We Are Not A Daycare Service!
“So this was around Christmas 2017. I was working at a toy shop in a VERY wealthy neighborhood. As you can imagine, entitled people were everywhere. Now, I was pretty prepared for entitled people. I usually had to deal with the usual ‘What do you mean you’re out of this gift wrap?’ or ‘You don’t have it in the back? I drove __ minutes to get here!’
Christmas Eve comes, and as you can imagine, being in a toy shop in Christmas Eve was hectic. It was my last shift before my seasonal placement ended, so I was getting a lot of farewells and hugs from my coworkers. I was kept pretty busy at my register and was in a fantastic, Christmas-y mood until I met Karen. We’re gonna call her Karen because, well…. she was a Karen. She was white, with a short haircut (brown hair, not blonde) with two kids and a huge, lazy husband.
Karen comes in with her two awful kids and her husband. She’s shopping, not watching her kids and her husband is doing God knows what somewhere else. Neither of them even look at their kids. The older one is a boy of maybe about 8 or 9 and the youngest is a girl that looked about 4 or 5.
I notice they start playing with one of the display kid-friendly dartboards. The dartboards in question are Velcro and the darts don’t have a needle point, so it’s really safe and has basically the same effect.
Karen glances back at her kids for a brief split-second and just as she does, her son throws a dart at the board which almost nicks his sister in the face on its way.
Karen totally lost it. She gasped dramatically and started yelling at her son. I figured it’s their problem, not mine. But I was wrong.
Karen comes stomping over to my register and says, ‘My son almost threw a dart at his sister’s eye!’ Like that’s my fault or something. I politely mention how it’s a kid-friendly dartboard and that it’s very unlikely there would be any harm done. But, that didn’t satisfy her. She glared at me with a look I can only describe as ‘pure murder’ and says in a very slow voice. ‘You’re telling me that if I threw a dart at your eye, it wouldn’t hurt?’
Was this hag threatening me?
Y’know I almost lost it on her, and I wish I had, because it was my last shift after all. In fact, I only had about an hour left at this point. What were they gonna do? Fire me?
Then she suddenly switches from the look of death to a polite expression and says, ‘Can you watch my kids for me while I shop?’ I was a bit taken aback by that because…. well…. no. No, I can’t watch your kids for you. That’s not my job for one. And also, your husband is off somewhere, get him to do it.
I politely told her ‘no’ and apologized. Then she tries the whole ‘but they’re really good kids!’ thing. Like look, I just watched him nearly miss his sister’s face with a Velcro dart. Clearly, he’s not paying attention to his surroundings, and that worries me.
I declined again, saying ‘We can’t do that, we have customers to take and we’re very busy.’ Then she got the look of death again. I basically knew what she was about to say so I just went, ‘Do you wanna talk to my manager?’ To which she replied, ‘yes, please.’
Well, at least she said please.
Now at the time I thought, ‘Good luck, she’s worse than I am. I’m being nice to you’ I brought her the manager, who was indeed not very friendly and she chewed out this customer right in the middle of the sale. I didn’t hear the full conversation, but I did make out my manager saying, ‘We aren’t a daycare service. Watching your kids is you and your husband’s job.’ I didn’t hear the rest of it, but by the look on Karen’s face, I assumed my manager was winning.
Karen still stayed around to shop, surprisingly. I took a few more customers, bought a few gifts, and went home. That was the only time in my two months there that my manager had stuck up for me. It felt great. But forget you, Karen, wherever you are.”
Why Would You Leave Your Kid With A Complete Stranger?
“I’m pretty good at ignoring any shenanigans happening in movie theaters, and annoying children and talkative people aside. I haven’t experienced anything particularly outlandish. Until this.
There’s one mall in Athens, which combines a pretty massive shopping complex with a 15-screen movie theater hall and a decent food court. It’s a nice place to hang out. I had work the next day so I figured, I’d do an early screening and get home before it got too late.
The hall wasn’t very crowded, which is always nice. My designated seat was towards the back, picked for my eyesight issues. As the seats filled up, I was still pretty much by myself, and I had some popcorn and a soda so I expected a pretty relaxed evening with a good movie. While the pre-movie ads were running, I checked a sudden text I got from one of my students regarding an upcoming test, before I shut off my phone. I don’t care about fiddling with my phone in the cinema, but I take my students’ requests pretty seriously, so I took a moment to reply.
That’s why I wasn’t paying attention much when SHE showed up.
A mother (whom I would come to identify as a Greek variant of a ‘Karen’), came down the isle with a kid about 12 years old I think. I specifically remember the moment she came into the hall because she had one of those charm bracelets on that make really obnoxious jingling noises when you move your wrist. I caught myself thinking, ‘Oh heck, she’s going to jingle all the way through the film.’
