My truck has started making a weird noise. Since my dad used to be a mechanic, I ask him about it, but he can’t hear it and insists that I’m imagining it. A few weeks later, the noise is worse, and the truck has started acting weird when I use the brakes. If I just barely touch the brake pedal, the truck reacts as if I’ve slammed on the brakes, and the brakes also let go at unexpected times.

When I try to tell my dad about it, he actually makes fun of me. He says there’s absolutely nothing wrong with my truck and kind of bullies me for not wanting to drive it. I tell him that if he’s that sure, he can drive it. He seems to think it’s hilarious, but he does agree and we swap keys.

The next morning while I am at work, I get a text from dad.

“Don’t drive your truck anywhere.”

It isn’t until I get home that I finally get an explanation. He tried to drive my truck as we agreed. He got halfway out of the driveway, only to realize that he’d left one of the brakes behind!

It had rusted completely in half, but since he’d only been pretending to look at them he didn’t think there could be any problem… until one of them fell off completely.

Dad wonders why I don’t trust him anymore.

(I work as a lifeguard at a small-town pool, so we don’t get many people we don’t know, but every once and a while we get out-of-towners. They are usually rude and disregard all of the rules. It is required to take a swimming test to enter the deep end at our pool; if you don’t pass you don’t enter. A lady and her two sons come to the pool.)

Lady: *to [Coworker #1] on duty* “Can [Oldest Son] take the deep end test?”

Coworker #1: “Yes, you have to [do required things] well, and I will pass you.”

Oldest Son: “Okay.”

(The oldest son then does the test and passes.)

Lady: “Now can [Younger Son] take the test?”

Coworker #1: “Yes; he has to do the same things.”

Lady: “That seems like a lot for someone so little to do.”

Coworker #1: “Everyone has to do it to enter the deep end, ma’am.”

Lady: “It just seems like too much! Have him do less.”

Coworker #1: “I can’t. He has to pass these requirements.”

Lady: “Okay.”

(The youngest does it but is obviously struggling, out of breath, and needing to take a break. His mom swims next to him, practically holding him. It takes him so long to finish that the lifeguards have to rotate, so [Coworker #1] leaves and [Coworker #2] takes her place/ [Coworker #1] tells her that the kid is struggling and shouldn’t be passed. The kid finally gets done.)

Coworker #2: “I’m sorry, but he didn’t pass. He is obviously a struggling swimmer and I can’t let him in the deep end.”

Lady: “What?! He did your stupid little test; he should be able to go in there. He is not a struggling swimmer!”

Coworker #2: “Ma’am, he did not pass because he isn’t a strong enough swimmer and we don’t want him to have a chance of drowning.”

Lady: “This is ridiculous. All he wants to do is go off the diving boards; just let him do that!”

Coworker #2: “Ma’am, we cannot let your son into the deep end, for his own safety.”

(She continued to yell at me and my coworkers until she finally decided to loudly announce that we were terrible lifeguards and she was never coming back to this pool ever again. My coworker and I didn’t care if this lady ever came back, but much to our despair, she came back an hour later and broke our deep end rules, and ignored us, all while insisting that she was with her son and it didn’t matter what some stupid teenagers said; she knew what was best for her son.)

I’m the IT guy of a primary school. The school is located in a wealthy area which means that the school also is fairly rich.

We purchase some 80-inch touchscreen TVs, and they have been demonstrated to the parents to show how teachers are going to use them.

Skip a few weeks. It’s a vacation and there’s no one in the school except me and some people hired to clean the floors. While I’m sitting in my office I notice a group of elderly men carrying cases of beer into the building. I go up to them and ask what they are planning.

One of the men looks at me with a smug smile on his face and tells me that he and his friends are going to use one of the TVs to view an important football match, and that it’s okay because he’s the chairman of the parent council. I’m not impressed, but I call the principal anyway.

The principal is more furious about people bringing beer into the school than that they want to use the TVs to watch a game. I get the order: “Kick them out. Call the police if that is what it takes.”

So, that’s what I do. I tell them that their party is cancelled and that they have to leave or I’ll have to call the police. Of course, I get the, “Do you know who I am?” and, “I’ll have you fired,” spiel.

I tell them, “No, I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care, so get out or I’ll call the police.” The men show some wisdom and leave the school.

It turned out that they emailed a letter of complaint to the principal demanding that I be fired and threatening to stop their donations to the school. The principal replied that I’m not going to be fired and that bringing beer into the school just wasn’t acceptable, not even if you’re the chairman of the parent council

He “accidentally” sent his answer to all members of the parent council. The chairman resigned and donations to the school increased. Turned out that a lot of parents really hated the now ex-chairman for being a condescending t***.

