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Author Topic: Stop helping me! (Share your stories)  (Read 151437 times)

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Lynn2000

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Re: Stop helping me! (Share your stories)
« Reply #270 on: March 17, 2014, 04:19:16 PM »
When I style my hair I use curlers that I sleep overnight in. Different curlers make different shaped curls and most of them can not be mimicked well by using a hot iron.  For some reason whenever I am fixing my hair for a show (I do community theatre on occasion) there is always someone who wants to help with the curls and starts using an iron on them.  This usually means the curl is wrong or they straighten out an otherwise fine curl which just needed to be wrapped the right way around a finger. I know it isn't a big deal, but they often cause my hair to end up in knots or to loose the curl entirely.  Just don't help!

Not to mention, someone is coming at your head with a hot iron when you didn't expect/want them to!  :o
~Lynn2000

AmethystAnne

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Re: Stop helping me! (Share your stories)
« Reply #271 on: March 17, 2014, 05:06:14 PM »
If she were a member, my Mom would have a story to post here about 5 year old me.

I wanted to help Mom in the garden. Walking carefully between the rows, I carefully pulled up all the carrots and put them in my little red wagon. Said carrots really weren't big enough to be harvested just yet.



[I still have that wagon. it's in my attic.]


Lady Snowdon

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Re: Stop helping me! (Share your stories)
« Reply #272 on: March 17, 2014, 05:32:16 PM »
One of my coworkers tried to "help me out" (her words) today, and I'm so angry you can practically see steam coming out of my ears over it!

I'd talked to her a few times about issues with the boss - issues that she'd had as well.  She said that it had been going on for years, and nobody was really willing to do anything about it.  Between the commute (half hour on a good day, multiple hours on a backed up day) and some of what's happened to me, I told her I might have to start looking for a new job.  Never said I'd applied, never said it was gonna be soon, just "might have to start looking".

Today, coworker has a meeting with big boss.  She texted me at the end of the day that she'd told big boss I was looking for another job, and that I should really go talk to big boss because that way I'll be "protected" from boss.  I tell her that I'm not happy with her for doing that.  She replied, "I wasn't going to lie to the woman".  It's still not her business or information to share!  She's making me look bad, right before my 90 day probationary period is finished, and doesn't understand why I'm not happy that the big boss was told I'm looking! That's not help, that's career suicide.

whatsanenigma

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Re: Stop helping me! (Share your stories)
« Reply #273 on: March 17, 2014, 05:35:12 PM »
Today, coworker has a meeting with big boss.  She texted me at the end of the day that she'd told big boss I was looking for another job, and that I should really go talk to big boss because that way I'll be "protected" from boss.  I tell her that I'm not happy with her for doing that.  She replied, "I wasn't going to lie to the woman".  It's still not her business or information to share!  She's making me look bad, right before my 90 day probationary period is finished, and doesn't understand why I'm not happy that the big boss was told I'm looking! That's not help, that's career suicide.

I really really hope that big boss has the sense to not take her seriously.  Because how seriously could you take somebody who just randomly tells you that some other random person is looking for a new job? That's just a messed up thing to do.  Even if you were looking for a new job and you did need the help of big boss.

squeakers

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Re: Stop helping me! (Share your stories)
« Reply #274 on: March 17, 2014, 05:45:36 PM »
Yes. Using an ice scraper on the body of the car scratched it. My poor dad. He was horrified when he came out and saw what I was doing.

Again, I was young and didn't know better. But boy, did I think I was being helpful.

I think a lot of cold climate kids have done this.  I know I did (grew up where snow started early october and finished late may).  I've also stopped a neighbour's kid from going at it.

My boys did it.  It had been a terrible ice storm so no school, no work.  DH and I were sleeping in.  DH woke up and wondered what that odd rhythmic sound was.

Yeah, the boys were removing the ice from the cars using hammers.  Luckily we drive used cars so a few dings didn't really hurt them.

And it has become a Family Story that gets brought up every ice storm.
"I feel sarcasm is the lowest form of wit." "It is so low, in fact, that Miss Manners feels sure you would not want to resort to it yourself, even in your own defense. We do not believe in retaliatory rudeness." Judith Martin

JustEstelle

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Re: Stop helping me! (Share your stories)
« Reply #275 on: March 17, 2014, 10:21:07 PM »
I just realized that I have a little kid helper story of my own.  I think I was about four years old when this happened - I know that I hadn't started school yet.  For some gift-giving occasion, someone had given me a set of child-sized garden tools - shovel, hoe, and rake - that really could be used for gardening.  My older brother - then about 15-ish - was given the chore of hoeing weeds in our vegetable garden.  Being a stubborn teen, DB insisted that it would only be fair if they made me help him.  I don't remember if my parents made me or I just thought it would be fun to work with DB, but I grabbed my hoe and went out to the garden with him.  He showed me what to chop and what to leave and set to work.  Well, being a somewhat flighty little kid, I soon grew bored and began darting around all over the garden, digging little holes.  DB saw me and called out, "What do you think you're doing?"  I yelled back in a shrill little-girl voice that carried all over the neighborhood, "WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M DOING?!  I'M DIGGING KITTY-CAT POTTIES!!!!!!!!"  I guess I thought that I'd save Snowball the trouble of digging when she needed to go and give her several ready-made sites to choose from.  Needless to say, I never after that had to go "help" DB with a chore he'd been assigned.   ;D

Asharah

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Re: Stop helping me! (Share your stories)
« Reply #276 on: March 18, 2014, 09:45:42 AM »
If she were a member, my Mom would have a story to post here about 5 year old me.

I wanted to help Mom in the garden. Walking carefully between the rows, I carefully pulled up all the carrots and put them in my little red wagon. Said carrots really weren't big enough to be harvested just yet.