I watched her stop halfway down the aisle with the kid and scan the seats in a weirdly careful way. Then, she brightened up the moment she saw me, a single female siting alone vaguely towards the back. She scurried over and before I know it, she plopped the kid into a seat next to me, shoved a large box of popcorn in his lap and pushed two shopping bags under his seat (I think one of them was from a pretty expensive local brand or Zara, I can’t recall, but man, they were stuffed).
Then she looks me dead in the eye and says, ‘Hello! I have some shopping to do and I can’t drag him around with me. He really wants to see this film! Would you awfully mind keeping an eye on him? You can share popcorn!’
I want to clarify that I’m an introvert who isn’t a fan of confrontation, but I’m not a pushover.
I kind of stared blankly at her because what she was saying made no sense to me at all, but it didn’t matter because she didn’t even WAIT for my answer. She just turned to leave, somehow certain in her mind that my stunned silence meant consent to this zany idea. The poor kid just stared at me with the kind of face that said he’d been through this before, but he wasn’t happy about it. He looked pretty mortified.
I managed to gather my wits and stop her as she left.
Me: ‘Lady, I’m not your babysitter and this cinema isn’t your babysitter either. You can’t just leave him here.’
Entitled Parent: ‘But you’re sitting there by yourself, what’s the harm?’
Me: ‘I came here to watch a movie in peace, not look after your child.’
Entitled Parent: ‘You won’t even need to do anything, just sit there till the movie ends.’
At this point, she repeatedly tries to leave like nothing’s happening.
Me: ‘You’re leaving a minor with a total stranger. I can’t accept responsibility for this. What if I was some kind of disturbed person? Why are you so trusting?’
Entitled Parent: ‘Oh my God, what is your problem? I’m in a real hurry here.’
Me: ‘Ma’am you’re asking a total stranger to look after your child! That’s my problem! How did you even get in here without a ticket?’
Entitled Parent: ‘I do have a ticket; I just have better things to do than watch a kids’ movie.’
Me: ‘This…isn’t even a kid’s movie. How old is your kid?’
Entitled Parent, defensively: ‘I don’t see how that’s any of your business, he’s old enough.’
Me: ‘So if he’s old enough, why are you asking me to look after him?’
Entitled Parent: ‘He still needs supervision.’
Me: ‘Which, again, is not my responsibility!’
By this time, the ad reels are over and the movie is about to start. I see I’m getting nowhere with this certifiable loon and I am very stressed out by now, so I decide to bail. She actually managed to put me off so much that I disregarded the ticket price and the snacks’ price I paid and walked on out of there without seeing the movie and there would be no refund.
She didn’t follow me, but she did call me a ‘fat hag’ as I left the hall. I regret not calling the police. What she was doing may not have been illegal per se but ditching her kid with a random stranger sounds shady as heck. I wish I’d had the presence of mind to do something. I feel so sorry for that poor boy. She looked so eager to just dump him onto someone else for the evening. Not only was it a terrible imposition for me, it was dangerous! She had no way of knowing I was a safe person or not. I could’ve sat with him through the movie, but that woman just rattled me so badly I wanted to vanish.”
Maybe The Nanny Should Be The One Watching Your Kids, Angie!
“This story takes place around 2007, when I was about 15 or so. For a short backstory, my Dad was a pilot for a little over 20 years. In 2007, he was still flying for a private charter company who gave him a semi-old Merlin to fly. His job was to fly the owners of the plane to anywhere they needed to go to run their businesses in the US, or take them on vacation with their families. Around this time, my parents were filing for a divorce, and my dad decided I needed a vacation from my toxic mother. After getting the ok from the boss he was scheduled to fly, my dad surprised me and told me he was taking me with him to Florida for a few days. Obviously, I was super excited, since I loved flying with my dad in co-pilot ever since I was little. Of course, I loved watching him work, it was always really cool.
My dad and I got up at around 4:00 AM and drove to the small airport where he had parked his plane. He left it there when he wasn’t working, so he wouldn’t have to make the 4+ hour drive into the big city where his bosses were stationed at. After we flew to the small charter airport in the big city, we prepared the plane by cleaning the leather seats, and restocked the cooler of drinks. Once his boss and his family arrived, my dad and I loaded up their luggage. Already, my dad was a bit uneasy. You see, with a Merlin, you’re not supposed to load up the back side of the plane with too much weight, as it causes the tail to dip a bit. If you load it too much, it can either cause the plane to tip backwards, or potentially damage the tail on takeoff. Luckily, my dad managed to convince his boss to leave behind things they wouldn’t really need on the trip, so their personal driver could take it back home.
