Pepper A Little Sarcasm Into Your Meal

, , , , , | Romantic | May 6, 2020

My father can be a bit aloof and is not always the best at anticipating other people’s wants or needs, and this story is one of many small examples. My siblings and I are pretty used to it, but it drives my wife bonkers even if she doesn’t always show it.

We’re at my parents for the holidays with my siblings and some extended family and have gathered for a meal.

Mother: “[Father], can you pass the pepper?”

Father: “Oh, I don’t like pepper on [dish], so I didn’t bring it out.”

My wife rolls her eyes and mutters sarcastically under her breath.

Wife: “No problem; there are only eight other people at this table who might want pepper.”

My mother goes and gets the pepper from the kitchen and the meal goes on.

Father: “[Wife], would you pass the [side dish]?”

Wife: *Deadpan* “Well, I don’t like [side dish], so I don’t think I will.” 

The rest of the table burst out laughing, and [Wife] got a high-five from my mother. My father had the decency to look a little sheepish. And don’t worry, my wife and father actually get along great, and it’s fun to see her call him out once in a while.

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Milking Your Birthday For All It’s Worth

, , , , , , | Related | May 5, 2020

My birthday falls during a global health crisis. Grocery stores are limiting the number of customers coming in at one time, certain items are selling out quickly, and everyone is encouraged to stay home unless you absolutely need to go out.

I am a young adult living on my own, and my mother likes to help me out any way she can. During this time, she cooks dinners for her and my father, and a couple of times a week she will either drop off a dinner to me on her way home from work or have me drive by and pick it up off the front step — social distance dinners.

We have a phone call on my birthday. Mom and Dad sing the birthday song.

Me: “Thanks!”

Mom: “I’m sad we can’t celebrate your birthday in person!”

Me: “Yeah, I know. Me, too, but it’s okay.”

Mom: “I know it’s okay, but I still want to spend time with you. I birthed you!”

Dad: “Have you gone to the grocery store a lot?”

Me: “No. I have a lot of canned, boxed, and frozen food. I go to the convenience store for milk or cheese.”

Mom: “Well, we’re going to [Club Warehouse] tomorrow, so we could pick stuff up for you, if you want. Milk is way cheaper there.”

Me: “Sure, but I wouldn’t be able to drink a whole gallon before it went bad.”

Mom: “How about this: you can come over and pick up your birthday dinner, and Dad and I will drink some of the milk beforehand.”

Me: *Laughs* “Okay, sure. I know you guys like skim, but is it okay if you get 1%?”

Dad: “Wow, that’s a big ask.”

Mom: “Oh, I don’t know…”

Me: “It’s okay, I was just wondering. I like skim, too.”

Mom: “Oh, my gosh. Of course, we’ll get 1%.”

Dad: “Yeah, ‘Happy birthday; here’s a half-drunk gallon of milk you don’t want.’”

Mom: “And I got you another birthday present, so don’t worry; it’s not just milk.”

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This Parent Is Way Out Of Line

, , , , , , | Right | May 5, 2020

I regularly stop by a specific drugstore after I get off work around 10:00 pm. I stop to get milk because it’s really cheap, and I always just want to get in and out because I’m tired.

Tonight, there is seemingly no one in the store until I go to the register, where there are five people in line. It’s a store that doesn’t really have a designated line area; you just kind of step up to the counter, so lines can form awkwardly around displays.

I wait and have to step back for a father and daughter in front of me to pick out candy for the rest of the family; no big deal. As soon as they check out, I step up to the counter and put the gallon of milk on it. Suddenly, a woman with wild, ratty hair comes bursting in the store and shoves into me.

Me: “Excuse me!”

Wild Lady: “I was here first! You cut me!”

Me: “Um…”

The cashier, a really sweet teenage girl, steps up and speaks to the wild lady.

Cashier: “No, ma’am, I’m sorry. She was here first. You just walked in.”

Wild Lady: “Shut it. You cut. Anyway, I need less stuff than you, so I get to go first!”

The cashier is ringing me out the entire time, scanning my store card, telling me to swipe my debit. We are both trying to ignore her. My transaction usually only takes a minute anyway.

Me: “Ma’am, I’m almost finished. The receipt is printing. And, anyway, it’s not possible to actually buy something and have less stuff than me. I have one thing.”

Wild Lady: “I left my car running! I should go first!”

The cashier and I exchange wide-eyed looks and just ignore her.

Wild Lady: “Well, I left my kid in the car so you need to let me go!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m done now anyway, but this is a low-income, urban area, and it’s 10:00 at night. I would definitely never leave my car running, and I would never even consider leaving my kid in it. I have half a mind to call CPS now.”

Wild Lady: “Whatever!”

