rSlash - r/Entitledparents BUY ME A NEW CAR OR I'M CALLING THE COPS!

Episode Date: February 21, 2021

r/Entitledparents In today's episode, OP has an incredibly spoiled and entitled aunt who needs a new car. Does she buy the new car herself? Of course not! She demands that her brother help her get the car. When her brother refuses, she calls child protective services on him and accuses him of torturing his children. CPS then pulls OP out of school and interrogates him to see if his father actually tortures him. Imagine destroying someone's family because they don't buy you a new car! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

At Salesforce, we're all about asking more of AI. Questions like, where's the data going? Is it secure? Are you sure? Are you sure you're sure? Get answers you can trust from Salesforce at AskMoreVai.com. Welcome to R-Slash, a podcast where I read the best posts from across Reddit.

Today's subreddit is R-Slash entitled Parents. We're an entitled Father tells OP that he's not allowed to cook in his own home. Our next wedded post is from a needed range. I've written a handful of times about this particular entitled mom. She is notorious for being difficult. She refuses to lift her plate with her own children, claiming she's too weak. She has five kids.

She won't watch them are really too much. She relies on our family and her poor husband to raise them. She recently went to the doctor and swore that she was diagnosed with complex partial seizures, claiming that she was having seizures every five minutes. She said that her brain was essentially rebooting over and over, and that was why she couldn't do anything adult-like. Now, I was skeptical because she had gone to the doctors on her own and her husband didn't know exactly what the doctor said. After weeks of medication, the drama goblin still hasn't cleaned her house.

Let alone any of the other changes she swore were coming. She just lays in bed and online shops all their money away. This can't be her fault. No, it must be that the medicine isn't working. She goes back to the doctor and they give her this kind of watch-like device to wear for a bit. The device would track her seizures and alert her and them if she had a bad one. The drama Goblin is sure that her brain is rebooting and so there's no way to get

her life back together. Instead of trying, she starts hounding her husband to have another baby. That all fix everything, just like the last four did. But her husband doesn't want to do it anymore. He's overwhelmed with everything as it is. She told him that she doesn't care what he wants. I told him to secretly go get his tube snipped. He won't, but he needs to. Pretty soon I'm sure I'll be making a post with the update. Drama Goblin is pregnant. Anyway, on the Drama Goblin's follow-up her husband goes with her this time. He's concerned because of the things Drama Goblin has done her said.

He showed the doctor some video he had of her seizures. The doctor tells the Drama Goblin that, according to the device she's wearing, she's not having seizures. Her brain isn't rebooting. That in her professional opinion, she believes Dr. Magalbin has some undiagnosed mental illness and referred her to a psychiatrist. She was firm and kind. But the Dr. Magalbin flipped out and told her that she was having seizures. That this doctor obviously didn't know what she was talking

about. The Dr. Magalbin wanted to speak with the doctor's boss because of how she was speaking to her. The doctor pretty much told her to get a second opinion if she didn't believe her, but really pushed seeing someone and getting diagnosed properly. Drama Goblin is pissed. She refuses to contact any psychiatrist. She made an appointment for another doctor and a lawyer because she's convinced his doctor singled her out because she has a disability and can't do certain things. She drives me mad, but at least she's entertaining.

Our next reddit posted from Yatu's Hobbes. When I was a preteen, my mom gave me a diary with a tiny lock and a key. I hid the keys and I began using the diary almost immediately. I was a bookworm and I loved reading and writing. I was also quite neglected as a child, so my diary was the only place that I could express myself and feel heard. I'd read my latest entries, and that allowed me to reflect on my own thoughts and actions and learn from my past situations. It was honestly really great for my mental health. For a time, my mood and mental health improved. Time passed. I couldn't tell

you how long, probably a few months. Shortly after that, I wrote an entry about my first wet dream. My mom became furious and confronted me full on screaming. She sat me in the living room as she towered over me, screaming in my face, asking me if I thought this was normal, that I was having to pray thoughts that no child my age should have. Honestly, for a preteen, really, it was actually perfectly normal. She said that when I was five years old, I made a promise to have no intercourse before marriage, and this was clearly going against my word.

