(I work in the after-school program. This child is five and calls his grandfather “Poppy”.)

Boy: “I love when Poppy visits! We have fart contests! Except we can’t play when Mommy’s home.”

Me: “Oh, because your mom doesn’t let you?”

Boy: “No, because she always wins!”

(It’s back-to-school week, and we parents are all listening to a presentation by the teachers about what the school year will be like for our kids. One of the parents asks what the program is like, and the principal replies.)

Principal: “You can go see on our website. We have all the program detailed there in really simple terms, using words even you can understand, as parents: nothing too complicated, no difficult words…”

(She went on and on, explaining how they dumbed down the vocabulary for us. This is a private school; all the parents are high-powered CEOs, bankers, and doctors. I had a good laugh.)

(It is the first day of school.)

Me: “Hey, where is the cafeteria at?”

Other Student: *snottily* “Never end a sentence with a preposition.”

Me: “Okay, then. Where’s the cafeteria at, b****?”

(I work at a school and am bringing a kid out to be picked up, followed by a bunch of other kids who are also waiting for their parents. My school has an office and waiting area right in front, where parents can park to pick up their kids, and in the middle there is a ramp where kids come out from. It’s raining heavily and the pickup area, despite having a roof, is very wet.)

Me: *opening the door to the outside* Oh, [Student]! They are here to pick you up, I think. Who is that lady in the car?”

Student: “My mom.”

(The mom makes a horrible face at me.)

Me: “Great!”

(I open the back door and help [Student] in.)

Mom: *turns around from the front seat and screams* “I almost slipped on your s***ty floor.”

(I’m shocked by her language and turn to look at her eight-year-old. He looks down, obviously scared.)

Mom: “There.” *points to the offices* “I came in and almost slipped. I told the b**** inside that if my kid slips here, I will sue each one of you. I will sue the s*** out of this f****** school and you all will be out of a f****** job. And she ignored me, that b****. And you better hear me. Can you hear me, b***? If my son slips, I will leave you on the street.”

(She keeps screaming. I don’t even know what to answer as I look at [Student] and try, miserably, to buckle him up.)

Me: *interrupting her* “Excuse me, the seat belt seems to be stuck behind the seat. [Student], could you please move to the other side so I can buckle you up? I wouldn’t want you to leave without the seat belt on.”

Mom: *now furious at being interrupted* “Who cares about a d*** seat belt?! Get a life, you b****. I have things to do! Leave him like that and go get a mop to clean! This s***ty school charges too much and only hires b****es. Go work!”

(I hardly have time to close the door before the car speeds away, with [Student] unbuckled. So much for her child’s safety. I have never seen this mom before, but I do know that this is the second time in two years that she has picked up her son. Usually, he stays up to four hours after exit time waiting for her, and she always sends random people to pick him up: boyfriends, aunts, friends, etc. We have to call every time to ask if they are allowed. I tell my boss about this incident. The floor was dry. Apparently, the lady came in with her wet high heels and slipped on the smooth floor.)

Boss: “Don’t worry; she threatens to sue us all the time.”

(And before you ask, the father tried to get custody of the boy. He got it for a while and it was great. But she got it back. Poor [Student].)

(The class is entering their science period.)

Teacher: *bursting through the doors* “EVERYBODY OUT! I’VE BURNT A SOCK IN THE MICROWAVE!”

Entire Class: “What?”

Teacher: *waving us out* “Go, go!”

(A noticeable stench is wafting out of the classroom. The entire class follows the teacher.)

Me: *whispering to my friends* “How did she burn a sock in the microwave?”

(We ended up staying in the garden for the next hour or so. Ever since, that room has always smelled a little bit like burnt burritos.)