Entitled people are everywhere. You might know one personally or had an awful encounter with one. These 4 strangers call out their terrible experience with entitled moms. Yikes! Content has been edited for clarity purposes.
Little Girl’s Bike
“I’m a single parent, I have a beautiful girl who’s turning 5 in August. For the past year I have been fighting with my ex who tried to keep my kid away from me. Lawyers aren’t cheap, and being single doesn’t exactly help with my finances.
A couple of months ago, I won the lawsuit and I finally got to have my kid at my home again. For the past few weeks she was saying she wanted a bicycle, but still recovering from the lawsuit bills, I wasn’t able to afford it.
Last week, I got my summer bonus which finally gave me the financial boost I needed. So yesterday I finally was able to buy my little girl the bike she wanted so badly. I enjoyed my time with her riding our bikes, but then it was getting time for dinner, which I still had to make. So we headed back home and parked the bikes in the backyard. We went inside and I started making dinner.
After about 10 minutes, I spotted movement in the corner of my eye through the kitchen window, which was on the side of the house. I saw this kid (guessing 6 or 7 years old) just casually strolling by with the brand-new bike I just got today. My heart dropped, and I ran to the front door, hoping I’d catch him before he rode away. I was lucky I did.
I yanked the bike out of his hands and freaked out at him, saying it was mine and he had no right to just walk into other people’s backyards to take things. I was ticked. I force him to get off my property and set the bike inside my front halfway, thinking it was over.
Boy, was I wrong.
After comforting my little girl who had never seen me this mad, I returned to the kitchen to continue making dinner. Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rang. It was the kid and his evil mother.
EM: ‘You give my boy this bike back! He found it! It’s his!’
Me: ‘He ‘found’ it in MY backyard! I got it for my kid today! You should try teaching your dang kid some manners, he shouldn’t trespass on other people’s property to take their things.’
EM: ‘Don’t tell me how to raise my kid! Give me the bike back or I’m calling the police!’
Me: ‘Call the police!’
Then I slammed the door in her face.
By this point, my 4-year-old was crying her eyes out, and I had to comfort her again, as she was thinking she was losing her brand-new bike. Once she stopped sobbing, I tried continuing to make dinner, yet again. But that’s when the doorbell rang.
I flipped out, knowing it was the mom at the door. I stormed to the door and violently opened it getting ready to just explode into the lady’s face.
And guess what?
She actually called the cops. I instantly calm down when I saw it was the police.
I invited one of the 2 officers inside while the other stayed with the evil woman. I explained the situation and showed him the box the bike came in, along with the receipt that had my name on it.
He shrugged and apologized for the inconvenience, assuring me I won’t be bothered again. I let him out and closed the door with a smug smile on my face. I checked the front window to see what was happening, and I saw her go into a full tantrum. It ended with her in handcuffs and in the backseat of the patrol car.
Bye felicia!”
His Last Wish Gone Wrong
“I’m in a Dungeons and Dragons group with a couple of friends from nearby, and one of the members of the group was a kid who was about 15 years old. He’s a really sweet kid, likes helping other people out, and he’s a BIG fan of Dungeons and Dragons. He also has cancer in both of his lungs.
He’s from a religious family that basically forces him to act pure while he’s in their sight. The mom is religious, while the dad is just a sensible person who just tries to get him to be a good kid. When he’s out of sight of his parents, he just does normal teen stuff. Because of his mom, the only books he was allowed to own were Christian books and bibles. He joined our group mainly as a way to escape his home life and his mom.
A couple of weeks ago, the cancer in his lungs started to get to him, so he was taken to a hospital by his parents. He contacted me about this a day after he was taken to the hospital, stating he wanted a ‘Monster Manual’ as his last wish, stating he was tired of reading the same things. I bought him the book from Barnes and Noble, but considering he’s a dying teen, I got him ‘Volo’s Guide to Monsters’ and ‘Mordenkainen’s Tome of Foes’ stacked on top of that.
The next day, which was his birthday, he was still in the hospital, so I brought him the books as a gift. After he blew out the candles, we had cake and he started opening gifts. Mine was the first to be opened. Seeing what they were, he immediately got this humongous grin on his face and hugged me. Meanwhile, his mom stared down at the books with a look of pure disgust, with her husband staring at her with this wary look in his eyes.
She picked up one of the books and relights one of the candles and HOLDS THE DANG BOOK over it to try and set it on fire.
I managed to stop her and demand, ‘What the heck are you doing?! He asked me to get those books and I’m not going to let you take them away!’
His mom simply stared me down and said something along the lines of the books being ‘sinful’, ‘satanic’, and full of evil and that her son had no business with them.
I retorted and said how her son can read what he wants and she shouldn’t have to force him to be Christian.
She started getting red in the face and yelling at me about essentially forcing children to believe in God from a young age.
I stated, ‘I’m a baptist (which I actually am) and the faith in God is a matter between God and the individual.’
She turned red all over and actively started to try and destroy the books, with me, my friend, and her husband trying to stop her.
At one point, I shouted, ‘WOULD GOD WANT YOU TO DO THIS? TO RESTRICT YOUR DYING SON’S FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION?!’ right in her face.
This set her off.
She tossed the books aside and started trying to STRANGLE her son. Her husband called security immediately when she did this. Security got there within about a minute of the two of us trying to pry EM off of her son and drag her away, with her shouting that we were all ‘catamites to the devil’. Both her husband and my friend charged her with child abuse, assault, and attempted murder.
