I worked at a grocery store during high school as a cashier. One typical busy Sunday, I was ringing out an older lady who was buying among her normal groceries, a birthday cake for her husband. They had recently celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary, and it was his 79th birthday. She had a large sheet cake with the typical happy birthday greeting and a photo of him at his first birthday after getting back from Europe in WW2. She left it in her cart until I had rung everything else out so not to damage it. A child was with his family in line behind her.
The lady begins to lift the cake out and the child screams, “Oh cake, I want some.” The lady politely says, “You do? This is for my husband, do you think he will like it?” The child shrieks, “Yea, I do, and I want some!” The lady giggles and says “No hon; I would like to, I have a lot of people waiting for it. Maybe your mummy and daddy will buy you one.” The kid, obviously not used to being told no throws a fit and does a Hulk Smash down through the plastic into the cake and giggles and he licks his hands.
The lady is speechless, meanwhile, child’s parents are laughing and saying the usual “Oh _____, you are so funny.” The kid is still giggling and saying how fun it was. I chime in and ask them what their problem was, thinking it is okay for their kid to do that? They just say, he is 8, what can I do? I said punish him, learn how to raise your child, should I go on? I close my line down and leave them standing there while I go back to the bakery to fix her cake.
After about 20 minutes of cake surgery by our bakery ladies, reprinting a new edible image and new piping, the cake was good as new. Parents complained, but after I told my manager, she took my side and all was well.
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