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How To Give Your Kids A Very Un-Merry Christmas

, , , , , , | Related | December 23, 2021

My parents divorce when I’m about six years old, and my biological father moves to a different city. When I’m eight and my brothers are ten and twelve, we spend our first Christmas with my dad instead of with Mom.

Everything is fine for the first few days, though our father takes us daily to his parents’ house to play with the kids there — they work for the government taking care of children whose parents cannot look after them — while he sleeps on their sofa. We don’t get affected by it because it’s the normal procedure every time we visit.

But then, we wake up on the twenty-fourth, and our father is nowhere to be seen. We look around his apartment and find nothing — no note and not even food in the fridge. Since we are three children in a really bad neighborhood — my father’s house has been robbed three times at this point — my oldest brother calls my mom back in [Hometown] to ask what to do. They talk for a bit and she calls back later.

Brother: “She said Grandma and Grandpa will be here soon and to pack all our things.”

We do as we’re told, and half an hour later, our grandparents show up.

Me: “Where’s Dad?”

Grandma: “He had a very serious emergency at work, so you three are going to spend Christmas with us.”

They take us to their house, and I proceed to have the worst Christmas ever. My brothers and I end up sitting alone at dinner at a small table, and at night, my grandfather distributes BOXES of fireworks to the children. Imagine twelve children — not counting us — ages five to fourteen, all armed with fireworks. There is so much smoke that I get dizzy and I cough all night.

And because we are not supposed to be there, we also have no presents. As soon as I set foot back inside, my grandma shoves two unwrapped board games into my hands, no “Merry Christmas” or anything, and walks off. I found out later that what she did was unwrap presents aimed at other kids and give them to us, not caring what it was; my brother got a ball, despite his dislike for sports.

Many years later, nearing another Christmas and talking to my mom about bad holiday experiences, I recall this whole story.

Mom: “A ‘very serious emergency’?! Is that what they told you?! Yeah, I guess the police coming for him would have been an emergency!”

Me: “What?”

Mom: “When your brother called me, your father didn’t answer my call, so I called your grandparents. You know what his ‘emergency’ was? [Girlfriend] booked two nights for them at [Seaside Resort]. He abandoned his children without a word to go spend Christmas at [Casino]!”

Me: “…”

Mom: “And you know what? Your grandparents didn’t want to pick you all up! They said they already had too many kids, with [Favorite Grandkid] coming, and that they didn’t want the hassle of three more kids! They agreed and rushed to get you only after I told them that as soon as I was done with the call, I was calling the police and coming myself to pick up my kids — their d*** grandchildren — and I was having that b*****d arrested! That’s why I never allowed him another holiday with you!”

So, to recap, my biological father abandoned his three young kids in a dangerous neighborhood to go gamble with his girlfriend, and my grandparents refused to take care of us because it would have been “a hassle” to accommodate their grandchildren for Christmas in an emergency. I cut ties with that whole side of the family as soon as possible.

We Wonder Why He’s Going Through A Divorce?

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: ethan12984 | June 27, 2021

Me: “Thank you for calling [Hotel] in [City]. This is [My Name]; how can I help you?

Guy: “Hey, I’m going through a divorce right now and have been staying there a lot. I want the cheapest room that you can get me for the next two nights, but I will probably end up staying for about a month.”

Me: “Okay. What is the name that you have stayed under in the past?”

He tells me.

Me: “All right. I have your profile pulled up here. With your rewards, membership you should qualify for a discount that will bring the rate down to $88 before tax, about $101 after tax per night.”

Guest: “I’ve always paid $70 when I’ve stayed there in the past. I know you can do lower.”

Me: “All right, give me a second to check on something.”

I search for past reservations under his profile for the past three years and go through the prices on each.

Me: “It looks like the lowest rate we’ve given you in the past three years was when you stayed with us from [date #1] to [date #2], and the rate we gave you then was $85 dollars before tax, $96 after tax.”

Guest: “Well, I’m going through a divorce and I have paid more than I should have to qualify for a bigger discount. Give me the best possible rate you can.”

Me: “The lowest I can go would be the $84.96 rate that we gave you last time.”

Guest: “Okay, fine. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

I get that you’re PROBABLY going through a divorce right now, but don’t just straight-up lie to me about the rate that we have given you in the past when I can literally just take a minute to look it up. I’m less willing to work with people who demand rates and lie to me.

Daughter Of The Year

, , , , , | Related | June 12, 2021

My parents have decided to get divorced, and while they haven’t signed the papers yet, they’re living separately. It’s their anniversary today, and I see that my sister sent this to our family chat.

Sister: “Happy twenty-second and final anniversary, Mom and Dad!”

We Just Paid Witness To A Stupidity

, , , , , | Legal | May 19, 2021

I am a lawyer, and I do notarization when I have time.

Client: “I would like you to notarize some copies of the separation agreement between my wife and me.”

Me: “I can make notarial copies of the agreement, but only if it has already been signed by all the parties before your own family law lawyers.”

Client: “I just need copies.”

The day of the appointment, a man and a woman show up to my office and start arguing in the parking lot. The argument starts to turn into a shouting match, and I am just about to call the police when they both calm down and walk into my office.

They introduce themselves and, sure enough, it is my notarization client. He gives me the separation agreement and, of course, it is not signed.

Client: “We wrote this agreement up ourselves, and we need you to witness our signatures.”

I like having a license, so I just referred them to a family lawyer. They left my office and, after another two-minute shouting match in the parking lot, got in a car — together — and drove off.

Ah, Children, Part 2

, , , , , , , | Right | December 11, 2020

I’m monitoring a room in a historic house when a little girl of around four or five wanders in. We have the rooms set up with the original furniture, so I try to keep an eye on her.

Girl: “Hi.”

Me: “Hi, honey, where are your parents?”

The girl points to the room she just came from.

Me: “Oh, great! Why don’t you head back to your parents? When they’re ready, you can pop back and I’ll see you again!”

Girl: “It’s just my mummy.”

Me: “That’s great! Is she still in there? Could you go stay with her for me?”

There’s a pause.

Girl: “My daddy doesn’t live with us anymore.”

Me: *Awkward pause* “Oh, no!”

Girl: “It’s okay. He just moved out.”

There’s yet another pause.

Girl: “Daddy moved out so Uncle Pete could move in. Uncle Pete lives with us now.”

Me: *Another, even more awkward pause* “Your silly mummy’s taking a very long time, isn’t she?!”

Girl: “Mummy and Uncle Pete are going to have a baby.”

Me: “OKAY! Back to Mummy, sweetheart!”

Ah, Children