Manage For Years To Come

, , , , , | Romantic | December 6, 2017

My husband works in a different town and only comes home on the weekends. He’s been doing that for over ten years now, and I am completely in charge of our seven-year-old son when he’s not around.

Last month he decided he needed a bit of time off, so he took a month of vacation; he’d accrued three months’ worth of days off to use. At the end of the month at home, he said to me, “You know, I’m glad I had this time off. Now I know you can manage our son all by yourself.”

Really? It only took him seven years to figure that out?

Sickening Lack Of Attentiveness

, , | Healthy | November 22, 2017

(I’m staying at the hospital because of an exploded appendix. Unfortunately, the surgery goes wrong and I end up with several complications. One of them includes not being able to hold any liquid, not even the liquid my stomach produces. So despite not eating or drinking anything, I spend several days (around a week) vomiting up green goo until I finally manage to get that under control. A few days later, I’m chatting with a nurse when I suddenly feel the need to barf again! Thankfully, there’s a vomit-bag sitting right next to the nurse.)

Me: *with some urgency* “Can you please give me the vomit bag?”

Nurse: *shocked* “What? I thought you were done with that?”

(At this point I’m afraid that if I talk any more I will just start projectile vomiting so I just stare at her, hoping she’ll get the hint. But the nurse just stares back at me for what seems like an eternity, expecting me to answer the question.)

Me: “Quickly!”

(The nurse finally scrambled to get the bag, but by the time she got it, I’d already started vomiting all over the floor. I sure hope she’ll be more attentive in the future!)

Principal Needs To Get With The Program

, , , , | Learning | October 18, 2017

(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.)

Unfiltered Story #93150

, | Unfiltered | September 10, 2017

I started a new job not long ago in an IT helpdesk. After a few days I had a random customer on the line , as i greeted him by name everyone in the office was laughing. I was like okay how can i help you. He needed help to change his facebook password, ok whatever. So I started a remote session and talked to him. As I was on his desktop I told him to go to facebook and that he should log himself in. He opened firefox and his landing page was an hardcore gay porn page, as professional as I could , i asked him for facebook and changed his password. afterwards he wanted to be sure that his gay porn login still works (haha) surprisingly it still worked.
The aftermath was that it was an old pervert who turns himself on by calling us and wants too talk to the young people and watch porn with them. Funny thing nobody seems too care and they even sendet trainees to his home.
I escalated it with the management (which tolerated this situation for years without a problem) and now he’s force supported by the 55 year old senior , he never called again

Mom Is Bus-ted

, , | Related | July 31, 2017

(We have just arrived in Switzerland after traveling through Germany and Austria on foot for a holiday. My mother is infamously unwilling to believe that maps or locals know what they’re talking about. I have taken charge of getting us to housing for visitors to a local attraction.)

Mom: “Where are we going?”

Me: “Tempelstrasse 9 in Sollikofe.”

Mom: “But I looked up the website and they said Munchenbuchsee was the mailing address. It didn’t say anything about Sollikofe.”

Me: “I have the physical address from the site and the person who made our reservation directed me to Sollikofe. That’s why we took the train to Sollikofe.”

Mom: “LOOK! The bus to Munchenbuchsee. That’s the one we need.”

(She grabs her suitcase and climbs on board while I try to explain that no, we are literally a quarter of a mile from the housing.)

Mom: “I don’t have any francs. How much is the bus?”

Driver: “4 francs 60 per person.”

Mom: “Pay him.”

Me: “But we’re trying to go to—”

Mom: “The site says we have to go to Munchenbuchsee from the train station. PAY HIM and we’ll get directions on which stop to take.”

Me: *to driver* “We need to go to Tempelstrasse 9, Sollikofe.”

Driver: “I don’t know where that is. Take this bus to Munchenbuchsee and they’ll give you the bus number you need to take to Tempelstrasse.”

(I resignedly pay because no one will help me. We sit down and a nice lady leans over.)

Lady: “Where are you trying to go?”

Me: “Tempelstrasse 9, Sollikofe.”

Lady: “Oh, where you can stay for the [Local Attraction]! I know exactly where that is! Why did you get on the bus?”

Me: “Because no one would listen to me.”

Lady: “Get off here and you can take another bus back to the train station and walk for five minutes from there.”

Mom: “You mean you forced me to get on the wrong bus?”

(I turned and glared at her. She shut up immediately. We got off at the next stop and the lady drove us five minutes to the front door of the housing, while Mom kept repeating “Why didn’t you tell me we could have walked there?!”)