Jordan Yates Proud owner of a gently-used family. Not all there but mostly functional. Answered Sep 23
My mom’s jaw grazed the table.
Two entrees drinks dessert and a tip.
“I'm… shocked. Not that you're being generous but that… you're an adult. You can pay for stuff. Wow.
“Normally I'd fight you over it and insist on paying but I'm just so surprised.”
Slipping my card back into my wallet I shrugged.
I snagged my purse off the floor and spun my keys lazily around one finger.
“Ready to go?”
Shefali Naidu Answered Sep 30
At a party after the dinner was over people were helping themselves to the desserts.
Just then I saw a person with a big tray of ice cream cones coming forward.
When he came near me I lunged forward for one when the person in sweetest way possible told me
“Ma'am this is for the kids. Desserts are kept there for everyone else.”
I smiled and awkwardly put the cone back.
This is when I realised I was no longer a child.
That person later gave an ice cream to a 19 year ‘kid’.
I mean come on! I am just 10 years older to her. Not fair.
Kaanthi Pandhigunta Full-time nerd casual thinker somewhat angsty teenager Answered Mon
We needed milk.
My dad tossed me the keys. We got into the car and I drove to Costco. Easy peasy. I’d done it tons of times before.
We bought the milk. As I was pulling out of the parking lot my dad told me to drive to the line for gas. Okay. We were pretty close to empty.
I pulled up next to the pump. And neither of us moved.
I asked my dad “So are you going to get out?”
“You have the money I gave you right?”
“And you are driving the car?”
“Then you get the gas.”
I had driven tons of times but I’d never gotten gas before. So I got out of the car in a bit of a daze and fumbled with the buttons. After a few yelps and confused stares I managed to fill the tank.
I got back in my seat handed my dad the receipt and silently drove away painfully aware that the curtains had closed on my childhood.
Christinalee Houseman (mostly) reformed picky eater upxed Nov 22
When I was growing up there was a restaurant in my city known for its salad. Any time you mentioned that you ate there the next question was always “Did you get the salad?” Whenever I went there with my family my parents would order the salad and go on and on about how good it was and how I should try a bite. I was a very picky eater back in the day so it took quite a bit of nagging to finally get me to give in and of course I found the salad to be disgusting. I vowed never to eat it again.
Fast forward 20-some-odd years later. My husband and I were at the market talking about our anniversary plans. One of the friendly cashiers overheard us right when we mentioned the restaurant we were planning to visit. (You can guess where this is going.) She immediately said “Have you had the salad? It’s soooo amazing!” Rather than diss the salad I just agreed with her. My husband however is from another state and had never eaten at that restaurant. Now he simply had to try that salad since both his beloved wife and the friendly cashier had given it such good reviews. Even confessing that I actually hated the salad did nothing to sway him - he was hell bent on eating it. Rather than continue to disuade him I took solace in the fact that as an actual bona fide grown-up I could order something other than the salad and no one would be there nagging me to try it.
A few days passed and it was now our anniversary. There we were at our table waiting for the waiter to take our order. He came over and asked “Will we be wanting any salad tonight?” My husband answered yes but before I could order something else the waiter said “Very good! I’ll be right back!” and walked away. He returned shortly after that with a giant salad bowl and two smaller bowls. He must have assumed that my husband was speaking for both of us. He served us the salad and then took the rest of our order. After what seemed an eternity he left and my husband whispered “You don’t have to eat it just give it to me.” I couldn’t bring myself to pass my bowl to him however. I was certain there were other patrons watching me and thinking “Why won’t she eat the salad? Why is she acting like some picky seven-year-old?!” Rather than confirm their suspicions I took a deep breath and ate a small bite.
It was fucking delicious. And that’s when I knew the last lingering thread of my childhood self was gone.
Broccoli still sucks though.