Boss and my dad got along pretty well and he made sure to always take my dad’s word very seriously, since my dad was an expert pilot. Boss’ wife, on the other hand, was a VERY entitled person, who will now be called Angie. She brought a nanny with her (lets call her Steph) that was her personal friend. Steph’s job was to babysit Angie’s two boys (around 5 and 6), and also babysit Angie’s 1 year old baby daughter while on this trip. Dad was already a bit angry, because he had already put it in their Flight Plan that we only had six people and one infant in total on the plane, and didn’t know Angie was bringing Steph. Now, he needed to make a few phone calls to fix this so he wouldn’t get in trouble with the FAA.
While my dad was doing this, Angie was whining and moaning about how hot it was sitting in the plane. She was whining about my dad taking so long. Thankfully, Boss told her to stop and reassured her we would take off soon. Already, I had a bad impression of her. This was gonna be a long flight.
We took off from the airport, and while the family and Steph sat in the back, my dad got to work. We were about an hour into our flight, when I noticed a flashing light on the console. I look down to see it was coming from what I call the Plane’s status gauge, and it was blinking red for the right wheel compartment. I asked my dad if that was normal and he seemed a bit confused. However, he reassured me that it shouldn’t be a problem. Few minutes later, the right side began to shake pretty badly in a rhythmic way, and we KNEW that was not turbulence. I asked him since on his GPS it said we were near another major city, if we should land and find out what’s wrong. He agreed, and after talking to Boss, we landed safely.
While we waited in the Terminal for Boss and Dad, I was watching the news in the main lobby while Angie and Steph (who was holding the baby) complained about the stop.
Angie: ‘Ugh, why did (Dad) land? We’re gonna be late!’
Steph: ‘Yeah, like, didn’t you have a reservation at (some rich restaurant)?’
Angie: ‘Ugh, yes. I’m gonna have to call my Driver to cancel it. I can’t believe (Dad) is trying to ruin this for me! I’m gonna have to talk to my husband about why he bothers with him. He’s clearly incompetent, and he looks like he’s lazy. I mean, look how fat he is!’
I was nearby. Listening. The whole time, as this arrogant woman was belittling my father behind his back. My dad is a very large man with Russian qualities. He had a very stern face most of the time, icy blue eyes, and has been through too much in his life, which has made him have a VERY straight to the point attitude. I respected my dad, and hearing her talk smack about him just made me furious. However, I didn’t want to get my dad into trouble for saying anything, so I just kept quiet and watched TV.
After about two hours of waiting, we find out the problem with the Merlin. It turned out that as we were taking off, a piece of metal debris that was on the runway, got sucked up into the wheel compartment of the right side, causing the landing gear’s hydraulics to not lock the wheels into place once the wheels went up. It was constantly moving up and down, tearing up the insides and damaging the wheel. We got VERY lucky that we decided to land, other wise it would have made it VERY dangerous for us to fly or land safely in Florida. If we made it there. So, my dad personally began to make calls to arrange another charter flight for Boss and family with the company at this airport, while Boss stayed with the plane to hear what it was going to cost to fix it.
Meanwhile, Angie is letting her two boys run around the terminal like wild monkeys. They were annoying the staff, leaving a mess, and overall just being wild animals. However, I don’t blame them. The only source of entertainment was the TV, and a pool table on the restricted second floor. The in-ground pool that was out back was closed due to cracks that needed to be repaired. I look to Angie and say this:
Me: ‘Excuse me, ma’am? It’s not really safe to let them run around. Your kids could get hurt.’
Angie: ‘Oh, they’re fine! Boys will be boys; You can just look after them.’
Me, blinking: ‘You.. want me to look after them…?’
Angie: ‘Of course! You’ve clearly been watching them, so you can just babysit them for now. After all, your dad said it will take a few hours, right? Steph and I are having a drink while we wait (she had Steph buy some bottles for the trip). Since she’s watching my baby, our hands are tied!
Me: ‘…You sure that’s a good idea?’
Angie: ‘It’ll be fine! I need my mommy time, so you can handle it, right? My boys are sweet, so if you tell them to stop, they’ll listen.’
That…didn’t happen. I ended up chasing the boys around the airport terminal for about three hours, telling them to stop or just trying to keep them from getting into more trouble. I had to pull them out of offices, keep them from crossing the DO NOT ENTER line for the pool, keep them out of the fridge in the Pilot lounge, and many times had to run outside to keep them from going out onto the airport Taxiway. I didn’t want to get blamed if they were run over or got seriously hurt from the equipment out on the ramp. While I was running around making sure these two didn’t get into more trouble, Angie continued to whine and complain about how long it was taking to leave, and how, ‘We’re not going to make it to the beach today. This trip is gonna be ruined! How could (Dad) do this to us?! My boys were looking forward to the beach!’
