Knock, Knock
Anytime I was over at their house and we would go outside and play, I would have to knock on the door each time to come back in, even if I had been there for a while or if I had just walked in with their kid.
Their mother kept tabs on exactly how much I ate or drank while I was there and expected me to work for whatever they had given me. I had accidentally left something by the door and I realized after I got a few steps away from their porch so I just opened the door and reached in to grab it.
Her mother grabbed my arm and jerked me back into the house and screamed how I was a guest at their house and that I was to always knock before entering, how I was a rude child, she didn’t care that I was just there and what I grabbed was mine etc. I had known this woman my entire life.
We lived in the same neighborhood, she knew all of my extended family and treated me like I was some stranger. That was my last day playing over there. Story credit: Reddit / krdunlap88