rSlash - r/Entitledparents My Kids Need A Place To Live, So GIVE ME YOUR HOUSE! 😇🙏
Episode Date: November 11, 2020r/Entitledparents This poor, struggling mom just wants a place for her babies to live comfortably. So does she go get a job and buy an apartment herself? NOPE! She pressures OP into literally just giv...ing her a house for free. And as a show of gratitude, this entitled mother will *let* OP live in the house that she purchased (in the guestroom, of course). How very gracious of this entitled parent 🙄 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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Why do I love getting my holiday gifts at Chopper's Drug Mart?
The PC Optimum Points.
Perfume for Mom? Points for me.
Gaming console for the kids? Points for me.
Chalkets for the teachers?
Oh yeah, points for me.
Shoppers.
You should totally go.
Exclusions of life.
Welcome to R-Slash, a podcast where I read the best post from across Reddit.
Today's subreddit is R-Slash-Entitled Parents,
where an entitled mother expects OP to buy her a free house.
Our next reddit post is from hopeless cynic. This happened when I was probably 5 years
old and I wasn't very proficient with English since I had just immigrated from China and
knew very little about the language when this happened. A schoolmate's parents invited
me over to have dinner while my parents were out. There are a couple of things that you
should know from back then. One, this was a very religious family.
While my parents were atheists at the time.
Two, the kid and I did not like each other.
We sat down to dinner, and as soon as everyone was seated, I took a bite like we all did
at home.
That's when the mother reached across the table and yanked the plate away from me.
In this house, she said, glaring at me.
We pray before we eat, We're not heathens.
I looked at my classmate to see what to do.
I put my hands together like he did.
Not like that, she screeched.
Apparently I needed to fold my hands properly,
so I did as I was told.
The dad then proceeded to give what had to be
the longest prayer ever.
It probably wasn't all that long,
but I was five hungry, didn't really understand what was happening and had never heard a prayer ever. It probably wasn't all that long, but I was five, hungry, didn't really
understand what was happening and had never heard a prayer before. After he finished, the
mom looked at me and said,
Thirstealing from God, you wait until after we finish before you eat. She didn't lecture
me on how awful I was and how I was going to help for not praying properly or knowing
about prayer. Reminder, I was 5 years old.
My classmate said that he wanted seconds when he was done with his plate, so his mom handed
him my plate.
I didn't get dinner.
I started crying because, you know, I was a hungry 5-year-old.
She started screaming at me to stop crying.
I was ruining dinner for everyone.
That's when my mother rang the doorbell, and at the time she could speak English fairly well albeit
with some mistakes so she could understand most of what the family was saying. I
jumped up and ran to her in tears. Suddenly the family was all smiles and
politeness. She told my mom that I was picky so I wouldn't eat my food so I was
probably hungry. We got to the car and my mother asked what really happened.
I wasn't a picky eater, I'd eat anything, I still will.
I told her everything.
My mother stormed out of the car, pounded on the door, and gave the woman a piece of her
mind.
To this day, I wonder what sect of Christianity they claimed to be.
Because even though I'm not Christian, I've known many for years and I'm pretty sure God never said to treat someone else's kid like garbage before. Remember that part in the
Bible when Jesus stole food from a child and then told the kid that he was going to hell?
Yeah, that happened, right? Our next reddit posted from Chaotic Nature.
I'm a 32-year-old woman and I just bought my first house. It has three bedrooms, a yard,
and is just what I need right now. I'm single and have two dogs in a cat.
My sister is 34, has three kids, and lives in a two-bedroom apartment.
Lately, she's been talking about how such a tiny living space isn't enough for the
four of them. When she learned about the house I bought, she became very upset and told
me that I was being wasteful. Since I'm single and don't have kids and therefore
don't need such a big space. I reminded her that what I do with my hard earned money is none of her
business. She went on to complain to our mother about how selfish I was being. Yesterday evening,
I got a call from my mom telling me I should let my sister and her kids move into the house.
My house. I told her that no one was going to live in the house that I paid for but me, and that
the extra space was great for my dogs to play in.
My mom also got very upset with me and told me that I was being unreasonable.
That my sister's kids are growing and need the space more than my dogs.
I offered to help my sister out financially so she could rent a bigger place.
My mom got my sister on the phone who shot down the idea, telling me that I needed to let
her and her kids live in my house.
When I refused again, she very generously suggested a compromise.
I could live in the house with her and her kids and wouldn't have to find somewhere else
to live.
