(While at work on my register, an old man comes through my line.)

Me: “Do you have your [Store] card?”

Man: “A [Store] card? I don’t have anything. My wife died.”

(My husband and I are expecting our first baby. My husband’s supervisor wants to send him out of state for a week of training right after the baby is due. His supervisor calls me.)

Supervisor: “Well, I know that you’re due to have your baby soon, but I really want [Husband] to go to this week-long training session.”

Me: “Hey, you know that white couch your wife has in the living room?”

Supervisor: “Yes.”

Me: “If you send [Husband] out for that training session, when I go into labor I’m coming over to your house and having this baby on that couch.”

(My husband’s supervisor decided that he could put off the training for a while.)

(My wife is about eight months pregnant. We are out for a day trip, and she feels a sudden need to use the bathroom. Only one shop is open nearby. Unfortunately, there is a large “No Public Restroom” sign on the front door, but we have to try given the lack of options. The shop has a grumpy-looking older shopkeeper.)

Shopkeeper: “What can I do for you?”

Me: “Sorry, I saw the sign, but is there any chance my wife could use your bathroom?”

Shopkeeper: “No! The sign is there for a reason.”

(At this point, my wife, who is very visibly pregnant and waddling accordingly, comes around the corner into view.)

Shopkeeper: “Wait, for her?”

Me: “Yes, she’s—”

Shopkeeper: “My wife says I have to bend the rule for pregnant women and small children. Can’t imagine how much trouble I’ll be in if I say no. Come on back here, ma’am.”

(Thank you to the wife whose consideration and threats outweighed her husband’s rules!)

(I am waiting at a very busy intersection, and traffic is slow, so I am forced to wait until I can go. There is a homeless man along the side of the road, and on the other side there is what looks like a husband and wife fighting. It starts off with just yelling, but quickly escalates to where the man shoves the lady down. She luckily lands on grass, not the concrete that is mere inches from her face. I’m just about ready to call the police when I see the man moving towards her. However, the homeless man crosses the street, weaving his way through the cars, and helps the woman up.)

Husband: “What are you doing, you d*** fool! This isn’t none of your business!”

(The homeless man doesn’t listen and continues to help the woman up.)

Wife: *quietly whispers what looks like thank you*

Homeless Man: *walks over, and gently places his hand the man’s shoulder* “What’s wrong?”

(At this point I expected the husband to tackle him, but instead he suddenly collapsed into the man’s arms, sobbing. As I later learned the man and woman were about to become homeless, and somehow this brave man recognized their distress. To that man, thank you for your kindness! And to the husband and wife, I wish you the best of luck getting back on your feet!)

Related:
Homeless Is Where The Heart Is, Part 3
Homeless Is Where The Heart Is, Part 2
Homeless Is Where The Heart Is

(It’s Mother’s Day, and I’m having a tough one. My husband is in the Army National Guard and has drills that weekend, coming home at six pm. We decide that we’re going to go out to eat so I don’t have to cook or clean up afterwards for our family of six. We end up driving about 45 minutes to a buffet style restaurant, but our eight-year-old son has a panic attack and is so upset that he starts to vomit. We leave and end up getting fast food for the kids with a plan to eat after the kids are in bed. It’s now 11 pm.)

Me: “I don’t know what I want to eat anymore… I was really looking forward to the buffet!”

Husband: “Well, do you want [Local Bar] food?”

Me: “No… Actually, I think I want [Chain Sit-down Restaurant]. They close soon, but they also have an app, so I’ll have the food ready and paid for when you get there!”

(My husband leaves and I place the order. I find a coupon code, but it gives me trouble, so my husband is nearly there when I finish placing the order. My husband calls me a few minutes later.)

Husband: “Hey, did you send the order?”

Me: “Yeah, it should be there now!”

Husband: “Huh. It’s not showing…” *pause* “Oh! It’s in now! Okay, I’ll be home soon.”

Me: “Okay, dear. I love you. Bye!”

(About 20 minutes pass, putting it close to midnight, when the restaurant closes. My husband calls again.)

Husband: “Babe, there’s a problem. The girl just came up to me and said the fryer exploded.”

Me: “So was anything of ours cooked? You got a burger, but literally everything else we got was fried!”

Husband: “Hold on.”

(I hear him ask if anything was fried before the fryer broke and the other person says no.)

Husband: “No, I’m so sorry. Nothing but my burger is cooked.”

Me: “Great. Now it’s officially not Mother’s Day anymore and I don’t even get to have a nice meal! The kids were little butts all day long because they missed you, you were released late, [Son] had an anxiety attack which I know he didn’t want to but it still happened, and now there’s no food!”

(I start crying uncontrollably. I’m still on the phone, so my husband is trying to reassure me. I then hear him pause and talk to someone else.)

Husband: “Okay, so the first guy was mistaken. The only thing that wasn’t made was one of the appetizers.”

Me: *instantly cheering up* “Awesome! So can you have the online bill adjusted?”

Husband: “Not a problem! Oh… no, I can’t. The girl here says she canceled the whole thing because of the inconvenience. She could hear you crying through the phone and felt really badly.” *pauses* “She says she has some roses left. Do you want one?”

Me: “Yeah…”

Husband: “Okay, I’ll bring you home one. Oh, the food is ready, so I’ll be home soon!”

(It was a delicious meal, even if it was nearly one am when my husband returned. I dried my rose, so I still have it.)