When it came to the trial, it was almost a disaster. Her husband, son, and I all prosecuted her. The moment she saw us she tried to tackle us shouting something about divine retribution, but the officers restrained her. During the whole thing, she kept pinning the blame on me and him, calling us corrupted by sin. Needless to say, she was pronounced guilty of all three charges that I mentioned earlier. The moment she heard this, she went crazy and tried to attack the judge, but officers tased her to the floor. Now she’ll be serving 20 years for the other three charges, with ten more on top of assaulting a court official.
Also other great news, my friend’s fine. Cancer has since been gone from his lungs.”
Her Daughter’s Interview
“So I’m a 20-year-old dog groomer. I’ve been one for 4 almost 5 years. The big thing in dog grooming is reputation, quality, and time management. One day, we were expecting a girl to come in at 10 to try out as a dog groomer. She seemed like a promising 23-25-year-old. She worked as a dog groomer at other places. But she didn’t show up until 4:30 pm.
No call. No nothing. She apparently had a hair appointment and because her friends from out of town came in, they also got their nails done. She asked if she could groom now.
I said, ‘No, I don’t think so.’
When she pressed more on it, I said, ‘We don’t want or need you. There’s no need to reschedule your tryout.’
Then I went back to get my last two dogs done. Apparently, she cried and I was starting to feel bad. But then her mom came the next morning.
She demanded we give her daughter a second chance.
I told her, ‘Your daughter was 6 and a half hours late. That’s not something that works in dog grooming.’
She replied, ‘She was with friends. I’d think someone your age would understand that.’
I replied, ‘Not when there’s a job interview. She didn’t call or anything.’
At this point, I was ticked and over it. I had five dogs to get done.
She said, ‘Well there was no reason to make her cry!’
I said, ‘I disagree,’ and got back to work.
Apparently, she stayed up there and demanded we give her another shot. As a head dog groomer, I said, ‘Not gunna happen.’
She left eventually saying her daughter was too good for us.”
“Can My Kid Have Some?”
“Last weekend was liberation day in Holland, Netherlands and many cities were having festivals to celebrate. Most of these festivals have free entrance, so they tend to crack down on people bringing their own food and drinks, to increase profits from beverage sales. A mate of mine lived within the area where the festival was taking place though, so usually, we drop our drinks at his place and retrieve it during the festival. Since it didn’t seem like a terrific idea to walk around with a bottle of Jack Daniels, I mixed it into a 1L Coca-Cola Vanilla bottle with just enough coke that it looked like coke and went onto the festival grounds.
While walking around with the bottle of ‘coke’, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
Festival etiquette is to move over to the side to let somebody pass, after which I moved along. I suddenly felt a hand grabbing my shoulder and trying to pull me back, so I turned around, and I was faced with a typical Karen.
Entitled Mom (EM): ‘Where’d you get that?’ She was pointing at the bottle.
Me: ‘Brought it from home.’
EM: ‘Can my kid have some?’
Not wanting everybody to know I had a bottle of Jack on me, I replied, ‘They sell coke over there, you can buy your kid a fresh, cold one.’
EM: ‘They don’t sell vanilla coke there, and he doesn’t like the regular one. He wants yours.’ Then she held out her hand.
Me: ‘If he doesn’t like the regular one, I’m pretty sure he won’t like this any better.’
Meanwhile, the kid started squealing, ‘I’m thirsty! I want THAT one.’
Then the mom started giving me a demanding stare.
Me: ‘Okay lady, I’m going to be honest with you. Half of this bottle is Jack Daniels, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to give the kid whisky.’
EM: ‘You’re lying! You just made that up so you wouldn’t have to share with my baby! Now give it to me!’
While I kinda shrugged and turned away in an attempt to disappear into the crowd, the kid grabbed the bottle with both hands, wrenched it from my hand, and made a run for it, his mom in tow. I followed them, and I found them just in time to see the kid take a few massive swigs from the bottle. Almost immediately, he started violently throwing up.
Figuring the best move for me would be to not further pursue the now vomit-covered bottle of Jack and coke, I decided to head over to my mates and mix a new one. In passing, I threw EM a ‘Told you’, and made my way into the crowds.
Within seconds, EM charged at me and started attempting to take a swing at me.
She yelled, ‘YOU POISONED MY BABY!!! SECURITY!’
We were separated by bystanders. Then a stall holder got security (S), which questioned both me and EM.
EM: ‘He gave my baby this bottle of poison and told him it was coke! I want him arrested!’
Security: ‘Sir, what’s in this bottle?’
Me: ‘A premixed whisky and coke, somewhat on the generous side with the whisky.’
S: ‘And why did you give that to a kid?’
Me: ‘I didn’t, sir. I was mostly planning on getting smashed myself, to be fair. They thought it was coke, wouldn’t believe me when I told them it was Jack, and then snatched the bottle from me. What you’re seeing here is just the result of the kid taking a drink before I was able to stop him.’
At this point, a bystander chimed in, confirming that he saw the kid snatch the bottle from my hand, although he hadn’t heard the conversation. Security told the mom to not pull that stuff again and to take her still-crying kid to the first aid post. Then he instructed me to be more careful with the next batch I’m ‘inevitably about to make’.”