It was finally around 9:00 pm when the boys passed out in chairs in the Terminal. I was beyond exhausted, so I collapsed on the couch.
My dad came in to check on me, and he noticed how exhausted I was. He asked me if I was alright, and I made sure to quietly tell him what happened. I even pointed over to Angie and Steph, who were laughing while finishing off their second bottle of Cabernet. They were pretty sloshed, while the baby slept in her carrier beside them. My dad was MAD, but he was proud of me for trying to make sure he didn’t get into trouble. He knew he couldn’t take Angie on himself, since she was Boss’ wife. However, he knew how to get her into trouble in a professional manner.
He called his Boss and told him that they needed to talk about another safety issue that came up. When Boss shows up, he asks my dad whats wrong, and my dad said this…
Dad: ‘Sir, I just wanted to let you know that your wife and Nanny have had about two bottles of vino, and I will have to inform the pilot who will be flying you to Florida.’
Boss: ‘Really? Why?’
Dad: ‘You see, if someone is trashed while flying in a small charter plane like ours, it is very dangerous. A pilot will be obviously in the front seat, and unable to watch your wife and Nanny. If your Wife or Nanny had any complications, got sick, or needed any medical attention, there would be a high possibility the pilot wouldn’t be able to help or land quick enough to help them. Not to mention, one of them could open the hatch door and could risk killing everyone.’
The last part was bull, since most hatches were set up to open only in an emergency and were VERY hard to open.
Boss, visibliy fuming: ‘What do you suggest?’
Dad: ‘Seeing as how Steph is trashed as well, I believe it would be safer to wait until tomorrow morning to leave. It’s not a good idea to put your kids in danger, especially at an airport or in the air. Thankfully, my daughter was able to keep them from going out onto the ramp, but I would seriously consider your options when flying, sir.
He basically told him the two would not be allowed to fly because of the safety reasons.
Boss walks over to his wife and Steph, and after arguing with her for a good while, he tells them they are staying the night in a hotel, and he and the kids will head to Florida ahead of them since he had a meeting first thing in the morning. Angie began to complain and yell at her husband, who quickly shut her down and told her he would send her home if she didn’t not listen to him. Since Steph got trashed on the job, he told her that she would be fired if he caught her doing that around his boys again. He even gave me $200 for keeping his kids out of trouble for Steph, which I shared with my Dad.
Boss left with the kids, the two women were taken by a driver to a hotel, and my dad and I took a flight all the way back home since we weren’t needed to fly them anymore. We ended up going to Colorado about a few weeks later once the plane was fixed.”
The Death Card
“I work at a Walmart, we get all sorts of weird and strange customers and employees. It’s just the nature of the world, I guess.
I unload trucks, I stock, I basically do whatever I get told to do, because, money.
My team is made up of mostly men, we have maybe 3-4 women including myself.
The Entitled Parent (EP) is an African woman, who moved here maybe 5 or so years ago. She has an adopted 3-year old boy. I hate kids, so I really don’t care for or about him.
Also, EP is known for being a rude, stuck-up, whiny person. She and I got into an argument maybe two weeks ago and she hasn’t spoken to me since, so this all came out of left field for me.
I was doing a sorting process, fellow Walmart slaves know it as ‘OneTouch.’ Nobody on my team does this process, except for me.
The EP was scheduled to do it one day and had a temper tantrum, which Is why we argued.
So I’m sorting, really just throwing everything into the totes and I hear a kid SCREAM. Its EP and her kid so I’m like, ‘Uhhh, maybe she’s just visiting?’
EP: ‘Hey, watch my kid while I work.’
Me: ‘Uhhhh? My hands are kinda full?’
Her kid sees me sorting and starts trying to ‘help’ by throwing things everywhere, even in places we don’t have totes, so now my job has become 20x more difficult.
EP: ‘Alright, have fun.’
Me: ‘No, I really need you to take this kid, I can’t work and babysit.’
EP: ‘WELL I CAN’T WORK AND WATCH HIM EITHER!’
Me: ‘THEN FIND A REAL BABYSITTER.’
Her kid starts crying and she starts yelling at me how I made her kid cry, and blah blah blah.
I have this petty thing I do. I have the death tarot card tattooed on my arm, so whenever someone ticks me off, I flash it at them. It’s reversed so can mean physical death or terminal illness.
