Kids will be kids, but that shouldn’t be an excuse for them to mess up someone else’s house. These people share the most disrespectful thing they caught a child doing in their homes. Content has been edited for clarity purposes.
She Went Crazy With The Orange
“We were a U.S Army family living in Japan and had just taken a trip to South Korea. While there, my husband met the American doing the same job hubby did in Japan in South Korea. They seemed like a nice couple and had a cute little daughter about six years old. They really wanted to see Japan, but it being so expensive, they didn’t think they could afford hotels and meals, etc. So, we invited them to spend the weekend with us in Japan.
When they got there, their little girl turned out to be a total maniac. She screamed at her parents pretty much 24/7 and was really mean to our children. At one point, one of my children was eating an orange. She asked me (surprisingly, very politely) if she could have one, so I said, ‘Sure,’ and gave it to her. She then asked me (again politely) if I would help her peel it.
I said, ‘Of course, dear.’
So, I peeled the orange and handed it to her on a paper plate. She picked it up, tore it into sections, and squeezed them between her fingers dripping orange juice and ‘guts’ all over my carpet and furniture. When I told her not to do that, she started screaming at me and took the rest of the orange, threw it at one of my walls and ran over to the wall, and started smearing the orange into the wall.
Her parents sat there totally unperturbed, letting her do it. I wanted to pick her up by the hair and toss her off our fifth-story balcony, but being a polite woman, I didn’t.
I picked her up, took her to the sink, washed the orange off her hands, and plunked her down on a chair, and said, ‘You are in time out. DON’T MOVE!’ and then I picked up her mess.
She obviously wasn’t used to being disciplined because she sat there totally silent staring between me and her parents as if to ask them ‘aren’t you going to do something about this?’
The parents said absolutely nothing, but within an hour they said they had gotten reservations at a hotel and would be spending the rest of their Japan weekend there. ‘OHHH NOOOOO…you mean WE don’t get to share the rest of OUR weekend with you and your little darling!’ I thought.
We never saw or heard from them again.”
“A long-time friend who had disappeared off the radar when she’d had her son a few years before, found out I was living in Scotland and contacted me out of the blue. She invited herself and her son up for a visit which looked suspiciously like a cheap holiday because she was always very cheap. I told her I really wasn’t well, hoping she’d think twice about coming (it wasn’t a lie, I really wasn’t well at all). But I was told how well behaved the lad was and she said I could always tell him ‘no’ if he was doing something I didn’t want him to do in my home. Clearly, I should have seen it coming but I wasn’t thinking straight due to my illness so I agreed to the visit. It was a week, how bad could it be?
Before she came, she sent me a shopping list of things her boy would need, nappies (diapers), even though he was four years old (she was waiting for him to toilet train himself), treats, yogurts, juices, cereals, a car seat, etc. She told me she would pay me back when she arrived. I went out and spent a small fortune, which unsurprisingly Jo never paid me for. I wasn’t expecting her to pay for food, she was a guest.
At the time, we were trying to get our new house the way we wanted it because we really wanted to start a family. Right from the start, the boy, I’ll call him ‘Sam’ because it’s his name, got whatever he was eating all over the floor. He ground it in with his shoes and it went through the floorboards. Great for encouraging rats. I made a point of giving him his dinner in another room after that but he did the same thing with his food, this time into a brand new wool carpet. He ate less food than he forced into the floors and when he decided he didn’t want any more food, he demanded treats. Thinking I was doing the best thing, I said he couldn’t have any treats until he finished his dinner. My ‘friend’ went straight to the cupboard and got his box of treats out.
We’d just bought and had delivered a new set of furniture for the living room. It was brand new. My friend fed her son (although he could eat on his own at four years old) yogurt in my living room. He had it all over his face and hands and ran straight at the sofa, wiping his hands and face all over the pale-colored fabric. My friend said nothing. She made no attempt to look embarrassed and certainly didn’t run to the kitchen for a cloth. I cleaned it up, hoping the sugar in it wasn’t going to stain the sofa by making it permanently sticky. The sofa suffered in many ways. She didn’t take his shoes off in the hallway as I’d asked; muddy shoes and new carpets aren’t compatible. There was no respect there at all. I walked into the living room and he was jumping on the sofa with her watching him, with him wearing his muddy shoes. My car was also full of mud by the time they left. The back seat, back of the chairs, carpets, etc were caked in it.
There were quite a few more incidents. My husband caught him jumping up and down on the arm of the new sofa and told him no, firmly but gently, he wasn’t allowed to do that. Sam screamed the house down and his mother started accusing my husband of all sorts of things, despite being in the room.
