In summer of 1994 I was that lucky McDonald’s employee. I had managed to block out that incident for years. Thanks for the memory.
:mad:
I know it wasn’t actually you and Kid 2 in my Playland. But do me a favor and tell that story loudly to all of Kid 2’s friends next chance you get. It will make me feel better.
Oh, I remember one my best friend’s little sister did to me. We - my friend, her sister, her dad and mom, and a few guests - were all sitting around in the living room. The little one - maybe 3 - was playing on my lap. I was maybe 14 or 15 and very shy about my growing breasts. During a lull in the conversation little Maria puts her hand on my tummy and points at my breasts and announces, loudly, “You have TWO stomachs!”
The other evening we were swimming at the Y, and my 3 year old got out of the pool, pulled down his trunks, and peed into the pool. I know a large family pool like that probably has had dozens of kids pee in it every day, but he didn’t have to be so obvious.
Fortunately, the only person who seemed to care was a 10ish girl who got out immediately. A nice older lady came over and told a story about how her son, when he was around the same age, peed on a line of ants at a McDonald’s playground, because his grandmother had taught him to pee on ants.
My father has a bit of a pot belly. Once, when Ivyboy was small, he climbed up on Papa’s lap, patted his tummy, and asked, “Papa? Do you have a baby in there?”
I don’t have kids so yeah, I’ll say the punishment didn’t fit what she was told. She was told the punishment would be leaving. Cancelling her party seems like an additional thing that was tacked on. But ultimately, none of my business. 
Actually, the initial thing (misbehaving, told to shape up or we would leave, punishment = departing from Scouts) was consistent. Had she gone quietly - or even complaining but under her own power - that would have been that.
The reasons we escalated the punishment were the active refusal to go along with that, the disruption of everyone else’s meeting, and violent loss of control (at that point, it was not unknown for her to destroy things in anger - she broke a window a couple months earlier, broke a chair once, broke her boombox, gouged the drywall in her bedroom by pounding something against it). These made it imperative that I remove her from the premises by any means necessary. It was a safety issue. The party cancellation was punishment for the massive meltdown.
When you have a kid who can lose control like that, you have to have some leverage to get their attention and remove them when they are in public places, or they can endanger themselves and others. And/or get authorities called in - had this sort of thing happened in, say, a mall, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see security called in. As it was, the process (as embarassing as it was), Got Her Attention in a way nothing else would have. She has never since then behaved so badly in a public place, and if she melts down at home, she will go to her room under her own power.
I was traveling with my son but without my husband. For safety and to keep an eye on him, I had to drag him (and all our luggage) into the bathroom stall with me at the airport. This was a tiled, echo-ey place, and sound carried well. Especially the high-pitched voice of a young child. Who decided to ask at that moment about why I had hair “down there.”
My stepkids haven’t embarassed me (yet). They’ve tried, but I’m better at it than they are (Singing YMCA in public is the best way to make kids try to turn invisible).
But when I was a wee Swamp-pup, about three years old, I was with my mother in the grocery store. I walked up to the mannequin facing one of the shelves, and gave it a HUGE smack on the ass.
And that’s when I learned two things: grocery stores don’t have mannequins, and just because something isn’t moving at that moment, that doesn’t mean they can’t move.
Nothing to add to this thread, except that I am now reading your name as “Suppository and Illusion” and laughing like an idiot.
The only midly embarrassing habit my daughter had for a short while was calling all women “muchacha” a word normally reserved for younger women (say 15-30 years). Women on their 30’s and 40’s found it very charming. So did women over 60. I got many ugly stares from women on their 50’s, though.
Hoo boy. I have a few that I can think of. In the category of “Kids Say the Darndest Things”, back about a hundred years ago my mother and a neighbor once went Christmas shopping together. The arrangement was one adult would take all four kids (our three plus the neighbor’s one) while the other adult shopped for her kids. Well, while our neighbor and good friend had the kids, my 3-year old sister decided to show off her knowledge of bathroom hygiene. Quite loudly and clearly: “Oh look, toilet paper! We have toilet paper at home! We use it to wipe our butts after we go poop!”
