My father-in-law was staying with us because his house burned down, and the rest of my husband’s family ghosted him (for reasons that will soon become clear). It was a tense five months, especially for my kids.

We’re raising our kids to have minds of their own, and while they should try to always be courteous, they don’t have to show respect to anyone who doesn’t respect them. My father-in-law doesn’t appreciate this school of parenting and comes from the Era of “children are seen and not heard.”

Well, one day he was talking to my youngest, who had just turned six, and she enjoys conversation, asking questions, and contributing to the dialogue. My father-in-law thinks kids should just sit there quietly while he talks at them. So, he told her a little information, and she responded:

Daughter: “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

Father-In-Law: *Snapped at her with a lot of irritation.* “Yeah, well, there are a lot of things you don’t f****** know.”

This was his way of telling her to STFU. I was about to jump in, but in a heartbeat, she fired back:

Daughter: “Yeah, well, I know your house burned down!”

I had to leave before I laughed in his face. And it may have been rude, but she had been enduring months of him talking down to her and treating her as if she was stupid because she’s a child. He had it coming.

A common prayer to say before eating a meal starts, “Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts…” Recently, my daughter mentioned it.

Daughter: “When I was younger, I thought it went ‘Bless us, O Lord, and these, I guess.”

I worked in an electronics store to put myself through college. I worked in the computer department but was sitting at the loss prevention desk up front to cover while the loss prevention supervisor took a quick lunch break.

An old lady comes in:

Customer: “Where’s the dairy section? I need help finding the milk!”

Me: *Kindly.* “Ma’am, you’re not in a grocery store. This is an electronics store.”

She looks confused and leaves. A couple of minutes later, her (presumably) son walks in and starts chewing my a**.

Customer’s Son: “What the h*** is wrong with you?! Why wouldn’t you help an old lady find some milk?!”

I slowly waved my arm across the store and asked him:

Me: “Which one of these aisles looks like they might have milk in them?”

He stares for a good few seconds, and then glares back at me:

Customer’s Son: “You’re an a**hole!”

Me: “Yeah, I’m used to hearing that after I’ve won an argument.”

Customer’s Son: “Just because you don’t sell milk doesn’t mean you get to be rude to an old lady! Get your boss out here now!”

I paged the loss prevention supervisor up to the front.

LP Supervisor: “So, you sent your mom, who seems to be easily confused, into an electronics store on her own, because she was looking for milk?”

Customer’s Son: “No, that’s not how it went down!”

LP Supervisor: “Well, that’s how it looks from my perspective. Sir, if your mother is still waiting for you outside, I suggest you go back out and help her with her groceries better than you’ve been doing up until now.”

Customer’s Son: “You’re an a**hole!”

LP Supervisor: “And you’re never allowed back in this store. Have a good day.”

My son is eleven, as is his best friend. We’re at a neighborhood block party, and I overhear them having a conversation over ice cream:

Son: “Can I ask you a question?”

Friend: “You just did.”

Son: “Can I ask you another one?”

Friend: “You just did that, too.”

Son: “Well, can I ask you two more?”

Friend: “No.”

Son: “Why not?”

Friend: “I just told you that you couldn’t ask two more, and that was the second one! Don’t you listen?”

Son: “What?”

Friend: “And there’s question number three! What’s wrong with you? No means NO!”

Son: “Never mind.”

Friend: “See? You should have started with that and saved us both a lot of time.”

I love that my weirdo son found his weirdo bestie.

My son got his learner’s permit last year, and I was thus obligated to ride along with him and try to teach him how to be a good driver. For the most part, he learned quickly, but my biggest complaint was how he drove in our own neighborhood. Despite my constant warnings that kids played in our streets all the time and were regularly running between cars with little warning, [Son] seemed to think I was being paranoid.

He never went quite as slow as I’d like on the roads, though he was still going slower than some reckless drivers in our development. More worrying, though, was his complete lack of situation awareness. He didn’t pay enough attention to the road ahead or scan for potential risks.

We were coming back home from a practice drive when I noticed a car parked on the side of the road had its blinkers on.

Me: “The car ahead has its blinkers on.”

I don’t know how he does it, but I could hear the eye roll in his response.

Son: “It’s not even movin—”

Me: “—STOP!”

Son: “Wah?”

[Son] wasted a precious fraction of a second trying to figure out why I was shouting at him and composing his witty verbal response. During that time, the door of the car with its blinkers on started to open right in front of us.

I grabbed the steering wheel from my spot in the passenger seat and twisted it to turn us into the other lane, since I had been watching the road and potential hazards. I knew there was no car coming in that lane, so it was safe to swerve into it.

Me: “Brake!”

[Son] belatedly listened and slammed the brakes. We ended up sitting diagonally across both lanes. Had the door of the car in front of us opened fully, we would still have run into it and ripped it off its hinges. Luckily, the door stopped only a fraction of the way open, which meant that the turn into the other lane was enough to avoid hitting it.

I’d shouted a stop because I’d seen someone opening the door, but hadn’t had enough time to process who it was opening it. Now that we were stopped, I could look into the car proper, to see a young child sitting in the driver’s side seat of the car. A young woman was in the passenger side seat and had stretched over the seat and across the lap of the young child to yank the door shut as best as she could.

Eventually, she managed to get herself and the child out of the car. The child was crying and upset, but she still came over to check to make sure we were okay and apologize. Once the child had calmed down, I got a little more detail as to what had happened.

The child had wanted to play in his aunt’s new car, and so she had allowed him to do so only after repeatedly warning him that he wasn’t allowed to open the driver’s side doors without first getting permission from her. The child disregarded this rule, and his aunt had to grab the door to keep him from jumping out and getting struck by us.

Luckily, she had been paying enough attention to realize what was happening in time to grab the door. She apologized profusely to us and thanked us for not striking her car or the child.

As frightening as the situation was at the time, I have to say it worked wonders on [Son]. From that moment onward, he started driving much more slowly on neighborhood roads and was always watching for children.

Meanwhile, I spoke to the dad of the child who had been playing in his aunt’s car, and his dad says he has been far better about obeying their road safety rules since the incident. It seems the near disaster scared both boys enough to convince them they may want to listen when their elders warn them of something.