She said this is if she was doing me a favor.
I told her that she'd lost her mind and hung up.
However, my mom
and sister kept on pestering me, with my mom trying to guilt-trip me by telling me that
my sister had been crying over not being able to live in a nice house like mine. I got
fed up and decided to shame them. I made a post on Amaya the Butthole about this, and
of course most of the commenters could hardly believe how entitled my mom and sister
are. They got bashed pretty badly.
After getting the verdict from Amai the Butthole, I decided to send my sister and mom a link
to the post, letting them know that I had made it.
As expected, they freaked the f out.
My mom texted and called me many names, telling me what a horrible daughter I am, and how
I've embarrassed her in front of so many people.
I told her to calm down as they're all strangers
on the internet who have no idea who she is.
But asking my mom to listen to reason
is like asking my cat to stop shoving things
off of horizontal surfaces.
So I told her that I'd talk to her
when she's willing to act like an adult.
My sister's been crying about this to my mom
and any other relative who will listen.
Most of them won't.
The rest of my family's been on my side from the start and agreed that my sister's demands were ridiculous.
They think this whole thing is hilarious. So I got really confused about Midway through
this story. Did anyone else while you were listening just assume that the sister meant
that she was going to move into the house with OP? Like it didn't even occur to me that
what the sister actually meant was that
OP would move out and then she would move in. So when it got to the part where the
sister was offering a compromise that OP could live in her house too, I was like, wait,
what? What is she talking about? So if you were confused like I was, let me know by
hitting the like button on this video because I want to know how many of you were completely
bamboozled by this lady's entitled attitude.
Our next Reddit post is from Greg's Reddit account.
During my last few years of high school, I delivered newspapers every morning.
The money wasn't great, but it was my first job.
I really enjoyed the peace and quiet that comes with being awake before the sun rises.
It was an enjoyable experience, however, there were downsides.
For example, we had to go around once and
once to collect payments, which was a real pain. If you can't get a customer to answer the door,
they can't pay you. If a customer decided to simply stop paying you, there was nothing that you
could do about it. The subscription could only be canceled by the customer themselves, so if someone
decided not to pay you, the money was taken out of your earnings and the delivery person was the one stuck with the bill
Unfortunately, this was extremely common. This would eventually become the reason I quit since I couldn't afford to work two hours a day and
Knocked paid for it. One morning as I arrived home from finishing my route, my mother was extremely agitated.
My boss had called and woken up my mom 15 minutes earlier because he had started receiving
calls from the paper saying that several customers on a route connected to mine had called to
say that they hadn't received their paper, and that this had happened several times this
week so he had to fire the person on that route.
He wanted to know if I could take over the route.
The new route was only about half the size of the route that I was currently doing and would
only add about 30 minutes a day to my trip so I agreed to take it.
The first week passes pretty uneventfully. One morning during the second
week of doing my new route, I can hear a woman's voice calling out, excuse me! Hey you, excuse me!
I turn around to see a woman. She's coming down the driveway in a t-shirt and underwear,
holding a newspaper in one hand and using her free hand to try to pull the bottom of her t-shirt
lower to preserve some sense of modesty.
I recognize her as one of the substitute teachers in my high school.
Excuse me, what the f is this?
She says holding up the newspaper.
I stood there confused for a moment before applying.
I'm sorry Mrs. Karen, but I don't understand.
She cuts me off.
I thought I already told you.
If you guys are gonna fire my daughter for being a little late one day, then I don't
want your effing paper.
Still a little confused, I say, I'm sorry Mrs. Karen, but I've only had this route for
a few days and I'm certain that I'm not the person you spoke with.
Maybe you spoke with my boss?
Well, if you're not the person I spoke to, then how do you know my name?
She said wearing the smuggest, I've got you now, face.
I'm one of your students.
I've been going to the high school that you teach at for four years.
If you want to cancel your subscription, you have to call the number.
I can't cancel it for you.
This obviously wasn't what you wanted to hear.
She got really calm for a second and looked me in the eyes and said,
You think you're really effink smart, don't you?"
Before throwing the paper at me and turning around to waddle back up the driveway with
our granny panties running up our 45-year-old butt crack.
I called my boss when I got home to tell him what happened and that she wanted her subscription
canceled.
He told me that when he had called to fire her daughter, Karen had picked up the phone
and screamed the same thing at him, and that he had also told her that she needed to call the subscription line if she wanted her service canceled, and
that the teenage paper boy couldn't cancel the subscription for her.