She’s very spiritual and it freaked her out. Se told me not to do that and she doesn’t want that negative energy. If she dies, she’s gonna sue me.
Me: ‘At least you won’t be a nuisance to anyone anymore if you do croak, you old bat.’
She gives me the stink eye every time she sees me now. But, that isn’t anything new.”
They Still Laugh About It
“I have a son that was 8 at the time and he had a friend that he would always hang out with, therefore I know his mum. I’ve never had any problems with her until one week, the weekend me and my wife planned to celebrate our anniversary. We were going to a fancy restaurant with great food. But on Tuesday I get a text from entitled mum (EM) and this is how the texting went.
EM: ‘Can you look after my kids over the weekend?’
Me: ‘Sorry, I can’t. I’m celebrating my anniversary this weekend.’
EM: ‘WHAT? Then who is going to look after my kids?’
Me: ‘I’m sorry you will have to get a babysitter.’
EM: ‘NO. My kids are more important than your anniversary you need to look after them.’
Me: ‘What?’
I left it at that and was expecting nothing to happen, but boy was I wrong. Sure enough, as we were getting ready to leave, her car pulls up blocking our drive. I knew there will be a confrontation, so I went out first. I put my thing in my car and my wife go in. Because her car was blocking the drive, I asked her to move, but she refused. I threatened to call the police (because she was stopping us from getting out and our house is on a t-junction and she was parked on the junction, which is against the law). She again refused, so I get out my phone and called 999 (UK emergency number). She saw me call the police and quickly got here kids out of her car and then drove away.
After the police showed up, I explained that she dumped her kids there and then left. They took the kids back to the station and tried calling EM. She didn’t answer and the kids had to spend the night at the station. A month later, I get an email from child services saying after the incident, they looked into EM and found out she hit her kids and gave them unthinkable punishments and found EM unsuitable to look after kids and took her children away. They also thanked me for calling the police. So, after all, EM got what she deserved!
My son still hangs out with EM’s son and they laugh about it till this day.”
This Lady Is Truly Crazy
“Years ago, this new neighbor of mine (she had recently moved to a house on the next street over) kept trying for the better part of a summer to use me as a free babysitter. It started when her kid, who was really a cute, well-behaved kid about 7 years old, showed up at my door at 7:15 in the morning. We were all just waking up and getting around so I told him that my boys weren’t ready to play yet and to come back in a few hours. That is when the kid told me his mom had gone to work. This seemed a bit odd to me so I brought him in and tried to call his mom (this was the time of only land lines). Sure enough, she was gone.
So, I brought him in and fed him breakfast. He stayed with us the rest of the day and he got along well with my two boys who were 5 and 10. I had only talked to his mom about two times, so I had no idea why she would think this was a good idea. When his mom came home, I walked him over so I could talk to her. I told her not to do that again. I told her that I would be willing to watch him on occasion if asked first but not every day. Her response was, ‘Well, what else do you have to do all day?’
This kind of took me by surprise. I tried to tell her that I work at home on commissions. She rolled her eyes and told me that being an artist isn’t a ‘real job’ and besides I was married so I didn’t need to work. I should have pointed out to her that she was married and working, but I felt myself getting angry and I didn’t want to argue with her.
‘Just don’t do that again,’ I said to her. ‘You have teenage kids home for the summer, have them babysit.’
She frowned at me and said, ‘They work.’
‘So do I!’
Then, I went home.
The next morning at 7:15, the kid sheepishly shows up again.
Once again, I bring him in and feed him breakfast and later lunch.
Once again, I took him to his home and once again told his mother to please not do that again. She actually tried to tell me that it was my neighborly duty to watch him and I told her that if she sent him tomorrow, I wouldn’t be there because of a doctor’s appointment.
She said that as a babysitter I should have given her several days notice about this. I angrily told her I was NOT a babysitter and then went home.
The next morning I made my 7 a.m. appointment (blood work, that is why it was so early). I did some grocery shopping afterward and it was about 10:00 AM when I got home. The poor kid was waiting for me on my porch. He had been there for nearly 3 hours and the little guy was scared and hungry.
That night, when I took the kid home I was angry. I told her how the kid was scared and alone. She actually said that she had told me I hadn’t given her enough time to find anyone else and that his being alone was my fault. I pointed at her and said, ‘I am NOT a babysitter! Don’t send him over again!’
That night, this woman had her adult nephew call me to scream at me for not being home when his poor aunt dropped her son off. How dare I leave a small child alone like that? I told the nephew that his aunt KNEW I wasn’t home, so it was HER that left a child all alone. I said that I had repeatedly asked his aunt NOT to send the kid over anymore and I was NOT a babysitter. This nephew freaked out at me when I said that and I hung up on his screaming at me.
