Who Knew His Waterloo Would Be In A Grocery Store?

(I’m known as the “mom” friend. My friend and I are both short, but he has a Napoleon complex. As we’re shopping, I see the juice we need on the top shelf.)

Me: “I’ll go find someone to get that for me.”

Friend: “Nah, I’ve totally got it!”

(He reaches for it but can just barely touch the shelf; grabbing the juice is out of the question.)

Me: “It’s fine. Seriously, I’ll just find an employee.”

Friend: “Don’t worry! Don’t worry! I can get it.”

(He starts jumping for it.)

Me: “Stop! You’re going to spill that everywhere.”

Friend: “No…” *jumps* “I’m…” *jumps* “Not!”

(Predictably, he manages to snag the handle, tipping it just enough to spill everywhere.)

Me: “Now you’re going to stand here so no one slips while I find an employee to clean up your mess. Then, you’re going to apologize and pay for the goods you’ve damaged.”

Friend: *mutters something about it not being his fault*

(It was a busy store, so he had plenty of time to think. By the time I got back, he was much more apologetic.)