He also said that when Karen's daughter accepted the job, her mom told him that she would
be away every second weekend at her father's, and she wouldn't be able to deliver the Saturday
and Sunday papers, and that her mom would deliver them.
The next Saturday I received an updated subscription list list and I checked if her address was still on
it.
Her name was on the list, meaning that she still hadn't called the line to cancel, so I
had no choice but to keep delivering the paper.
This continued for a few more months until I was finally able to convince my boss to cancel
her paper due to nonpayment.
One morning on a weekday, I accidentally slept in until about 4.30am,m. which meant that I had to rush to get the model delivered before 6.30,
which is a cut-up time before a paper can be considered late.
I delivered Karen's paper around 6.15, which once again is near the end of my route.
This time, Karen comes running out, wearing pants this time,
and starts yelling at me about how the paper is laid,
and that she's gonna call the paper and get me fired.
Just like they did to her daughter for being a little late one time.
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Nineteen plus and physically located in Ontario, gambling course, in typical Karen fashion was having none of it.
You can't talk your way out of this one, you're going to be so...apping fired. And she runs
back into the house laughing to herself. About two hours later, I'm sitting in class
waiting for her first period to start, and who should walk into teach that class today,
but Mrs. Karen. She's barely taken two steps into the class when she spots me and begins shaking her finger in my direction.
Nuh-uh, no, no, no, no, no, not you. You go to the office now.
My entire class is baffled for two reasons. The first reason being that I was a pretty
good kid and I didn't get in trouble often. And the second reason being that it happened
so quickly after her walking into the room that I couldn't have even had the time to misbehave in any way shape or form.
I arrived at the principal's office and checked in with the secretary.
She asked why I was in the office and not in class.
Look, Mrs. Nice Secretary.
I know that every kid who gets into the office probably says this, but I honestly didn't
do anything wrong.
I then explained what happened between myself and Karen earlier concerning the paper route
and that this was about something that happened outside of school during non-school hours.
She looks at me slightly confused and then nods at another girl sitting in the waiting
room and asks if I know who she is.
I didn't.
I'd never seen her before.
She was a pretty girl, maybe two years younger than me, with short bleached blonde hair
wearing a bantie with the sleeves cut off and what had to be at least 10 bracelets on each wrist. The fact that she had been crying was obvious.
Her eye makeup had been running and her face was red. I was sent to sit with her in the waiting area.
She sat on the furthest right with two seats to her left. I followed your no-edicate and took
the seat farthest on the left. As we sat there waiting to speak to the principal, she would periodically play with her bracelets
and rings, which is how I caught a glimpse of the fresh purple bruise around her wrist.
The principal's door opens and the secretary whispers something to him, which causes him
to glance at me.
Mr. OP, could you come in here please?
Now the pretty girl's eyes light up with recognition as if she knows who I am.
And at this point, my foolish teenage self realizes that there's something bigger going
on than me getting kicked out of physics before the class even starts.
The principal asked me what happened, and I explained to the best of my ability what
had happened that morning.
He thanked me and asked me to have a seat again.
When I came out, the girl was gone.
The principal asked the secretary if there was another teacher available with a free period.
She said, yeah, Mrs. Math teacher is free right now, should I pay her?
Yes, please.
The math teacher asked course me back to class and tells Ms. Karen that she needs to go to
the principal's office.
We spend the rest of the class with the free period.
I never saw Ms. Karen again, and as far as I knew, that was the end of the story.
Until a few years later, Pretty Girl ended up dating one of my friends and I finally got to hear the rest of the story. Until a few years later, Pretty Girl ended updating one of my friends and I finally
got to hear the rest of the story. Pretty Girl was Karen's daughter and her parents were getting
a divorce. Karen was drunk. Apparently, Karen had been the one to get her daughter that paper
out because she thought that her having that job would mean that her daughter would have to be
at her house every night and never at her father. Pretty girl I tried the paper out and living with her mom for a while, but being the mean drunk that Karen was, things deteriorated pretty quickly, and pretty girl wanted to go stay with her dad.
When she did, there was no one to deliver the papers, and that's why she was fired. Not because she was a little late, but because around 50 newspapers hadn't been delivered several days in a row.
Without the paper job, Karen had lost her imagined bargaining chip and was pissed, which is
why she decided that I was public school enemy number one, even though all I'd done
was accept more work.
She thought that getting me fired from a paper out that I'd been doing with that complaint
for three years would mean that her daughter would get the job back again.