This worked for two wonderful quiet days. Then, right back to it. I tried everything, but this woman insisted that it was my neighborly duty to babysit and would tell me as much. Finally, I decided that to solve this problem: I would just get a job outside my home and that way she would have to stop (I was too much of a pacifist back then– I no longer am). I landed an interview for a position at the local library and I was ecstatic. I told the woman to keep her son home because I had arranged for my kids to stay with their grandmother while I went to this interview. The next morning, I drove to my mother-in-law’s house and took my kids inside.
When I went to leave, I found this woman’s kid waiting for me in my car! She had actually followed me there and put her son in my unlocked car and then zoomed off while I was dropping off my boys. My mother-in-law wasn’t the most flexible person in the world and she adamantly refused to watch an extra kid. I had to cancel my interview.
I was livid.
I toyed with several ideas at this moment. I could take the kid to her job and leave him with her…or I could call the police and CPS. I really wasn’t sure how stable this woman’s job was and I didn’t want her to get fired, and when I went to go call the CPS, I chickened out because it really wouldn’t be fair to the little boy. Besides, I had heard really scary stories about CPS.
In the end, I just waited for her to come home. I left the boy at my house with my hubby (I planned on doing a lot of cussing) and I stomped over to her house and met her before she even got out of her car. I shouted at her. I told her she was dense, stupid, moronic and crazy. I told her that she had lost me my job interview and if she sent her kid over to be watched again, I was going to call CPS and the police. I told her that she was violating my space and if it took going to court to get her to knock it off then so be it.
She then put her hand on her hip and in her most snotty tone she said, ‘Well if you didn’t want to sit with him, all you had to do was tell me.’
I really do not know how I kept from punching her right then and there. This comment was so asinine. I turned on my heels to start stomping home when I saw her husband pulling up. Now, this was the first time I had ever met her husband. He worked at a job that only allowed him to be home on weekends (I can’t blame him, I wouldn’t want to be around her either). But when she saw him, she turned tail and RAN into her house. He saw that I was upset and asked me what had happened. I told him. Told him all of it, especially the incident at my mother-in-law’s. The poor man was shocked. He had been told that I was being paid and he had been giving her money to pay me! He had no idea all this had been going on. He was very, very apologetic over the whole thing. In fact, he apologized again to my husband when he came over to pick up his little boy.
Finally, FINALLY, she stopped sending her kid over!
Later, I heard from others that she was badmouthing me and warning folks about what a horrid babysitter I was, but I took that as a favor. I didn’t want to babysit any kids other than my own and I still hate doing so. I don’t hate the kids; I love kids. It’s dealing with the parents that I don’t like.
The kid came over only once in a while after that to play with my kids, after he called first to get permission, exactly the way it should be done. I’m sure his dad had something to do with that because the kid only came over on weekends.
This is one of a few stories I have involving this crazy lady. Her only entertainment in life seems to be seeing how bizarre she can act in this neighborhood. I’m luckier than my other neighbors in the fact that she leaves me alone now, and I’m very happy with that.”
It’s My Birthday!
“Little back story: I’m the middle of 5 kids and it’s a complicated mess from my mom being married three times. Basically the order of us is my older sister from her first marriage that was raised by her grandmother for reasons I was never told. There’s me and my younger brother from her second, he’s only a year younger than me and we’ve always been super close because we were raised together. Then there’s my step-sister, who’s a few weeks younger and a step-brother a few years older than me from her third and last marriage. That man was a saint and treated me more like a daughter than my waste of skin father ever did.
The oldest of us is almost 10 years older than me and because she had a kid young, I was 8 when my first nephew was born. Thankfully, she didn’t live with the rest of us then, but when she moved back in with us when I was older (around 16), she had some fight with her baby daddy and bailed. I somehow became a free babysitter for her kids every weekend. This ticked me off A LOT because my mom not only allowed it, she told me I had no choice because ‘she needed time from the kids.’ Never mind the fact that I’m juggling school, a part-time job and Army Cadets and she was a stay at home mom. I had one night to myself each week to do my homework or go out with my friends and my sister would bugger off and leave me with her crotch goblins.
She didn’t even have the decency to feed them first and those little devils (ages 2, 7 and 8), were picky eaters. Trying to do my homework with these three fighting was more than I could take. It came to a point that I stopped coming home until late on my days off and just heading to the library or friends instead. This was also in the days before cell phones were common place and cost like $900 upfront, so my sister couldn’t text to demand where I was. As soon I would walk in the door, she practically bolted and got lippy if I told her I had to go to work or cadets.
