Parents have all kinds of tricks to keep from losing their minds. Some switch out certain foods to get their kids to eat their veggies, others conceal the death of a pet to prevent a broken heart. Some just like to fuck with their kids for sport. No matter the reason (or circumstance), once the other shoe drops and the kids realize what’s up, they become the stuff family legends are made of.
Cyberslick188 tells us how his mother used to put Aunt Jemima’s maple syrup into a different bottle to keep him from whining:
Today we made waffles while I’m visiting home for a week and my mom mentioned how she would just put Aunt Jemima’s back into the fancy maple syrup bottle and how I’d always say something like “See, mom? I can taste the difference”.
For 10 years my parents have been laughing at my dickishness. Have your parents ever done something similar to you?
Timothygruich’s dad was a first-class troll dad:
My dad used to call me into the bathroom to look at his poop. I was always shocked out of my mind. It looked like little stars and perfect circles and even dog bones. I couldn’t figure out why mine always looked stupid. Turns out he was throwing dog food into the toilet and waiting for it to bloat up before calling me in.
And so it begins.
Bravetostadora’s parents used codes to fool their kids:
My parents used to lock their door to their room sometimes. When a sibling or myself would knock on the door they would say, “You can’t come in, we’re talking about Christmas!” We would always get so excited thinking they were discussing our presents.
They told us the truth a few years ago and my siblings and I were flabbergasted! Since then, my dad occasionally sings Christmas songs to annoy us (his favorite is Jingle Bells). And now I associate Christmas with my parents having sex.
By far the most absurd story of obfuscation comes from ahbehvey:
I recently found out at age 20 that the zebra my aunt purchased for her farm when I was a kid did not in fact die from not being able to handle the environment of upstate New York. Rather, it was trampled to death by her llamas. Don’t fuck with llamas.
What cjtulowiecki’s mom did should be illegal:
My mom bought me megablocks and put them into an old Lego container once. Bullshit.
Lhmhi represents for the brand-name toys:
There’s some shit you just don’t fuck with. Brick life, son.
katieepretzel’s dad was probably well-intentioned:
My dad once told me fried calamari was just fried chicken to get me to eat it, assuming that I’d like it and he could tell me afterwards, “HA! You ate squid and you liked it!” Joke was on him though, it turns out I’m deathly allergic to squid.
Dragonfly42’s mom was arguably just a really good planner:
When I was pretty young, and my dad was overseas, my mom decided that we should save up for a trip to Disneyland. She put this big jar on the counter and said that when it was full, we would have enough for the trip. Fast forward — The jar is full, we count it up, we go to Disneyland. Fun as hell. Fast forward again — Now 20-year-old me reminiscing with my mom about my childhood, I mention the jar and Disneyland and she says “Oh, I had the money saved up already, I was just waiting for you to get taller so you could go on all the rides.”
All acreeb15 wanted was to go to Disney World, but it’s not so cheap to get from Massachusetts to Florida. Luckily for his parents, he was an incredibly gullible child:
When I was in kindergarten, all of my friends would go to Disney World and talk about all of the rides they went on. I was really jealous because I had never been. Every day I would cry and cry just begging to go. One day in the middle of the week they just gave in and said we would go.
I was psyched. We went on the horse that goes back and forth and got necklaces. We also saw a lot of couches and chairs and other furniture. The next day in class I told all of my friends that I went to Disney World yesterday. They were amazed that I only went in one day. Turns out we actually went to Jordan’s Furniture and my parents told me it was Disney World.
More than a few hairstylists probably deserve an apology from GrinningPariah’s mother:
Every time we went to the hairdresser they’d fuck it up. At the time I really preferred long hair, and they’d always cut it way too short and in styles I didn’t like. Eventually I decided that all professional hairdressers were huge fuck-ups who didn’t listen, and I was going to take matters into my own hands. I’ve been cutting my own hair since I was 15. I’m 23 now and actually pretty damn good at it.
So, just a few months ago, I was over at their place for dinner, and my mom casually mentions that she’d always told the hairdressers to ignore what I said and cut it a certain way. I was floored! I’d lost faith in an entire industry of people!
SomberJester’s mom favored a seasonal plan of attack:
When I was a kid, my favorite cereal was Cap’n Crunch’s Crunch Berries. If given the opportunity, I would eat nothing else. So for years my mother had me believing that they were only available during Christmas.
So about six years ago, I’m in the store with my ex and I see them. I explained how much I loved them as a child and we should get some. Then I realized it was July. I got really excited and even regressed a little I think. It was then gently explained to me that I’d been duped. I’m eating Crunch Berries right the fuck now though so all’s well that ends well I suppose.
Until SplatterSack was about 12 years old, he thought that money grew in pumpkins, not on trees:
When we were younger, every time we carved pumpkins there would be money inside. EVERY TIME. It would be a crisp, new, dry, folded up bill in the $5-$20 range (I’m guessing based off the current pumpkin economy of the time). They were grown by my Grandpa so I assumed, and was told, that they were magical. Apparently for YEARS, they would briefly distract me as I removed the lid of the pumpkin, and the money was placed inside by my parents/grandparents.
TL;DR: The pumpkin is a lie.
The award for ‘Most Twisted Dedication to A Scheme’ goes to peridot129’s dad.
Every year on Christmas Eve, my mom would pull out a magical jar of “Reindeer Food” (read: uncooked oatmeal with glitter mixed in and a legit looking label) and we would traipse outside to a spot on the yard and sprinkle it on the ground in hopes that Santa’s reindeer would stop and eat some. On Christmas morning my brother and I would wake up, go outside, and there would be — GET THIS — hoof prints on the ground.
As I got older I thought about it more and more and wondered how in the world my parents did that. It was so realistic. Those hoof prints were legit. Reddit, my father hunted a deer, cut off the hoof, and kept it in a ziploc baggy in the garage freezer, hidden behind a bunch of stuff, all those years. Every Christmas he’d take it out of the freezer, shove it into the ground and make prints in the dirt, and pop it back in the freezer. Gross, but… genius.
TL;DR Dad kept a real deer hoof in freezer to keep the magic of Santa alive