I tried to defend myself at first, I didn't understand how she even knew about it. But she took out my unlocked diary as proof of my depravity, and my attempts to defend myself that it was just a dream fueled her anger even more. I sat there silently, crying, answering quietly whatever she wanted me to say to whatever she asked because nothing else would stop her escalation of screaming. I felt betrayed. My locked diary was the only safe place in that house. I was careful with what I wrote in my diary after that incident, and I said if you test to check if I was still having my locked diary read without my knowledge or consent. I did this by writing about a innocuous incident in a way that could have sounded like it was

more than it was, knowing that it would prompt questions out of curiosity. Every time. It never took more than two days for the questions to come out. It turns out she'd hunt for my diary's keys and would read it regularly. Needless to say, I stopped using my diary. My only breathing space had been turned against me. I significantly closed myself off from everyone.

I felt that even if my diary could betray me, then certainly other people would too. It was hard not writing. I no longer had an outlet for emotional or psychological relief. But I really couldn't trust anyone anymore. After a week or two without any new entries, mom asked why it stopped using my diary. If I had dared, I would have rolled my eyes and asked, what do you think? But I knew better than to attract attention to myself and I simply said that I lost interest.

What an absolute garbage can of a parent. Who honestly holds people to promises they made when they were 5? Honestly, there's really only one reason why a 5 year old would ever make that promise, because an adult told them to make that promise. Our next word of post is from Bronze Butterfly. Well, paint my face and call me a clown. I should have known. I really should have known.

Back story. This entitled Dad meets the whole checklist when it comes to malignant narcissism. He can do no wrong, no matter what. Everyone else is always wrong, whatever. He has to have the newest thing, the best thing. Nothing else is acceptable. To that end, he bought a brand new 7-seater car five years ago. He treated that car better than me, honestly. I was the un-favorite of the family. Even though I tried my best to be useful, nothing was ever good enough. My younger half siblings, the household help

and my stepmother were allowed to treat me however they wanted. I had moved to his home country to get to know that side of my heritage, but when it got too bad, I nope dad and went straight back to my mom's country. Life has done my entitled Dad a Bad Turn, especially after I left there three years ago. He hasn't worked consistently, bills are piling up, and he even had a stroke, which I defined out by a telephone relay basically. As a result, he's in debt for over $6,000 and is struggling to pay it since he can't work.

He also owes property taxes. My sisters both have school debt and he can't afford medication or rehab. Now despite all this, I spoke to my aunt and she told me that despite him being a dick, she felt a little sorry for him. I didn't like him either, but I said that I would give him $1,500, give not loan, provided that he gave me the baby album that I mistakenly left behind. I was basically offering free money to someone that I was estranged from just for a small favor.

He keeps asking her if I sent the money yet. I hadn't. This episode is brought to you by Lego Duplo. Take your toddler and their most exciting learning adventure yet, with Lego Duplo sets of Everyday Life. From the excitement of the dream playground to the fun-filled, three-in-one treehouse, little ones can dive into a world of imagination and explore, learn, and grow along the way. Make playtime a memorable journey filled with wonder and discovery.

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Yeah, maybe, but I got you picked. Ha-ha-ha. But I don't know what to do with those two salads and scrambled eggs. Kelsey Grammer returns in Frazier. Life's calling again. New series now streaming on Paramount Plus. Then he starts saying to my aunt that he'll send me digitized pictures because the album is not her property.

He went on about how I was blackmailing him and how he's not going to stand for it. That I hate him because I won't just send him the money. He said that I don't listen, that I wasn't mistreated, I just made it look that way. And who's going gonna believe OP anyway? Imagine being able to clear one quarter of your debt just by sending a worthless album. Any one smart would take the quiet shame of the help, as opposed to the very public shame of having your car towed when everyone in your uppity neighborhood is there to see. He could avoid having his name published in the debtor's page of the newspaper.

But I guess Spite is keeping him alive, not the medication that he can't afford to buy. He says that he's not gonna stand for me blackmailing him. Fine, then he can stand for the effing bus after the repo people come and take a stupid car. I'm done. OP, if your father sends you a digital picture of your baby album, then you should send him a digital picture of the money. Our next reddit posted from Scarlet Absol. Background, my aunt tends to go through cars like you wouldn't believe and had just ruined her 30th car. Yes, 30th. My grandmother, her mother, had offered to give her my late grandfather's car since my grandmother no longer needed two cars.

But that wasn't good enough for my aunt. She had her eye on an over-price seven-year-old SUV with a ridiculous amount of miles. And because of her financial situation, she needed someone to co-sign to get a loan for the car. My grandmother, who had lost her husband not even two years prior, had no interest in signing for a used car that would probably die before it was even paid off. So at Sunday dinner one week, my aunt asked my father, her younger brother, if he would co-sign for a car loan.