The wild lady turns to the cashier.

Wild Lady: “I need seven cartons of [Cigarettes], girl. Be quick!”

I left, wild-eyed. I checked, and there really was a three-year-old in the car with no one else, and it was running and unlocked.

Not three minutes later, as I was going through an intersection, she blazed through the red light and almost T-boned me. To come from that direction, she also had to turn left illegally at another intersection.

I followed her home and called the cops. I hope that poor child is okay.

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There Are Anti-Vaxx Moms, And Then There’s This…

, , , , , , | Right | May 4, 2020

I work in a childcare facility offered free to gym members. We have three rooms: one for babies, one for toddlers, and one for school-age kids. The baby room closes at noon so that we can stay within ratio. A mother comes in wanting to register her six-week-old child.

Mom: “So, she’ll be in the baby room, right?”

Me: “Actually, not at this time. We close the baby room at noon, as we have two staffers clocking out and we have to stay in ratio. She will be completely safe, though. A staffer will be with her at all times to make sure she doesn’t get hurt.” 

Mom: “But she can’t be around these older kids! She’s not vaccinated!”

Me: *Pause* “Then why did you bring her to a daycare?”

Mom: “She’s supposed to be in the baby room!”

Me: “Ma’am, we can’t take her by herself into the baby room; it’s against the rules to have one staff member alone with a child.”

Mom: “Then put two in there! Just open it! I don’t want her getting sick!”

Me: “If we put two staff members in with her that will leave two staff members in the toddler room with over fifty kids. That’s double our required ratio and we can’t do that—”

Mom: “You can and you will! This is unfair to my child!”

Even though the mother has interrupted me I am still talking.

Me: “—and besides, we can’t accept an unvaccinated child. That is in our policies. And if you’re worried about her getting sick from the kids, you shouldn’t want her around adults, or anyone, really.”

Mom: “I’m going to work out! Just take her and do whatever you want!”

She holds the baby out to me.

Me: “No. We cannot take her.”

Mom: “Fine!”

She storms out.

Another Parent: “Why… why would she…?”

Me: *Shrugs* “I’m clocking out.”

I leave, and as I am walking out, I encounter the mom again, this time yelling at the manager on duty about my refusing to take her child. The manager is not the childcare manager and has no idea of our policies, so he grabs me and asks what he should tell her.

Me: “Show her the policies about vaccinations. Have fun! She loves her child enough to put her in danger; I don’t think she cares about what happens to you.”

The mom didn’t hear that, but a coworker and I laughed our way out of work.

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Further Evidence That Moms Shouldn’t Be Involved In Your Wedding Night

, , , , , , , | Related | May 2, 2020

My mother and I have always had a troubled relationship, but after my mother had a period of ill health, on the run up to our wedding, my now-husband and I — also male — tried to patch things up.

My mother doesn’t know what it is to be poor; her parents had a decent amount of money — not rich, but definitely comfortable — and while she’s a complete penny pincher I never had the impression as a child that she was struggling or tightening her belt.

My husband and I, however, were poor. Dirt poor. We barely scraped by on benefits for several years due to my being disabled and my husband being my carer. So, our wedding was as cheap and DIY as we could make it while still feeling like an “occasion.”

My mother offered to buy flowers — actually, insisted, despite us not wanting them due to my husband’s hay fever — but much more appreciated was her offer to pay for a hotel room for the wedding night. Our best couple of friends were taking us for a single-day honeymoon, so that was nice! We still had to get home to drop off our wedding stuff and pick up our stuff for the next day before going to the hotel, but as we lived in a shared house, it helped the whole thing feel like one event.

My mother asked us which hotel we wanted; there was one literally two minutes walk from us, and one in the town centre, which involved our best friends picking us up and taking us there as we didn’t drive. We knew nothing about either and were going frantic with getting everything done, so I asked her to look into them and give us some information. She came back and said she went for the one in the town centre “because it was ten pounds cheaper.”

As it turned out, the one near us was much quieter, had a four-star rating, and had breakfast included. It would have allowed us to drop back home that much easier. Instead, we had to pay out of pocket for breakfast, listen to loud drunks passing through the town or drinking at bars, and had a far smaller room, and of course, we couldn’t get home easily.

It feels petty to complain about it; she still paid for the room for us. But I’m still a little bitter that she just looked at the price tag and, despite being very comfortable, financially, and never helping us out in that regard, took the worse option for ten freakin’ pounds less, leaving us to spend money we hadn’t accounted for in order to have breakfast in the morning.

By the way, we’re doing much better now. I’m self-employed and my husband and I have a great relationship. And as this story is really the tiny tip of the iceberg, I’m no longer in contact with my mother.

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