The final straw was that she wanted me to take them into town. It was midwinter and it was icy so I told her we should wait an hour before going out in the car. She got up and ran out of the front of my house and started jumping up and down in my graveled driveway, shouting that I was a liar and it wasn’t icy. I was livid. I told her to stop showing herself up and that I was going in, my neighbors really didn’t deserve her ranting like that. How embarrassing. I knew the road was pretty icy, my husband had just sent me a text to warn me. She followed me in and told me she was leaving a day early. I told her that we could give them a lift to the airport but she’d have to wait for my husband to get home because my little car wasn’t big enough to get all their stuff in. She said she didn’t want a lift and left.
When she got home, she sent me a very long email insulting me and my husband and picking holes in everything we’d done to try to make their stay enjoyable. She also accused me of not offering her a lift to the airport and that she had a child and luggage and had to get a bus.
I didn’t reply and I blocked her email address and her numbers on my phone. This was 17 years ago and it still angers me that someone I’d once thought of as a good friend could be so freakin rude and disrespectful.”
“My Makeup Had Bite Marks”
“Two friends from college asked to visit me since I had got married, had a baby, and bought a new house. One of them asked if she could bring her son and if he could eat his dinner at my house as she couldn’t get a babysitter. I was happy to oblige. Note: her little boy was about two and a half years old.
They came to my house and she had brought a bag with some toys in for him to play with, which I was relieved about as I had no toys at all for a toddler.
She had forgotten his bowl and cutlery, so she asked if could she use mine?
I said, ‘Certainly.’
My only concern was him using an adult fork, so I asked was it safe? My friend insisted he used adult cutlery all the time at home plus he was well-mannered. Well-mannered was optimistic at best. He aggressively banged my dishes with his fork, so aggressively in fact, it scratched and cracked the dish. I couldn’t blame him, he was a toddler and didn’t understand he was damaging the plate. However, neither his mum nor our other friend (who he calls Aunty) stopped him and even laughed and made jokes about it, encouraging him to do it even more.
After he had eaten, he wanted to play with his toys. That was fine of course. Again, he was a toddler, so I was to expect toys all around my house. What I wasn’t expecting was for my friend to essentially ignore her child all night and he destroyed the place. He had climbed up to the ledge where I kept my papers and some makeup. Letters were strewn all down my hallway and in the kitchen. My makeup had bite marks through the bottles and packaging. Most of it inside the packaging was also shattered or destroyed. He had found my bag of shopping from that day with my baby’s brand new clothes in. The bag’s contents were thrown everywhere and trodden on.
I was appalled. The whole time I cleared up, neither of my friends said a word about what he had done. It was ignored while they carried on their conversation. I don’t think they even realized I had left the room to clear up after the little boy.
The worst it got was when, for some reason, my friend who was his mother needed to leave the room. He immediately screamed and destroyed my living room, but this time, out of anger. DVDs were ripped off the shelves, cushions pulled off my sofa, and thrown across the room. He finally resorted to banging his head with full force against my living room door. He didn’t hold back; I was shocked he didn’t knock himself out!.
My other friend simply sighed and half-heartedly said, ‘[Name] stop that,’ knowing full well, he was going to ignore her. I had to intervene myself before he seriously hurt himself.
When his mother returned and I commented on his behavior, she just laughed and said, ‘Yeah, I just learned it’s best to ignore him. You will learn that when your little one gets older.’
Safe to say, I’ve never invited them around again.”
“When I lived in military housing overseas, we had some neighbors who didn’t watch their kids. I believe they were actually the grandparents who had custody of them and the kids were total brats. I couldn’t have any possessions outside because the kids would steal and/or break them. The day we moved in, they were climbing on and into our boxes and refusing to stop when we told them to leave our stuff alone and get out of our yard. We had no fences and houses were fairly close together.
The guardians responded with ‘boys will be boys’ when we asked them to keep their kids off of our stuff. I was about 18 or 19 at the time and had a temper so when the kids were being rude and climbing in boxes, trying to pull stuff out, my father politely told them they could get hurt and to stop doing it. They rudely told him they wouldn’t get hurt and they’d do what they wanted.
I walked over and in a low voice told them, ‘If you don’t get out of my boxes and off my lawn, I will hurt you.’
This scared them enough that they ran off for a while. I know, it was immature for me to do that, but they were really ticking me off.
The brats would come in the yard and try to break open the eggs of an endangered species of gecko (the eggs were laid on the side of the coconut trees in my yard). I told them to stop it, but they kept doing it so I had to carefully pluck off as many eggs as I could and bring them inside to hatch.
One of the brats was particularly bad. He kept trying to run inside the house whenever our door opened. My brother would get home from school at the same time as the kid (my brother was a teenager) and the brat would just zerg through the door, run inside the house, and start pulling things off of shelves, chasing the cats, throwing things on the floor, trying to smash things, and just run into all of the rooms. He would ram into people’s legs and nearly knock us down. My brother would always chase after him and go grab him, carry him to the door, and set him out. He refused to listen if ordered to leave. He’d do the zerg-leg-ram thing immediately after being set out the door so my brother started having to push him farther away and eventually resorted to throwing him out the door onto the lawn and then slamming the door.