My father basically told her, no way. If I co-sign for a car for anyone, it would be for my 16 year old daughter, OP, not you. Just take dad's old car. This triggered a major fight between my father and his sister. It ended with my on-screening. If you won't co-sign for my car loan, I'll call Child Protective Services because O.P. is sleeping on a mattress on the floor. My bed frame had broken not even a week before, so I was sleeping on a box spring in a mattress

on the floor until we could get a new bed frame. None of us thought anything about the thread, since my aunt had a habit of making empty threats when she didn't get her way. Until a few days later, I got called down to the guidance office and the middle of a chemistry test for a quote, urgent matter. When I got to the office,

I was led into a small room with a school social worker and another woman. The woman then asked me, hello, OP, I have a few questions about your living arrangements. She asked me questions like, what's your home life like? How do your parents treat you? Are you happy at home? Do you have your own room? Etc. It wasn't until she asked, how do you sleep at night? Did I start to mentally

piece things together? So I asked, what is this about? The woman hesitated but eventually told me, we received an anonymous tip that your father is forcing you to sleep on the floor. We want to know what that's about. And that's when everything clicked and I was livid. I told the woman, I am NOT being forced to sleep on the floor. My bed frame broke about a week ago so I'm currently sleeping on a box spring in mattress until my new bed gets delivered. I'll bet you any amount of money that my aunt was the person who made that anonymous tip because my father refused to co-sign forward to get a new car. The woman from Child Protective Services looks stunned, then turned towards a school social worker

and asked if they had a way of reaching my father to confirm things. Since the number they had was outdated, I took out my cell phone and gave them my father's work phone number. Unfortunately, I had no idea what was said during that conversation since I was sent out of the room during that call, but it saved to assume my father confirmed what I'd said. Once they got off the phone with my father, the woman came out, and the lady from CPS apologized to me. I told her I understood, she was just doing her job, and I went back to class. The aftermath.

When confronted about it, my aunt admitted to making the call to CPS and my grandmother was furious. She made sure that my aunt did not end up getting the red SUV that she wanted. She was instead forced to take my late grandfather's 1998 Chevy Cavalier. Unfortunately, my aunt didn't get into any legal trouble for the false CPS report because it was an anonymous tip. But my father gave her a harsh warning about what would happen to her if she pulled another something like that again. My aunt is still super entitled and has sadly only gotten worse.

Our next reddit post is from Nathan. A couple of nights ago I was cooking for myself, which is a rare thing these days. Thanks to Prussian. I was making a pasta bake with a bacon-y tomato sauce that I wanted to try. It was going well. Basically all finished. I was just waiting for the garlic bread to cook in the oven. Now, the extractor fan for my kitchen is on the wall right next to the sidewalk outside. So that's where it vents the heat and went not from cooking. I can also hear people's conversations through this whole, like word for word if the road is quiet. It can be

funny sometimes. I'm about to check the oven when I hear a knock at my front window and I see an angry-looking dude staring at me. Like he was standing so close to my front window that he could see me through the net curtains. I cautiously went to the door and my cooking apron with a large wooden spoon. What was I gonna do? Sturrow?

Are you cooking? Uh, yeah, some pasta. Can you stop? The smell is making my daughter feel ill. Uh, that's not my problem, sir. How dare you! It's making my daughter ill! Now stop it right now!

Sir, I'm in my own home. I'm allowed to cook whatever I want. If the smell is making someone sick, then go away from the smell. And the guy just stops off. I return to the kitchen and continue cooking. When I get back to the kitchen, I can hear the dad through the extractor fan hole. He won't stop. He was very rude and he tried me with a rolling pin. Oh, did I?

A rolling pin? From making pasta? Sure. The next part was a little hard to hear. He must have walked further up or down the pavement or something because I couldn't hear it at all. I think he was on the phone to his poor, poor wife because not long after a woman came hurrying up to my window and tapped on it. Hello, my husband said you made my daughter sick. Miss, I was cooking my dinner in my kitchen. Your other half then banged on my window, saying the smell made your kids sick.

The mother said nothing and walked away in silence. I heard nothing from the fanhole, so I have no idea what happened. My dinner was good though, just a little dry because I was distracted. I love the mental image of like this guy's daughter doubled over on the sidewalk, sick, and gagging. Meanwhile, this guy just completely ignored us so we could go yell at some stranger when any normal person would just pick up his daughter and leave. If a smell is making you sick, you don't yell at the smell, you leave the smell. That was our slash entitled parents and if you liked this content, be sure to follow my

podcast because I put on your Reddit podcast episodes every single day.