My mom and step dad, who were truck drivers, were home less and less as we got older. My mom had made me start to pay rent when I got my part-time job, about $50 a week that went into helping the bills. I hated that because I didn’t make a lot and bus passes were not cheap. My mom also started to tell me that the money that I would give her for my rent was to go to my sister to buy groceries. My sister, on the other hand, used it to go to the casino with our other sister, then lie to my mom and tell her that I didn’t give her the money. I had to start getting her to sign receipts from a book I got at a dollar store just to prove she was full of it.
Anyways, this went on for close to two years sorry for the long back story, but this woman was the bane of my teen years and part of my 20s.
What finally broke the camel’s back was my 18th birthday. My mom and step dad couldn’t be there because of work, which was fine, and I had bought a nice dress to wear with some friends at the bar. Legal drinking age where I live is 18. They also told me they would be home the morning after, so we could grab lunch together after they had a nap.
I got home from school to shower and get dressed to head out. Because of her antics, I had a lock installed on my bedroom door. Plus, I didn’t want her kids in my room because they would break things. I was in such a hurry that I forgot to re-lock my door while I was in the shower. When I got back to my room, she was there, trying to zip up the dress I bought on her, but she was too fat to manage it.
Me: ‘Take that off and get out of my room!’
Sis: ‘I need something to wear tonight, I’m going out and you have to watch the kids.’
Me: ‘The heck I am. IT’S MY 18TH BIRTHDAY. I’m going out.’
Sis: ‘But I need you to watch them! You haven’t been home and I can’t afford a sitter.’
Then I hear a rip as one of the side seams bursts open. Smugly, my sister takes off the dress and drops it to the floor.
Sis: ‘Looks like you’re not going now, huh?’
She walked out of my room. I check the dress; the stitches on the seam broke, so I could fix it in less than 5 minutes. I call my boyfriend and tell him what’s going and he told me he would handle it and to get ready to go. I fix the dress, get ready and as finish my make up, I hear my sister start screaming in rage.
I go outside and barely hold back my laughter. All 4 tires on her car are flat. Then, my boyfriend pulls up and I pout at her, ‘Looks like you won’t be going, huh?’ And we leave.
Boyfriend had parked his car down the street and snuck over to let the air out, but not slash them. He wasn’t that much of a dirtbag. The night was a blast, what I remember of it. I didn’t get home to the buttcrack of dawn, just as my parents got home. Mom didn’t say anything– she just asked if I had fun and told me to be up by 11:00 so we could go and eat. I went to my room and collapsed into bed. I heard my sister start to whine to them in the kitchen, must have thought she could turn this to get me in shot, but my mom wasn’t having any of it and tore into her like I had never heard before. Not only was my sister called selfish and childish for trying to pull such a stunt, but she was not living there for free any longer. She was given 30 days to either get a job or leave.
She moved back in with her baby daddy two weeks later. Apparently she had been ‘seeing’ him the whole time she was living with us and was getting welfare checks without giving my parents a dime to help out while not even buying so much as a box of cereal for her kids.
To this day, I hate when any of my siblings, even my younger brother, asks me to watch their kids. I don’t hate my nieces and nephews, far from it. I just don’t want to be in the situation of being that run-to free baby sitter. I’m also the only one among us 5 who doesn’t have kids and I’m perfectly content with that.”
The Dollhouse
“Last year my mother and her partner decided to host an Easter lunch and invite their kids. My sister couldn’t make it so it was just me from my mother’s spawn. Her partner’s spawn included late-20s EM (20EM), early 30s EM (30EM), and his son. They all brought their partners, the relevant ones being 20ED and 30ED. 20EM and 20ED have one kid – 8G; a special needs girl who is actually very sweet but a handful. 30EM and 30ED have three kids, 10G, 6G, and 2B. I was 26 – so, an adult. However, people keep forgetting this as I’m short and kinda baby-faced to the extent that the first time I met the grandkids one of them asked my mum if I was ‘their age.’
Some context, some of my stuff was still at my Mother’s and I was in the process of moving it. An item that remained was my dollhouse – it’s not antique or special make or anything, it’s just mine and I’ve had it since I was 4. Over the course of my ownership I’ve added lots of little things to it, some of which are delicate. Again, not expensive or anything, but delicate. And, most importantly, it was partly packed away.
Now, the partner’s spawn all flock into the house and promptly dump their kids in the lounge room. They brought nothing to entertain them except 10G’s iPad. So, I’m being friendly and helpful and helping my mother get the food on the table when 6G walks up to me.
6G: ‘WHERE ARE THE TOYS?’
Me: ‘What toys?’