Every time we tried to talk to the guardians, they pulled the same ‘boys will be boys’ nonsense.
Little brats dented the hood of my car and broke my antenna and they still didn’t think it was a big deal.
It got to the point that my brother would catch the kid when he tried to run through the door and just throw him back onto the lawn, slam the door, and lock it. The kid got hit in the face once, but the guardians never said anything to us. I doubt they ever even noticed.
Finally, my brother found a way to make the kid stop running in by telling him there were monsters in the house that were going to get him if he came in again. He was too afraid to try to run in after that. But they continued with the outdoor vandalism.
We were so relieved when that family finally moved away and took those brats with them.
We later found out that if we’d complained to base security, the guardians could have been arrested for not watching the kids when they were outside; it was against the housing rules.”
Two Monstrous Children At One Party
“Two different families at the same function had horribly misbehaved children. It was an Australia Day party, as my husband still likes to partake in the festivities of his home country, despite living on the other side of the planet.
We set out lots of Australian goodies to eat, including Australia’s favorite cookie, (biscuit) TimTams. At this time, we were unable to find them in our region, so we had purchased a few packs on our last trip down under for this occasion. We only had enough biscuits for each guest to have two and made it clear to all of our guests that this was the case. One boy, aged 10, was fixated on these chocolate cookies. He asked his dad several times if he could have one.
His dad, despite being told two minutes previously that there were only enough for each guest to have two, told his kid yes. He gave the boy two TimTams and then left the room. After a few minutes, my husband noticed the TimTams were disappearing. I noticed the boy would hang around where the cookies were, and then suddenly disappear. Each time this happened, more cookies disappeared. I put the remaining cookies away when the boy had disappeared. When he returned again, he noticed the cookies were missing. So, he demanded I give him the rest of the cookies. He insisted his father only gave him one, and he was allowed two. He screamed that since I took the cookies away, I owed him at least the rest of the cookies since the rest of the food that was served was ‘garbage.’ His father heard him, and did not respond.
I told the boy that no one was getting any cookies at this point. His father waited until I left the area to check on the other children in attendance, and gave his son a few more cookies, to ‘keep him happy,’ as he told other guests. By this point, there were only enough cookies left for each guest to have a half. Most guests politely declined.
One said, ‘I’ll try one next year, but thank you,’ and glared at the father and son.
In another area of the party, an eleven-year-old girl was snatching stuffed animals away from the other kids, holding them out and dramatically stabbing them with long hat pins that she apparently brought from home.
She would randomly blurt out creepy things like, ‘I’m going to eat your face,’ and ‘I’ll rip out all of your sister’s hair and make a wig out of it.’
The other kids were truly frightened of her.
Her mother said, ‘Oh, that’s just (name). The other kids need to stop bullying her because she’s different.’
The mother then scolded the other kids for not being accepting of her monstrous child. I must add that she was the oldest of the children, and the majority of the kids were between the ages of four and seven.
Neither of those families has ever attended another function at my house, and they never will.”
Birthday Party Gone Wrong
“It was a year or two after we got married and my husband and step-daughter’s birthdays were coming up, on June 13th and 14th. I was going to throw a party for my step-daughter and she invited two of her cousins that were sisters and the neighbor kids.
I spent all day scrubbing the house down from top to bottom and then decorated for her party with balloons and streamers and whatnot.
The aunt (who has the same first name as me) dropped off the cousins and the neighbor’s kids were already there. The oldest cousin had this disgruntled look on her face upon arriving and the younger one was happy to be invited.
About two hours into the party, gifts were opened and cake and ice cream were served. I had to take a pit rest and was not paying attention to whom went into the bathroom prior to me going in, but someone had wiped feces all over the walls, window, and toilet. I was livid.
I came out screaming and I asked who did it. I knew it wasn’t the neighbor kids since they had been in our home several times without incident and the younger cousin was crying and swore that it wasn’t her. The older cousin said nothing, turned her nose up with a smug look on her face. I knew right then, it was her.
I called their mother, told her what happened, and said they would be on the porch waiting for her. I probably should have let the younger sister sit in the house and probably said something to their mother about respect and manners, but I never allowed her kids back to our house.
Several years later, the youngest cousin was at a function that we were at and she walked up to me and apologized for her sister’s behavior. There was no need for her to apologize for her sister’s actions and I, in turn, apologized for my actions. The mother nor the oldest never apologized for their actions on that day and the events that transpired in the following years.
I thoroughly believe in Karma.”
Caution! Wet Floors!
“A friend of my sister’s asked if she and her two children could stay at mine for a week so she could visit my sister. They lived a few hundred miles away (in the area that my sister and I grew up) and wanted to avoid the expense of a hotel.
