Can’t Stop Pooping Out Excuses

, , , , | Related | December 5, 2017

(My seven-year-old son has a school event today that parents are invited to come see.)

Son: “So, can you come?”

Me: “I’m sorry, hon. I can’t. I have to go to work, same as every day.”

Son: “Call your boss and tell him you’re sick! Tell him you can’t stop pooping!”

Me: *with horrified laughter* “No, no, I don’t think I should tell him that! Now, go get ready for school!”

The Power Of A Name

, , , , , | Working | December 2, 2017

(I stop by the food court at my local mall to get lunch and choose a burger place. Everything is totally normal. I get my drink and wait for my food. They call my name, I get my bag, and it’s only after I sit down to eat that I realize something is wrong; I got my fries, but instead of a burger, there is a container of chicken nuggets. I glance at the receipt I got with the bag to confirm that it does indeed say I was charged for a burger combo, and then go back up. I’m nearly 40 years old, and none of the employees can be much over 20, mostly teenagers.)

Me: *walking up to the counter* “I’m sorry; I don’t think this is my food—”

(The employee doesn’t acknowledge me, but starts talking through the window to the guy in the kitchen. That’s fine; they’re busy, it’s loud, she may not have heard me before she started talking, and it sounds like they’re talking about orders, not just chatting. I wait for her to finish.)

Me: “Hi, sorry; this isn’t my or—”

(The employee practically shoves a new bag into my hands, fixes me with a disapproving stare, and says in her most weary, chiding voice…)

Employee: “Yes, because YOU took the order meant for [My Name].”

Me: “Yeah, because I’m [My Name]!”

Employee: *eyes get huge* “Oh! We… we must have mixed up the bags.”

Me: “Uh-huuuuh! How about that?!”

(I really wasn’t annoyed until she addressed me like a misbehaving toddler!)

Try Not To Embrace It Too Much

, , , , , , | Related | December 1, 2017

(My sister has recently had a baby, and I’ve gone over to see her newborn. She uses this as a chance to take a much-needed bath and get food while I rock the baby to sleep. She comes back in the room thirty minutes later to find that the baby is asleep in the crib, and I have picked up their dachshund to rock and sing to. She gives me a strange look.)

Me: “I’m still in cuddle mode.”

Sister: “As long as you don’t try it on me, we’re good.”

They Act Like They’re Baked

, , , , , , , | Working | November 30, 2017

(My BFF and I run a small bakery. We are very sarcastic with each other and our employees:)

BFF: *texting* “Not coming in today.”

Me: “Really? You are only four hours late. I didn’t even miss you.”

BFF: “Slow?”

Me: “Turtle, slug, slime creeping; what is slower?”

BFF: “What are you doing?”

Me: “Watching Deadwood, cleaning the office, surfing porn (not really).”

BFF: “Go home. Girls can handle the front.”

Me: “No! Then I would have to watch TMNT, clean the kitchen, and surf Pinterest. Work is way better!”

A Place Where Your Pet Can Stretch Its Leg

, , , , , , | Working | November 29, 2017

(My mother and I are dropping off our cat at a boarding place, and we are asked to fill out a sheet describing her physical well-being, noting things such as her allergies. We are almost finished.)

Me: “Don’t forget the leg.”

(My cat had her back leg amputated at a young age.)

Mom: “Of course.”

(She writes it down on the sheet. Just then, my small cat squeezes out of her carrier and starts limping across the tile floor. We catch her, place her back in her carrier, and hand the sheet to the woman behind the counter. She scans the sheet.)

Woman: “Oh, [Cat] has three legs?”

Mom: “Yes.”

Woman: “You know, I thought she had an odd gait. That would explain it.”

Mom: “…”

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