Ex-Wife] is talking about stealing [the dog]. Goody.”

Best Friend: “That’s rough.”

Me: “Is that a pun?”

Best Friend: “Not intentionally, but it works, so I’ll claim it.”

A Hot Slice Of Kindness, Part 4

, , , , , , , | Hopeless | February 16, 2018

(I recently divorced my abusive, controlling husband. I have been awarded custody of our two kids, and he was ordered to pay child support. My ex-husband left us with nothing, has never paid any of the alimony or child support that the court ordered him to, and has constantly done whatever he can to make life difficult for us. Ordering food deliveries has been his latest weapon of choice. One evening I’m standing in the kitchen, looking over the little food I’ve been able to buy, wondering how I’m going to feed both of my children and myself, when there’s a knock at the door. I groan, as I know it’s yet another food delivery that my ex-husband has ordered, and that I’m going to have to explain a painful and embarrassing situation to yet another person. I open the door, and sure enough, there’s a man from a local pizza company here with a large amount of pizzas, enough to feed an entire sports team. I barely manage to return his greeting before I start crying.)

Delivery Man: “Hi, I’ve got an order for… Ma’am? Is something wrong?”

Me: *between sobs* “I… I’m so sorry. You were pranked. My ex-husband ordered all this, trying to hurt me by making me spend money I don’t have. I’m so sorry, but I didn’t order this, I can’t pay for it, and you’ve had your time wasted.”

(At this point, my children start quietly asking me:)

Children: “Mummy, are we having pizza tonight? Can we keep it? Please?”

(Their pleas cut me to the quick, and I start sobbing, unable to control myself any longer.)

Delivery Man: “Your ex did this? To what end? To hurt you? To upset those adorable munchkins that are trying to hide behind the wall over there?”

Me: *sobbing harder* “Yes.”

(The delivery man looks incredibly angry.)

Delivery Man: “Ma’am, all of this is on me. There is no circumstance where I’ll stand by and allow someone to cause so much hurt to a mother and her children. Keep all of this. Whatever you can’t eat, freeze. If you reheat it in the oven, it’ll be as good as fresh. Whenever you run out, call the store and ask for me by name. I’ll bring you enough food to keep you and your kids fed as long as you need.”

(At this point, I am crying so hard that I can barely respond to him. His kindness has completely overwhelmed me, and my children are smiling for the first time in weeks. I try to offer him money, and he brushes my attempt away.)

Delivery Man: “Ma’am, I cannot take anything from you. Your ex tried to use me to hurt you; I’m not going to be used in such a manner. I’ve had my own share of experiences similar to yours, and turning an act of hate into an act of empathy is enough for me. You keep taking care of your kids, and call my store whenever you need.”

(With that, he carried everything into my kitchen, ruffled my childrens’ hair, flashed me a cheerful grin, and wished us all a good night. While I never took him up on his offer to deliver us food whenever we needed it, I will never forget the impact he had on my children and me in the darkest time of our lives. His generosity and kindness not only gave my children a full belly but renewed my faith in the kindness of people. I doubt he’ll ever read this, but if he does, I want to say thank you. He brightened all our lives.)


A Hot Slice Of Kindness, Part 3
A Hot Slice Of Kindness, Part 2
A Hot Slice Of Kindness

Always Room For A Gift

, , , , , , | Related | February 9, 2018

(I am about 13. My parents are on the brink of divorce. My mum refuses to sleep in her room with my dad anymore; instead, she sleeps in my bed, with me. I am weirded out by this, but she’s being unusually sweet and affectionate with me, reading with me, and so on, so I let it go. One day we have a fight — over something I can’t remember, now — and I tell her I don’t want to sleep with her anymore. How strange does that sound?)

Me: “Just leave me alone, Mum!”

(She continues arguing, but I cut her off again.)

Me: “Get. Out! This is my room. Get out of my room!”

Mum: *blows up* “Your room? What do you mean, your room?”

Me: “This is my room! You have your room; I have mine! Get out of my room!”

Mum: “This is my house! All the rooms in this house belong to me! How dare you claim this as your room?!

(My dad has not interfered in this argument up until this point, but he’s finally had enough. He walks up to my room and pokes his head in the door.)

Dad: “[Mum], this is actually my house. I paid for it, and the title of the house is in my name, so it’s my house. [My Name], I hereby gift you this room. It is now your room.” *walks off*

(I was grinning from ear to ear. It was a glorious victory for me, although my mum immediately and inevitably turned her wrath on my dad. They ultimately divorced the next year.)

Some Jokes Never Die

, , , , | Romantic | July 30, 2017

(I’m working as a cashier at a grocery store and ringing up a male customer. After greeting him, I ask him if he needs any bags.)

Customer: “No, mine divorced me years ago.”

Running Off With A Younger Set Of Wheels

, , , , | Romantic | June 19, 2017

(When my husband and I first got together he was in a lot of financial trouble. I helped sort out his finances and it was decided he needed to get rid of his car and buy a new one. He couldn’t get a loan at the time so I did and put the car in my name, which was also done to prevent any repossession from debt collectors, etc. We refer to this new car as his car and the car I already had as my car. We’re now married, his car is still in my name, and we have recently sold my car. Of course, Murphy’s Law, the week after selling my car the battery on his car goes kaput. He has to bike ride to the local auto store to get a new battery. Note: I regularly remind him (jokingly) that his car is in my name and is my car.)

Husband: “You should be doing the bike riding. I have to work tonight.”

Me: “It’s not my car!”

Husband: “Oh really? REALLY? It’s not your car is it? Can I have that recorded?”

Me: “Wait… No! It’s MY CAR! The registration is in MY name!”

Husband: “Registration does not prove ownership.”

Me: “The registration in my name means if you run off with a younger woman I can have you arrested for stealing my car.”

Husband: “Oh, thanks! I run off with a younger woman and all you’re concerned about is the car?”

Me: “You run off with a younger woman and you’re on your own, buddy, but I want the car!”

Husband: “Well, you better hope there is no younger women at the auto store.”

Me: “Oh, yeah? What are you going to do?”

Husband: *putting on a mock sleazy voice* “Hey, baby, I might not have a car right now but I’ve got a sexy bicycle!”