(My mom has a lot of skills, but unfortunately, using technology is not among them. We get her a basic Chromebook so she can check her email and do simple web searches, because that’s all she needs a computer for. Every time I visit her, I remind her that she should turn the computer off and on again every now and then, but she always forgets because she thinks just shutting the laptop turns it off. She calls me one evening as I’m driving home from work, and she sounds really worried.)

Mom: “Hi, [My Name]. It’s not an emergency, but…” *sigh* “My computer is all black! I don’t know what to do! I can’t check my Internet!”

(This is what she calls her email.)

Me: *feeling like every tech support person ever* “Okay, Mom, it will be fine. Let’s try turning it off and on again.”

Mom: “Okay, how?”

Me: “Uh, can you look at the keyboard—“

Mom: “Wait, wait, wait! Let me go over there to the computer.” *an eon passes* “Okay…”

Me: “And look for the button—“

Mom: “Wait, wait! I still have to open up the lid!”

Me: “Okay, Mom, now we’re just going to press the power button and hold it down for a few seconds.”

Mom: “What’s the power button?”

(I have an internal facepalm, knowing that if it were anyone else but my mom this would have to be a joke. Somehow I manage to keep my composure enough to answer.)

Me: “It’s that one with a circle that has a line in the top.”

Mom: “Okay, I’m really not sure about this, but I guess… I’ll try… Okay. I pressed it and nothing happened.”

Me: “Don’t worry. Can you tell me which LEDs are on at the front of the computer?”

Mom: “I don’t know about that, but I do have a little blue light…”

Me: “Yep, that’s an LED. Was that on before you pressed the button?”

Mom: “Oh, well, I don’t know; I didn’t look for it before.”

Me: *trying not to explode* “Okay, let’s just try pressing the power button again.”

Mom: “The circle with the line? Is that right?”

Me: “Yep…”

Mom: “Wow! Oh, my goodness! It’s doing something! What’s this? What do I do?”

(Suddenly, my dad walks into the room and joins the conversation. He barely knows more about computers than my mom, but he’s more dangerous because he imagines that he does.)

Dad: “Honey, it says to put in your password.”

Mom: “What’s my password?”

Dad: “Oh, no…”

Me: “Don’t worry, guys. I knew Mom would forget, so I made it something I would remember; it’s [password].”

(We go through three attempts of me spelling it out letter by letter, with my mom getting confused or making a typo halfway through, until finally…)

Mom: “It’s working! Wait… Oh, no! Now it says something bad! Important system updates required.”

Dad: “Oh, you should just skip that; you don’t want that. Just press ‘no.’”

Me: *narrowly avoiding screaming* “Wait! Press ‘yes’! You definitely want to press ‘yes’! That’s probably why your computer shut down in the first place!”

(Mom presses “yes,” and we chat for a long time while the computer downloads and installs many months of backed-up updates. Finally, her screen pops up like usual.)

Mom: “Amazing! My Internet is back!”

Me: *slight enough sarcasm that she doesn’t notice* “Good job, Mom. You did it.”

Mom: “Thanks, [My Name]!”

Me: “Now you’ll remember to restart your computer sometimes because you saw how important it is!”

Mom: “Oh, you’ll have to remind me. I’ll never remember; it’s too confusing.”

(I love my mom, but at times like this, I wonder about how she has managed to get through nearly 70 years of life so far. I promise this conversation was not exaggerated; these were literally the comments she made! Guess what I’ll be doing the next time I visit?)

(My mother, my younger brother, and I are staying with my aunt and uncle while on holiday in the UK. The three of us are preparing to make an outing for the afternoon, while my aunt and uncle are going out somewhere else. Mum is disorganised at the best of times, so she is rushing about trying to get ready while also chivvying along my fifteen-year-old brother. I get ready straight away, so I sit down to read while I am waiting. My aunt and uncle are leaving.)

Aunt & Uncle: “We’re off now. See you later.”

Me: “Okay, bye.”

Mum: “What are you doing reading? Get ready.”

Me: “I am ready. I’m just waiting for you two.”

Mum: “That’s not helping. Put down the book and help me get ready.”

Me: “Okay. What should I do?”

Mum: “I don’t know. Just help.”

(I have no idea what she wants me to do, but I try to help expedite the process, anyway. Everything I try to do isn’t what Mum wants, but she won’t tell me what she actually wants, just that I have to “help.” Eventually, I give up. I am forbidden to read, as it is “not helpful,” so I end up just loitering by the front door. Eventually, it opens, and my aunt and uncle walk in.)

Uncle: “Oh, hello. Are you back already?”

Me: “No. We haven’t left yet.”