That’s Certainly… A Thing…

, , , , , | Related | July 26, 2020

I am visiting my parents’ house in California. I am preparing some food for our Thanksgiving dinner and I have my laptop on the counter watching YouTube videos. Most of the videos I watch are videos debunking pseudoscience and conspiracy theories. Some of the video producers have very… unique themes.

My mom walks into the room while I’m cooking and watching.

Mom: “Hi, honey, what are you watching?”

Me: “A man with a pantyhose on his face and a tophat explaining to a woman that water droplets and out-of-focus dust specks on the lenses of weather cameras aren’t a system of planets hidden by a fake sun by the government to cover up the second coming of Jesus to begin the apocalypse.”

Mom: *Pause* “Oh, okay.” *Walks away*

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She’s Going To Stew Over This One For A Long Time

, , , , , | Related | July 25, 2020

My mom makes her infamous chicken stew all the time, which I have learned is her sticking chicken and vegetables in a huge boiling pot of water with a dash of salt and forgetting about it for an hour. It comes out like mixed sludge, and only my dad likes it. My sibling tolerates it, but I am sick of it at eight.

Me: “Mom, I can’t eat this. It’s gonna make me sick!”

Mom: “Eat it; it’s not feces!”

So, I ate it and later, after I went to bed, I was sick. My poor stomach had enough and barfed it up and it was all over me and my blanket; the smell made me barf again. I went and got Mom, who was shocked that her stew would make me sick. My family was, too. 

To this day, they think I went overboard by barfing it up, as she took it pretty hard. I don’t know why they’d think I’d make myself sick, but they do. I know moms work hard at making their families food, but they shouldn’t force it.

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Better Autistic Than Dead From Polio!

, , , , , , , | Related | July 23, 2020

My aunt refused to vaccinate her six kids because of fear of autism. She never changes her beliefs, no matter what evidence appears against it.

Although she didn’t vaccinate any of her kids, kid number five has autism anyway.

Shockingly, she not only continued claiming that vaccines cause autism, but she also began insisting that she actually did vaccinate her fifth child. My mom — her sister — tried to explain that it didn’t make sense that she vaccinated the fifth child but not the first four or the sixth one, and that until the fifth child was diagnosed with autism, she always said that she would never vaccinate any of her kids.

Unfortunately, nothing she said worked.

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Who Do You Call For A Mother-In-Law Exchange?

, , , , | Related | July 22, 2020

My mother — the stereotypical overbearing Asian mother — loves shopping online and receives packages almost every day. She shows my wife a website and my wife orders a dress.

A few days later, my mother calls.

Mother: “Well? What does [Wife] think of the dress?”

Me: “She’s going to have to call customer service. They sent the wrong size.”

Mother: “Make sure you do that before your return period runs out.”

Me: “I know. She will.”

We change the subject and eventually end the call. A few hours later, my wife’s phone rings.

Wife: “It’s your mom?”

I shrug.

Wife: “Hello?” *Pause* “No, I haven’t called yet.” *Pause* “No, it’s okay, I will. I just—” *Pause* “Really, it’s okay. I’ll do it.” *Pause* “Yes, I do like the dress; it’s just the wrong size.” *Pause* “Okay. I’ll let you know when I call.” *Pause* “Okay, bye.”

Me: “What was that about?”

Wife: “Your mom wanted to make sure I call customer service to swap my dress.”

Me: “I guess she really wants you to like it.”

The next day, my mom calls my wife again while she is doing the dishes. She turns on the speakerphone.

Wife: “Hello?”

Mother: “Hello? [Wife]?”

Wife: “Hi, [Mother]. I’m doing the dishes. What’s going on?”

Mother: “I have [Company] customer service on the other line.”

Wife: “Um… okay…”

Mother: “I’m going to put you on so you can return your dress.”

Wife: “[Mom], I am going to call. I just—”

Mother: “Hold on!”

We exchange a look. Hers is a lot less friendly than mine.

Mother: “[Wife], are you still there?”

Wife: *Slightly annoyed* “Yes.”

Mother: “Okay, here’s [Company].”

Representative: *Slightly confused* “Um, hello.”

Mother: “Yes, [Wife] ordered a dress and you sent the wrong size.”

Wife: “Hello…”

Representative: “Okay, let me get your account information here…”

They go through verification.

Representative: “Okay, so—”

Mother: “You’ll send a new dress for her?”

Representative: “Yes, we can do that. I’ll email the return packing slip—”

Mother: “Give him your email, [Wife].”

Wife: “Um… it’s on the account.”

Representative: “We have [Wife’s email]. Is that correct?”

Mother: “Yes, that’s correct.”

Representative: “[Wife]?”

Wife: “Yes, that is my email.”

Mother: “Okay, so, you’re all set?”

Representative: “We are all set. Is there anything else I—”

Mother: “No, thank you, goodbye.”

Representative: *Pause* “Have a good day, ladies.”

The representative disconnects.

Mother: “See how easy that was?”

Wife: *Tense* “I was going to call. I just—”

Mother: “Well, you don’t want to miss the return period.”

Wife: *Sigh* “No, I didn’t. It’s all done now.”

Mother: “Okay, good. Let me know when the new dress comes in.”

She hung up without saying goodbye.

The return period was sixty days. We had more than enough time to exchange her dress.

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When The Smush Is Too Much

, , , , , , | Right | July 21, 2020

This one is kind of on me a little bit. I work at a popular phone retailer selling the phones and doing tech. A mother and her four-year-old son come into the store, and the mother is considering switching to our network. The son is a terror. He spits on the floor and starts licking the counters. The mom doesn’t do anything about this except impotently telling him to stop. However, she agrees to switch once her husband comes home from work. 

That evening, they show up, but their kid is with them. Fair enough; they can’t just leave him. He’s no better behaved than the previous time. He’s licking things, twisting the door push bar to create that wonderful screeching metal noise, and running around the store. His parents tell him if he behaves, he’ll get a cookie when they get home. So, naturally, they get him one in the middle of all of this. As he’s eating it, a chunk breaks off.

Customer: “Oh, you’re going to have to clean that up! We do not do that!”

The kid grins and smashes the cookie into the floor.

Customer: “You’re going to have to clean that up!”

I am thinking that she’s serious but I’m still half-joking.

Me: “I have a broom in the back I could get him.”

The husband ends up cleaning up the bigger pieces, leaving a ton of tiny pieces for me to clean up. The parents temporarily take the cookie and put him in the corner, but they give it back. I’m keeping my cool. I get it; he’s four and this has to be boring. He goes back to his parents and starts licking a display case.

Me: “All right, we’re transferring over your data. It shouldn’t take terribly long.”

Customer: “Oh, thank you! It’s cool that you can do that!”

The kid then starts picking his nose. The mother tries to stop him, but he doesn’t care. I inwardly grimace but don’t do say anything, trying not to think about the fact that I’m the one who has to clean up anything he does just like I did that afternoon. Finally, the kid picks his nose and wipes it on the display case that he’s been licking. I respond before I can stop myself.

Me: “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!”

Again, it was all on me to clean up anything he did. I apologized to his parents for the little outburst, cleaned up the kid’s mess for the third time that day, and finished everything up. The three of us left on friendly terms.

The next day, I got the survey they left. They gave me a horrible one because I was rude to their kid, who licked display cases, spit on the floor, wiped his snot on a display case, squeaked the door push bar, and smashed a cookie on the ground. And all I said was, “Are you kidding me?” Oy.

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