Real Stories of People Who Had to Deal With Entitled Parents

Enabling Parent

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This story is more about the kid than the parent, but the parent was supporting the behavior sooo…One summer day last year, when I had just turned 14, I was playing some basketball with these two kids from my neighborhood in their driveway. Their family is pretty rich, so they have a fully paved driveway big enough to be a sizable court.

It’s just them and me for about half an hour, until Satan’s son himself came over from down the street. This kid is the really stereotypical little jerk who made the select soccer team three years ago and still thinks that he runs the place. So we let him join the game and everything is fine for a bit. I’m a little bit on the ahem “bigger side” but I’m really strong.

So I play really well as a center, posting up and that. And the kid is guarding me and he’s getting worked. He’s shorter and not as strong so he’s getting dominated. Here’s the major incident. I’ve just grabbed a loose ball and I’m running back towards the basket. The other kid gets back before me and stops my drive, so I start to back him down again.

He must have just been really frustrated by him not getting a chance on defense, so he thinks up a plan. At this point, I was wearing a hoodie and the jerk grabs my hood from behind and pulls as hard as he can. I, not expecting my airflow to be cut off, especially while I’m breathing hard, start to panic. I can’t shake him off of my back.

I don’t know how long he’s hanging on, but it felt like a whole 45 seconds. That may not seem like that long, but I’m freaking the heck out, so it feels like forever. An eternity later, his grip loosens and I finally get him off. I’m fired up at this point, so I punch him right in the nose. Definitely not as hard as I could, but it certainly would have hurt a lot.

This guy, however, drops like he’s out cold. Meanwhile, I’m on my knees trying to get my breath back. He’s bawling his eyes out, he’s rolling and screaming and all that, being the melodramatic jerk that he is. Suddenly his mom is running over, and it was that moment where I knew I was screwed. Sometime between when he started and when I socked him, his mother came out.

She’s the typical “I want to speak to the manager” white, upper-middle class mom who volunteers to be the head of the PTA every year and goes to Starbucks 20 times a day, and the kid is very much his mother’s son. Mom: OH MY GOD ARE YOU OK? WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM Me: He just nearly choked me out, so I punched him. Mom: WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT, YOU’RE SO MUCH BIGGER THAN HIM!!!!

Me: But he was choking me out! This whole thing goes on for a while until the neighbors step in to try to protect me, but to no avail. This just goes around for another five minutes before the kid finally gets up and LIMPS, yes, LIMPS back to his house I go home because I’m sick of this and I’m tired. The next day, I try go back over, but the kid is there already.

Neither of his parents’ cars is there so I assume that he’s staying at the neighbor kids’ house until they come back. I decide to go back inside because I don’t want to interact with him. A couple of hours later, the kid shows up at our door with his mom standing at the gate of our fence. Kid: Um, hi, I was just coming over to say sorry for choking you yesterday, I won’t ever do it again.

Me: Uhhh, ok. Thanks, I’m sorry that I punched you. At this point, my mom comes to see who I’m talking to and she asks what’s going on. The mother pipes up and says the most ridiculous thing. Her: We are here for your forgiveness gift. Me: My what? Her: Your forgiveness gift, it’s a tradition in our family that the person who apologizes last has to give the other person something to make up for it.

My mom: Excuse me? What’s going on? I explain what happened and as I explain what happened, and she seems to get more and more disgusted by the situation By the way, the kid had tried to “correct” my story while I was explaining it to my mom, saying things like, “He punched me twice in the face, and then kicked me in the nuts while I was crying on the ground”. I can see from my mom’s face that she knows it’s all lies.

I finish explaining and turn back to the kid. My mom: I’m sorry but we don’t do forgiveness gifts in this family. Woman: We do in this one. Kid, pick something out. He looked around and saw my PS4, and he points at it. Kid: Mommy, I want that. Keep in mind that this kid is just about a year younger than I am, too old for mommy, too old for this whole situation in my opinion.

The mom walks up to our door and sees it’s my PS4: Great, We’ll take that as our gift, My mom, with steam billowing out of her ears, slams the door in their faces and quickly locks it. They start pounding on the door so hard that it sounds like they are trying to break it down. We leave the door, but they stay there pounding on it for at least another five minutes before finally leaving.

I still leave my neighbor’s house any time I see him walking down the block.

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