She called the paper to complain about me, and despite them having probably told her
that the paper wasn't late, she decided to drive over to Pretty Girl's dad's house and
give her the good news that she was getting her job back, and then give her a lift to
school.
Pretty Girl had told her mom that she didn't want the job or the lift, and she wasn't
supposed to come over when her dad wasn't there.
Karen didn't like that, and dragged the pretty girl by her arm to the car. Pretty
girl went straight to the office when classes started and asked him to call her dad. He came
and picked her up while she was in the principal's office. Apparently, what I told the principal
was enough to corroborate Pretty Girl's story, which gave the principal what he needed to
speak to the union and have her remove from the school's roster until Pretty Girl had
graduated. That morning's event had also been the deciding factor in her dad getting full custody.
This time, Karen did NOT get the kids.
Oh, look at you, you're here to deliver the paper.
No Mrs. Karen, I'm here to deliver JUSTICE!
Our next Reddit post is from Painted Sequoia.
I just moved into an apartment last week.
So far, everyone I've met in passing has been nice.
No one's been too loud at unreasonable hours arguing with each other, stealing parking spaces
or other typical shared space craziness.
Yet, at least, I'd only been here a week.
I did, however, encounter a mama Karen and her six-year-old son.
My apartment is one of those half in the ground units with two other floors on top.
As such, the top of my patio wall is level with the walking path.
If I have my blinds open, you can easily see into my living room and kitchen.
This honestly doesn't bother me.
The weather is finally really nice here, so after work yesterday I opened my patio sliding
door and blinds let the cooler area in while playing some Minecraft.
After a while, I could hear a couple of women talking outside of your units down.
Just general chitchat.
I also heard a smaller kid running around, messing with the gravel along the pathways,
and generally just being a bored kid while mommy talked with her friends.
Really no big deal at all.
Then it happened.
I heard one of the women call for the kid.
Jason, Jason, Jason!
Get over here!
Jason!
I looked up to see the kid standing on the path next to my unit, transfixed on my TV.
Uh-oh.
He didn't answer quick enough, so Mama Karen came stomping over to him and jerked his
arm to force him around to look at her while she yelled in his face about answering her
and not watching TV.
Especially someone else's.
I thought the way she was acting was overkill, but I let it be.
He's not my kid, and I'm not a parent at all. I did pay attention if things got worse so
I could jump in, but I didn't stare. I only looked over when she called out to me to apologize
for her son. No, not to apologize for her behavior. I said it was fine.
Mama Karen took him back over to her friend and they continued talking. Eventually, the kids
started playing around near them again. Soon, he was back over at my patio looking in and watching me play.
Soon after that, I hear Mama Karen yell at him again. This time, he flinched and was just
frozen staring at her. This time, I jumped up and went to the patio door. She was already
atom by then and yelling at him again. I tried to interject to say that I truly did mind that he was watching me play.
This is where the Karen aspect comes in.
She turned to me sickly sweet, the demon gone for a moment, and kindly explained that
Dear Jason was grounded and not allowed to even look at a TV.
I said, bum or dude, to him in sympathy.
She didn't like that I addressed him and not her. I also
don't think that she liked that I showed him sympathy instead of instantly taking her
side, even though I had no idea why he was punished in the first place. She then asked me
something that blew my mind. Can you please shut off your TV when we're out here? We're
usually out here for some outside time for about an hour a day, or you can
just check your window and blinds. Not gonna lie, the people please where I've been raised
to be almost said, oh sure, no problem, and I was going to do it. Then I stopped myself
thinking, oh what? Telling me what to do in my house? I'm trying to have a thicker spine
so I told her no, I won't. Oh boy.
That sure as hell was her trigger word.
I thought she was going to reach in my house and jerk me around and yell at me like I
was her child.
Her look was instantly pissed off.
She again explained the situation fully expecting me to cooperate this time.
She laid out her case.
She made the demand again, but it wasn't a question this time.
I, again, told her no. I came home to relax, and this is how I do it. She asked me if I
had kids. Uh oh. I'm solidly child-free, and according to the laws of parenting, my
thoughts and opinions are completely and instantly invalid unless I pop out at least one
almost entirely full-term crotch spawn.
I told her no and she smirked. I thought so. I was ready for a lecture on how to handle kids
properly or something, but she just jerked her son away back towards the other woman who I
assumed was still there. She said something as she went, but I didn't really hear it, so I don't
know if it was to me, her son, or her friend. Maybe even grumbling to herself.
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