The first night was fine but when I woke up after the second night, things had gone wrong. I went to use my upstairs toilet to find it blocked because an entire roll of toilet paper had been shoved in it. I went downstairs to find the same had happened to the downstairs toilet and there were the obvious signs that someone had gone to the toilet on the floor. My sister’s friend was still asleep and her two children (ages six and nine) were wrecking my house.
My bookshelves had been emptied and some of the pages had been ripped out of the books. Two of the sofa cushions had been torn open and they were drawing on my painted floor with black marker. I grabbed the marker from them and woke their mother since I wasn’t happy and didn’t want to clean up their mess all by myself. She moaned at me and said they were only children playing and I shouldn’t be angry.
I stormed into the kitchen to get some gloves and cleaning materials and the next thing I remember was laying on the floor with a paramedic above me. The children had tipped an entire bottle of washing-up liquid onto the floor and I’d not noticed and slipped in it. I knocked myself out on the stove and broke my wrist and sprained my back when I landed on the floor.
I ended up staying in hospital for four days because I needed surgery on my wrist and my sprained back was quite severe. I couldn’t stand and had lost control of my bladder. When my sister visited, I told her if her friend and their children were still there when I got home, I’d call the police and report them for trespassing.
They were gone when I got home and my house was cleaned and the floor repainted. A week later, I was given money to replace my sofa and the books that were wrecked. I was very surprised as this woman didn’t seem the type to pay for damage caused by her children. I found out a couple of months later that it was actually my sister’s money and that she’d almost emptied her savings account. Her friend never paid her back and I have never received an apology from the friend. I felt awful that my sister had spent hundreds of pounds fixing her friend’s children’s mess. I tried to give her the money back but she refused.
The following year, I went to visit some old school friends who lived in the area that my sister’s friend lived in. I found out she had spread rumors that I’d hit her children and kicked them out and stole money and possessions from them. My friends knew I’d never do that but I received a lot of verbal abuse whilst I was in the area from others who did believe it. I’ve never gone back.
I have had children of other friends and family members and I’ve never been treated as disrespectfully as I was by those children and their mother. Their behavior was rude, destructive, and obnoxious. I haven’t let their behavior turn me against the idea of letting children in my house but I am very cautious when I do allow children over.”
“The Markers Weren’t Washable”
“About two years ago when my daughter was three, she took her crayons and decorated my walls. She knew crayons were for paper only but did it anyway. I took away her crayons for a week. It took a lot of scrubbing to get the crayon off.
My friend and her five-year-old came over a few days later. Her little boy had markers with him. I asked her to have him sit at the kid’s table with them because I didn’t feel like scrubbing my house again. She agreed and I went upstairs to get the birthday presents I had got her boy the week before.
When I came back down, she was on her phone and there was marker all over my walls and my daughter. I flipped out, asking her why she hadn’t been watching him. I then got yelled at for calling her a bad mom which I didn’t do.
She ripped the gift bag out of her hands and stormed out with her son. I yelled asking if she was gonna at least help me clean. She told me to bite her.
The markers weren’t washable. I had to pay my landlord 120 bucks to repaint. And it took days to get it completely off my daughter.”
“One night, my girlfriend and her family, who had two little boys came for dinner. We had a really nice evening and the boys really loved playing with my cat.
Everything seemed well, until a couple of days later, the cat’s eyes were bulging and he hadn’t eaten for a day and a half. I found a string tied so tightly around his neck that I had to actually slip the scissors gently under it to cut it. It was so tight that I almost couldn’t get the scissors under it. Those darn boys did that.”
He Became Violent
“As a psychologist, I sometimes have private practice appointments in my home. A mother called me to administer an admission evaluation for her five-year-old son who was applying to an independent school.
She said, ‘Oh, you’re going to love this boy!’
My hopes were high.
Upon arrival, a little tugboat boy charged right past me without greeting and began to clear my coffee table of art objects and mineral specimens.
He asked ‘What’s this? What’s that?’ then threw the items on the floor.
I intervened and explained that this was not the way to conduct oneself in someone else’s home. I then attempted to guide him to the evaluation room whereupon he decided he wanted to go upstairs.
I explained, ‘This is not where we are going.’
He continued to proceed up the stairs at which point I grabbed him by the back of the pants. He turned around and threw a punch at my face. Missing, he then dug his nails into my forearm and hissed at me.
The mom was listening to this and finally came to intervene. Tugboat cried because he was not allowed upstairs. He then jumped up into mommy’s arms, he was probably half her weight causing her to almost teeter into collapse, whereupon I suggested an appointment for another day (over my dead body.)
From my calculations, tugboat is now in his late teens. I am seriously concerned about mom’s well-being and what his police record looks like.”