In the same category, my sweet little niece, at about the age of three, expounded upon the marvel that was her new baby brother’s penis to Mrs. Drake, the neighbor down the street. We were all out for a walk and stopped to chat with Mrs. Drake, who appeared to be the kind of nice older lady who wouldn’t say “poop” if she had a mouthful of it. My niece introduced her baby brother as “. . . Daniel, who has a penis. Does Mr. Drake have a penis? How big is it? My Daddy’s penis is bigger than Daniel’s”. To her eternal credit, Mrs. Drake answered that yes, the penis fairy had indeed visited Mr. Drake, and we were eventually able to move on to other small talk.
And finally, there was a boyfriend’s daughter, age 4, who announced to an entire company Christmas party that “Dr. Woo isn’t wearing any underwear!” after I escorted her to the restroom. I thought I’d been discreet when re-tucking my blouse, but Ol’ Eagle Eye picked up on the fact that it was pantyhose only that night and spread the word when we returned to the dinner table. Right when boyfriend was making the big holiday toast (he was the president and host). I’ll never forget his response: “Sweetheart, that’s why Daddy hangs around with Dr. Woo”. Word around the shop the next day was that exchange was the highlight of the party.
Do you mean like when my son was going through his shy phase? When he would dive for my legs anytime anyone said Hello to him at the groacery store? The small but crowded grocery store that everyone in town crowded into at 5pm? Do you mean the lovely evening someone said Hello to him and he grabbed my skirt and pulled it over his head? WAY over his head? Displaying all of my cash and prizes to the assembled citizens who were admiring his cuteness? And mine?
:eek: I was going to mention that I as a tiny kid was so shy I would throw my dress over my head to hide, but that’s nothing compared to that.
When I was a toddler (in the mid 1950’s) I had watched a Daffy Duck cartoon where Daffy’s wife had shouted over and over ‘I want a divorce! I want a divorce’. My brothers and I had no idea what that meant, but it had a nice ring to it, so we repeated it often and loud. My parents, who never wanted a divorce, remember their embarrassment to this day.
My stepson from my second marriage embarassed his mother and me rather badly at a Xmas party at another couple’s house. There were probably 30 people there with their kids. The boy shat in a toy dumptruck one of the other children got from Satan Claws. He was about 8 years old at the time…
In his defense, it is called a dump truck.
“Hey! Those are my mom’s diapers!”
This was said by my 4 year old son, after he spotted my brand of maxipads in another shopper’s cart in the checkout line.
My son was about 3 and we had just finished a full day at the zoo where he had a great time watching the gorilla with her newborn baby. We decided to go out for dinner. While we were waiting for the hostess to seat us my son noticed the family waiting next to us had a brand new baby in a baby carrier. He also noticed that the family was African American. He looked at the baby for a long time. My wife and I looked at him and then at each other :eek: because we knew what he was going to say next. He opened his mouth and said, “Hey, that baby looks just like a mmmmpppphpppmmmm.” I just barely got my hand over his mouth and dragged him outside. He looked at me with a very confused and angry expression on his face and wanted to know why I did that to him.
My SIL has the worst time with her kids embarrassing her. She is not a drinker, maybe one or two beers on the weekend. My BIL might have 2 or 3. One time she took her 3 year old daughter to the store to get stuff for a family party. They loaded up the cart and were heading for the checkout when her little angel said, “Mommy, don’t forget your booze. If you don’t get it you’ll get mad and daddy will be mad ‘cause he won’t have anything and we don’t want daddy to get mad. Make sure you get lots of booze, Mommy!” This got lots of looks from the other customers.
Ooh, I think I feel a username change coming on!
This is a story about me. Once, when I was like five years old, my whole family came up from around the nation and we were about to go to lunch at Fuddruckers. The following scenario comes to be.
My cousin Courtney: Where are we going for lunch, Mike?
Me: Fuckers!
I did not know any swear words at the time, it was an honest mistake. However, that got a few chuckles out of everyone else.
Some friends were once at a Christmas party with their young son. The son had apparently been recently introduced to the concept of peeing outside, on a tree. Naturally, when he had to relieve himself, he proceeded to urinate on one of the host’s potted plants.
The situation was made more embarrassing by the fact that my friends were not the ones who caught him doing this. Instead, they had to learn about it from the host, who politely interrupted their conversation to let them know that their son was peeing on his plants.