rSlash - r/Entitledparents Karen Paralyzed Her Own Son!

Episode Date: July 28, 2022

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Karen loses out on a multi million dollar inheritance. Our next reddit post is from Buck Daddy. A little backstory. I came from a highly dysfunctional family and tried to spend as much time away from them as possible. In third grade, I met a set of twins who would become my lifelong friends, and their family kind of became like a second family to me. At the head of their family was their grandfather. He was unexdreamly, rough around the edges, my way or the highway kind of guy, and the fact that he was half Mexican and half mescalero Apache didn't help. Every one of us boys at the house was scared to death of him, and no one wanted to go out of town with him to work.

When I was 21, I ended up helping him on a job outside of Fort Worth, and during this time, we bonded. I called him Pop, and he called me son. A couple of months after we started the Fort Worth job, Pop received a call that his aunt had passed away. We stayed up having a few drinks and he told me stories about her until the rooster crowed. He described her to me in the same manner that us boys would describe him to others. Now this woman would drink a fifth of bourbon and smoke five cigars every day until the

day she died, but somehow she made it nearly 100 years old before she croaked. During the last 20 or so years of his life, the majority of her family had absolutely nothing to do with her, with the exception of one grandson. She had also done pretty well for herself, having a 100 acre ranch, a large farmhouse, and a seven figure bank account. Since her one grandson was the only person who visited her often, apparently she left everything to him in the will. Pop decided that we should attend the funeral. A few days later, we found ourselves in a small funeral parlor in the awful town of Waco.

The funerals was going as all funerals go, with some people sobbing, others binge drinking, and most of the kids looking bored as hell. As Pop and I are sitting quietly, minding our own business, we hear this increasingly louder conversation behind us. Really? Everything? What do you mean everything? That's what the lawyer said.

She can't do this to us. Can she? There has to be something that we can do about this. It's his fault that she died. If he hadn't provided her with whiskey and cigars all those years, she would still be alive. Don't worry, he's my son, and he'll do whatever I say. We'll sell everything and split it evenly between

just the four of us. It was at this point that Pops caught on to what was being discussed, as I'm sure everyone else around had as well, and he was not the type of guy to hold his tongue. He said, y'all need to shut up! This woman lived to be nearly a hundred years old, and you're gonna try to say that he killed her over what? Money? If you cared so much about her, then where were you the last 20 years of her life? He didn't hang out with her because of the money, he did it because it was his grandma and it was the right thing to do.

Before the entitled parents could regain their composure, the grandson came up, looked his mom in the eye and said, goodbye mom, this is the last time that any of you will see me again, and he simply walked out the door. That was the last I heard about any of it. The good grandson was enjoying his life out on the ranch and refused to have any contact with his immediate family. I spent another six months traveling with pops, working construction and learning masonry.

He passed about seven to eight years back. I miss that man. Even if no one reads this, it felt really nice to talk about pop. So it sounds like the grandson inherited FU money and one of the very first things he did with his FU money was say, FU. Our next reddit post is from Mutant Violinist. For context, I worked nights at a gas station. About a week ago, a couple of kids, probably no more than 16 years old, who are semi-regulars, came in around 2 a.m. and stole about $30 in drinks and snacks. Since I'm not allowed to chase shoplifters, I do what's required and I leave a note for my boss so she can pull the tapes and post the pictures for us.

That way we can tell them to get out if they're ever stupid enough to come back. You wouldn't believe how many thieves actually are. In fact, stupid enough to come back. These two morons in particular. Well two days ago I'm working my only weekly day shift, and who should walk in but my pair of thieves. And who do they have with them? One of their mothers.

I immediately buckle down and tell them they need to leave NOW. This is how the conversation went. Uh, you two need to go right now. One of the kids said, For what? Yeah, we didn't even do anything. You know exactly what you did and your band from the store. You can leave on your own feet or leave with a police escort.

You choose. They leave and go back to the car waiting for them at the pump. From the window, I can see them talking to the woman in the driver's seat, gesturing and pointing. She gets out of her car and storms into the store. Why the hell did you tell my son and his friend that they can't be in here? Ma'am, they stole nearly $30 in products. We don't allow thevery, so they're banned from the store.

You're welcome to come and get what they need, but if they're seen on their property, the police are going to be called. No, my son isn't a thief. How dare you! Get me a manager! Gladly. My manager has even less patience for customer garbage than I do. Since the store isn't very big, she already heard this exchange from her office. I bring her out, and she says exactly the same thing that I did. That is a bold, faced lie. My son is a good boy. You're targeting him and his friends for no reason. My manager says, you're welcome to come back and watch the tape for yourself. I'll do that. And once I have proof that you're lying,

