(I always forget to put the butter away after making my toast, and my parents (usually my dad) always remind me to. They stress how when I’m out on my own, I won’t have anyone to remind me. Furthermore, they always tell me not to leave any food under the stove lights. On this particular morning, I remembered and am just putting the lid back on the butter when my dad walks in.)

Dad: “Hey, don’t put it away! I need to use it.”

Me: “Okay…I was just putting the lid on it, since you guys are always reminding me.”

(I leave the kitchen as Dad starts to use the butter on his toast. I come back to the kitchen a couple hours later. The butter has been left on the counter, under the stove lights, almost completely melted.)

Me: *facepalm*

(One of my regulars comes to my cash with her small child. The mother is very much pregnant.)

Me: “Oh hello, [mother] and [daughter], how are you today?”

Customer: “We’re great!” *turns to daughter* “Tell [me] what Mommy is going to have in September!”

Customer’s daughter: “A baby!”

Me: “Really? What do you hope it’ll be?”

Customer’s Daughter: “A puppy!”

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(A three-year-old boy is playing with some dolls at the day care center and separating them into families.)

Boy: “And this is the mommy, and this is the daughter, and this is the other mommy, and this is the son and the daughter, and this is the other mommy–”

Worker: “Where are all the daddies?”

Boy: “They’re in jail.”

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(I am a cashier at a locally owned grocery store that is frequented by families. A dad comes in with two sons. The younger one puts a drink in the front of their order.)

Kid: “Don’t put this in a bag.”

Dad: “Hey! You could at least say ‘please’!”

Kid: “Dad, you don’t say ‘please’ to clerks, only to people! I learned it in my lesson yesterday!”

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(A little girl walks up to me and my coworker. She is crying.)

Me: “Oh, honey. What’s wrong?”

Girl: “I can’t find my mom.”

Me: “Well, I can page over the speaker for her. What’s her name?”

(She gives me the name. My coworker gets a description of her mother as I page. When it’s a lost child, all we say is ‘We have something of yours’ for safety reasons. This is to make sure the child does go with their actual parent.)

Girl: “I think she left.”

Coworker: “No, she didn’t. She’s probably looking for you.”

Girl: “She said she was going to leave me if I didn’t keep up.”

Me: “She didn’t mean it. Don’t worry, she’ll be here.”

(We get the girl to talk about her school and dog to keep her mind off how scared she is. It is the longest we have waited for a parent to come. Her mother finally gets there, and stops as soon as she sees her daughter.)

Mother: “Oh, you! I thought I lost my credit card. Well, come on already! You’ve slowed me down enough.”

(The girl quietly walks over to her mother.)

Mother, to me: “Next time, just say it’s my daughter so I know not to rush!”

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