6G: ‘THE TOYS I ALWAYS PLAY WITH WHEN I AM HERE.’
Mother: ‘She means your dollhouse.’
Me: ‘Oh… they’re packed away.’
6G: ‘BUT I WANT TO PLAY WITH THEM.’
Me: ‘I’m a bit busy right now, and they are packed.’
6G walks off while I am side-eyeing my mother for letting a kid I have met exactly once before touch my stuff. 6G walked over to her parents, spoke with them for a second and then came back.
6G: ‘SHARING IS CARING.’
Mother: ‘Just grab the things that aren’t packed and let her play.’
Now I’m annoyed because I think it’s appalling manners to teach your kid that they can demand people’s stuff, but I am trying to be nice and friendly because they were all already asking where my sister was as they hadn’t met her. Sister does not like mother’s partner and wanted no part in any of this.
So I bring out a shoe box that has some doll furniture and unpack it on the coffee table, telling 6G to be careful. 8G walks up and wants to play as well so I try to create an equitable divide of the items because I want to go and eat now or have a drink. I look over to the parents and they are all chatting away, totally ignoring their crotchspawn, including 2B who just toddled on over to me and is now trying to play with all the TINY dollhouse pieces.
Me: ‘Hey, should 2B be over here? Do you have anything for him to play with?’
30EM: ‘No.’ [continues yapping]
So, I pick up 2B and try to find him something larger to play with, but he won’t have any of it and keeps going to the dollhouse pieces. I try to bring him back to his parents and they ignore him totally. Meanwhile, I have 6G yelling over at me to ‘LOOK AT WHAT [SHE] DID’ every time she arranges the furniture differently and 8G picking up every item and asking ‘WHAT IS THIS.’
I sit down on the floor with 2B and hold him in my lap so I can keep an eye on him; he has decided to sort the dollhouse pieces while his sister and cousin bombard me with questions. 10G around this time attempts to show 30ED something on her iPad (she had been making a short animation), to which he replies ‘Is that all you’ve done?’ and then she huddles back onto the couch never to speak again for the rest of the visit.
I’m juggling the 3 little ones when 2G decides that the best place for the little purple top hat is in his mouth. As I am wrestling this out of him, his father sort of dawdles up, drink in hand, looks at me and says:
‘He shouldn’t be playing with those.’
I just stared at him for a second and went, ‘YEAH, He really shouldn’t.’
Apparently my glaring went unnoticed as he dawdled back up to the table.
By the time I get some food, most of it is gone and they start to leave. I get no thanks from the 30EM and 30ED, but 6G does inform me that she broke one of my dollhouse items…
20EM hugs me goodbye and says, ‘It’s a shame we didn’t get to chat to you; maybe next time.’ It took a lot of energy not to respond with, ‘Gee, I wonder how that happened.’
While the 20EM and ED are the lesser of the evils, I consider letting someone miss out on food at a buffet style lunch to look after your crotchspawn to be entitled.”
If You Want A Free Babysitter, You Have To Pay The Price
“The summer between my freshman and sophomore years in college (so 18-19 years old), I flew across the country to stay with my aunt and her family for a couple weeks. My 3 cousins were 5–10 years younger than me, but pretty awesome kids. I had absolutely NO problem watching them while my aunt was working or so she and my uncle could have some date nights. This story is not about them.
On one of my last days there, I was out in the yard playing with the kids, and we decided to have a water balloon fight. We’re running around, going to war, and suddenly there are 5-6 extra kids in the yard. I stop and ask where they came from. One points across the street and says that his mom said to come play and I’d watch them, so don’t come home for a while. I look up and there’s a couple moms standing on the porch of the house a few down, they see me look, raise a hand in a ‘shoo’ wave, and go inside the house.
Okay, fine, the more the merrier. It would have been nice if they had asked, or even bothered to walk the 100 feet down the street to make sure I wasn’t a psycho, but whatever. We played for another 30-40 minutes until we were out of balloons and out of energy. I sent my cousins in the house to get dried off and cleaned up for dinner.
But now we have a yard full of balloon scraps…
I went and got my stash of candy for my upcoming trip back home (because what is traveling without a carry-on full of sugar). I told the kids for every 5 pieces of balloon scrap they brought me, they would get a piece of candy. And we had at least 200 balloons (which popped into 1-2 pieces).
I sent those extra kids home packed to the gills with sugar, bouncing off the walls, and talking a mile a minute.
Sure, those moms may have gotten a free babysitter for 45 minutes, but I guarantee I ruined the rest of their afternoon and evening with sugar-wired kids who would devolve into cranky, sugar-crashed kids.
I was satisfied.”