I'll be expecting this little bundle of sticks to be fired. My manager brings Karen into the office and I accompany them. Let me tell you, it was a joyful experience to watch Karen's face fall when she finds out that her good boy is a rotten thief. My manager played the tape, and Karen's son and his friend were clearly identifiable, because their only means of disguise was their school track hoodies pulled up over their

hair. Folks, these hoodies had their freaking names written on the back. They were actually wearing these same hoodies as they were sitting in the car waiting. The Karen was too stunned to speak at first, but eventually she remembered how to be a Karen and stormed out shrieking that she'd be calling corporate. For what? Who knows, but she's calling anyways. OP, I think the smart thing would have been when you went to the office, call the cops

ahead of time. That way, while she's watching the video, you'd have time for the cops to show up and then you could make her pay the $30 that they owe you. Our next Reddit post is from Cath Joy. There's a 10 and a half age gap between me and my little sister. When I was a teen, I often used to take my sister to the local park to give my mom a break. At the time this story happened, I was 15 years old. It was wimbled in season, so my mom asked me to take my sister to the park for a few hours so she could watch it in peace. She gave me some money so we could get some

fish and chips in town and some ice cream in the park. So we got some fish and chips, went to the beach for a bit to buy mom some extra time, and then we went to the park. As we approached the park gate, this entitled mother who was dragging along her child, glared at me. You should be ashamed. I looked around, but there was nobody else that she could have been talking to. Dumbfounded, I blankly pointed to myself as it took confirmed that she was talking to me. Girls these days are such sluts, opening their legs to anyone who asks.

Who got you knocked up? Or let me guess, you don't know? I just stared blankly at her for a moment. Uh, this is my little sister. The entitled mother rolled her eyes and leared at me. Yeah, we had little sisters in my day too. I just said, okay, bye and walked away because I was uncomfortable with conflict and just wanted out of that situation.

Don't you dare go to that park! You'll spread your filthy diseases all over the park. I don't want my son catching your diseases. I just ignored her and rushed into the park. Surely she'd leave me alone when I was surrounded by other kids and parents, right? Wrong. This entitled mother followed me around the park demanding that I leave. The more I ignored her, the matter she got, and she kept repeating over and over. Get out, get out, you are not allowed here. At this point, a few parents noticed. One mother, whom my mom and I often chatted with, immediately stood up and rushed over just as entitled mother grabbed my arm and yanked me. Why are you grabbing a child? Let her go! Who are you? Mind your effing business! Let her go or

I'm calling the police. The entitled mother let me go but turned her anger towards the nice lady, shouting that she was just making the park safe for her child and I shouldn't be here because I might spread some nasty disease all over the place. She never specified what disease. I'm guessing she meant an STD or something? More parents started coming over to see what was going on. Seeing that she was outnumbered, the entitled mother eventually left, dragging her child behind her and screaming obscenities as she slinked away. The nice lady gave us a lift home to make sure that we were safe. When I told my mom what happened, she was furious. She packed us into the car and drove us around town to look for the woman, but we didn't spot her. Thankfully, I never saw that woman again.

Alright, oh my god. So, um, this person, if you're 10, no no, if you're 15 and your little sister is like 5, then that means that you got pregnant at the age of 10. And if I heard of a 10-year-old who got pregnant, I wouldn't assume that she was a slut. I would assume the other option. So her response to this is to yell at you and try to make you feel worse about it? What an absolute garbage human being! Our next Reddit post is from DefunctMouse. Today I bring you an emergency room tale.

In today's story, a man in his 50s, let's call him Wilbur, is brought in, clearly in pain. He's accompanied by his mother, Mildred, who's in her mid 70s. Upon questioning him, he tells us that he fell on his butt, and essentially, he has intense pain that resembles electricity going down his right leg. This is a clear indication of a herniated invertebral disc. We do an MRI, and sure enough, a disc is compressing his spinal cord. He also has a vertebral fracture, which while not compromising anything currently, seems so busted that it appears to be keeping itself together through the magical powers of sweat, sticky tape, bubblegum, and well-intention

vibes. We have to treat it ASAP before it compromises the spinal cord too. By this point, the neurosurgeon is already talking to Wilbur and Mildred and making a convincing case for what he considers the best option. Surgery. Mildred isn't pleased by such an outrageous and radical solution, which she claims that we're suggesting to get rich quick. Because surgery isn't the answer to everything, you see? She then looks at Wilbur with furious eyes, more piercing than a fencing foil and asks him.

What do you think, sweetie? Are you going to let these abusive monsters rip you off like this? Wilbur, who seems sad, reluctant and defeated, says, Well, I... well, no, but... Mildred interrupts him, and with a triumphant and devilish neer exclaims, See, we win a second opinion, we're leaving. We tried to reason with them, but all attempts were futile. They signed a document that certifies they left

at their own free will and left. I feel really sorry for the guy. He seemed to genuinely want to consider the options that we could provide, but for whatever reason, his mother seemed to rain over all aspects of decision-making. Wilbur returned about five days later in an ambulance, now with a much more frantic mildred who was issuing instructions left and right. All accompanied by an accusatory finger and flailing limbs. Something had put her on a Karen Crimson frenzy and she was out for blood. We began our usual questions,

and what we found out was terrifying. Apparently, Mildred took Wilbur to a chiropractor, who went on to do a cracking job on his spine to fix it, and after an audible crunch, Wilbur could no longer move and feel his legs, which prompted a race back to the emergency room. Unfortunately, the damage to Wilbur's spinal cord meant there was nothing to be done to recover his legs. Wilbur was sadly sentenced to a wheelchair for the rest of his life, and he'll never again feel his feet touching grass, sand, or the waves of the sea. Man, that sucks. This Karen's response to a spinal cord injury was, look it off, sweetie. That was our Sleshing Title parents, and if you liked this content, be sure to follow

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