I’ve been helping a woman shop for gifts for her daughter. She finds them cheaper on our website, but I’m unable to price-match due to stupid corporate rules. The woman buys three items and orders the other three online. After I ring her up for her three, she looks at me expectantly.

Customer: “So, now that I’ve bought these online, do I just pick them up now or…?” 

Me: “Well, you ordered them online so they’ll be shipped to the store in a few days.” 

Customer: “WHAT?! BUT I NEED THEM TODAY!” 

I’m staring in disbelief, not sure what she thought was going to happen. 

Me: “I apologize for the confusion, but you did order them online to get the sale price, so you’ll have to wait for them to come in, or you can buy them full price now and we can refund the difference when your order arrives.” 

Customer: “No, no, that won’t work for me. You will return and refund all of this right this instant.” 

I manage to keep my cool, despite her comments that we’re a scam and don’t know what good customer service means. I refund the three items she bought and she leaves, knocking over a display as she goes. 

Next Customer: “Jesus Christ, what a moron!”

I am watching “Midsommar” when my sister texts me asking me what I’m doing. I tell her I’m watching a movie and I’ll text her later.

Sister: “So, was that movie any good?”

My sister loves horror movies while I mostly find them boring. I enjoyed the movie enough so I think she would like it.

Me: “Yeah, I liked it. It’s free on [Streaming App], so you should watch it when you get a chance.”

Sister: “What’s it about?”

I decide to have some fun with her.

Me: “It’s about a woman who goes on a trip to Sweden with her friends and discovers herself in the process.”

Sister: “That sounds kinda boring, but if you said it’s good I’ll maybe try it.”

Later on in the week, I get another text from my sister.

Sister: “B****, you lied to me! You made it seem like it would be some feel-good movie. It was literally a horror movie!”

Me: “It’s from the same guy who did Hereditary; that should have been your first clue!”

Sister: “What’s Hereditary? I’ve never heard of it before.”

Me: “Oh, it’s a drama about a grieving family suffering from tragedy after the death of their grandmother. It’s really good; you should watch it!”

Sister: “Oh, f*** you.”

I recently had my septum pierced, which made my mom incredibly upset to the point she bribed me with a puppy to have it taken out. Ironically, it was pierced wrong, and no matter what, I was going to have to take it out. At least I was getting a puppy out of it! I insisted, though, that I wanted to adopt.

I am browsing for dogs online when my dad approaches.

Dad: “Make sure you get a pure breed.”

Me: “Why does that matter? And also, it’s going to be incredibly hard to find a pure breed that’s up for adoption and not just for sale.”

Dad: “Our last dog was a pure breed, and she was a good dog.”

Me: “But that has nothing to do with it! She was a good dog because we raised her well and she was just incredibly gentle and patient. You’re crazy. We’ll get whatever dog we get.”

Later on, though, my mom also hits me with this caveat.

Mom: “Don’t get a pit bull, a rottweiler, or any other type of bully breed. They’re dangerous and I don’t want an accident.”

Me: “Okay, but a dog’s temperament is usually based on how they’re trained. The aggressive nature thing is usually just a bad myth and leads to those dogs not getting adopted as much.”

Mom: “My house, my rules. No bully breeds.”

Finally, though, I settle on my dream dog up for adoption. She is a German shepherd labrador mix, so my dad lost out on his pure breed nonsense. Later on, we discover that that mix of dogs is considered one of the best you can get because of how loyal and loving they are. And during the first week we have her, my mom takes her to the vet just to make sure she doesn’t have any issues we need to be concerned with. The vet tells my mom that the dog might have a bit of rottweiler in her based on her appearance. 

Mom: “That’s okay. We love her anyway!”

She brought so much love and joy into our lives, and I still love how she basically was something that my parents were totally against but ended up loving in the end.

My parents hate tattoos, so after I got my second, I sort of stopped telling them I was getting more and just wore long sleeves. However, one day at work, my mom stops by unexpectedly and sees the other four tattoos she did not know about and, of course, she tells my dad. When I get home, he wants to see them.

One thing to say, though, is that all of my tattoos are tasteful and really well done. One, in particular, is a design of a woman sitting in a crescent moon. I frequently have people stop and tell me how beautiful the piece is.

My father, however, doesn’t really look at the design or anything. No, he immediately zooms in on one detail and eloquently says:

Dad: “I can see a booby.”

While I don’t make a lot of money working retail while also being a full-time college student, I try to donate money whenever I can. One year during Christmas time, I print up a wishlist from my local humane society full of supplies they need, as I work in a big box store and can use my employee discount to get things cheaper.

I buy around $250 worth of supplies requested with plans to drop it off at the shelter later in the week. I ask my dad for assistance as some of the dog food and kitty litter is heavy. The shelter is thankful and gives me a sheet to fill out so I can submit the purchases on my tax returns. We are driving home when my dad springs this on me.

Dad: “You should let me fill that out so I get the credit.”

Me: “Why would I do that? I’m the one that bought that stuff with my money.”

Dad: “The only reason you had that money to spend was that you live at home rent-free. So I should be reimbursed for that.”

Me: “I’m your child, not a tenant, so excuse me for living in the house that I grew up in. Even if I gave you rent money, would you have used it for charity?”

Dad: “No, I would use it for things I need or save for something.”

Me: “Exactly, you wouldn’t have used that money for charity and would’ve kept it for yourself. Ergo, I should get the tax credit because I’m the one with the initiative to try and do some good. I’m filling out the paperwork in my name.”

Dad: “We’ll see what your mother has to say when we get home.”

She agreed with me, stating that my dad never donates to charity and thus didn’t deserve it and was being a real grinch.