[I still have that wagon. it's in my attic.]
Come on, haven't you heard of baby carrots?  ;D
Asharah

VorFemme

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Re: Stop helping me! (Share your stories)
« Reply #277 on: March 18, 2014, 11:21:36 AM »
I was five(?) and "helping" set the table at Grandma's.  I got tired of taking one glass in each hand from the counter to the table, so I decided to be a BIG girl and grab two in each hand.

Three broken glasses, I stepped on some, and badly cut a toe that got me taken to the ER by Mom because it would NOT stop bleeding (I still have the scar fifty plus years later), and we got to eat hours later when we got back from the ER.

She did get a good story about how I'd holler, they'd ask if I felt it, I'd say "no", but then go back to hollering because they were sticking a needle in me!  Shots or sutures - I only like playing with needles when I'm stabbing fabric...or possibly draining something that might end up on the Gross Out thread.  I still don't like other people sticking sharp things in ME!
« Last Edit: March 18, 2014, 06:48:48 PM by VorFemme »
Let sleeping dragons be.......morning breath......need I explain?

Piratelvr1121

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Re: Stop helping me! (Share your stories)
« Reply #278 on: March 18, 2014, 11:51:19 AM »
I remember being mad because about 2 weeks prior to prom I still didn't have a date and said "Ah well, I'll just go by myself!"  Nope. I had to have a date.  Not a friend or group, an actual date.  Which surely she knew there was no way I'd get with that short notice.  I think she thought she was "saving me" from the embarrassment of not being able to get a date. 

And in all truth I probably did a fine job embarrassing myself in the following two weeks by trying to ask any boy I had an acquaintance with.  ::) :-[

By the way, this was '97 and plenty of my girl friends were going alone or as a group but since prom was 2 weeks out they'd already made their arrangements for transportation and such so I couldn't even ask if I could be included in with them.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars.  You have a right to be here. Be cheerful, strive to be happy. -Desiderata

FauxFoodist

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Re: Stop helping me! (Share your stories)
« Reply #279 on: March 18, 2014, 02:37:26 PM »
DH likes to have things a certain way and, early in our relationship just assumed I did, too.  He would do things like put together my lunch for work but pour a bunch of sauce all over the rice then mix everything up (the rice soaks up all the sauce in a matter of minutes and I never stir up my food so it's all combined).  I had to explain to him that I don't like my food that way.

DH and I were both attending a discussion group for which we were given handouts.  He lost his so asked to borrow mine.  These handouts were printed with a tearoff edge in case you want to separate the pages.  I never did.  DH, for some reason, liked to tear off the edge then staple everything back together.  Fine, that's for his handout.  He started to do that to mine, and I had a little cow and told him to figure out how to fix it (he hadn't torn it off completely so he taped it back together).  It makes no sense to me to tear off what's connecting the pages only to turn around and staple them back together again...IMMEDIATELY.  I had to have a little chat with him about assuming that just because he like things a certain way doesn't mean I want them that way, too.

DH had been helping me with a bunch of my things, and I told him not to donate anything without me checking through the boxes first to make sure he didn't donate something I wanted.  Guess what he did???  Yup, he came home and said, "There were a bunch of boxes that had such-and-such containers so I just donated everything."  I was pretty livid and said, "What did I say?  I have no idea what's in those boxes which is why I said not to donate ANYTHING without me having a chance to go through them."  He offered to go back to Goodwill and see if he could retrieve my stuff.  I took him up on it.  Fortunately for him (and me), the workers had not yet had a chance to go through the boxes so the contents were intact.  Sure enough, there were several things in those boxes I wanted to keep, and I pointed this out to him.

DH (again, poor DH!) accompanies me on mystery shops when they are for the movies or restaurants (my whole point of doing them is for us to see a movie or go out to eat for free or at a huge discount).  DH is a h-u-u-u-uge talker; he has a lot of difficulty keeping silent anywhere other than religious venues.  DH loves to talk to anyone and everyone under the sun wherever we are.  I've had to tell DH on more than one occasion that he needs to let me handle any questions from the employees at these places because I am assessing them.  He still screws things up (one time, we actually had to leave because he just put into action that which I wasn't supposed to do during the shop).  I told DH just a few days ago, that, from now on, I would just make sure to remind him before each shop that all questions from the employees need to be answered by ME (because he just won't remember and he feels he's "helping" by "being friendly" <-- he's not helping or being friendly if he's single-handedly invalidating my shop and risking my ability to get paid for it).

20+ years ago, *I* was the unwanted help.  I was 18 years old and, for some reason, thought that the proper thing to do when someone was ailing in the hospital was to show your support to that person and that person's family by visiting everyday...so I did.  My coworker (who I really only knew at work and had never met her family until she went into the hospital) had been in a pretty bad car accident (she ended up dying).  I thought it my duty to visit everyday and sit with the family (the hospital was a few blocks from where we worked).  I really didn't want to visit more than the once but felt that I should.  One day (after I'd visited for the 3rd or 4th day in a row), my assistant manager came up to me and said that the family felt they were getting too many outside visitors and requested no one visit anymore.  I was relieved and stopped (like I said -- I felt a sense of duty but really hated going).  <sigh>  I have absolutely no idea what my logic process was here, and I feel bad for intruding on this tough time for that family (my coworker was only 19 years old and got hurt as a result of another coworker's brother being drunk and crashing the vehicle they were all in into a tree; everyone else walked away unscathed -- she, from what I was told, was lying down in the back seat with her head near the side of the vehicle that collided with the tree).

rose red

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Re: Stop helping me! (Share your stories)
« Reply #280 on: March 18, 2014, 02:54:49 PM »
DH likes to have things a certain way and, early in our relationship just assumed I did, too.  He would do things like put together my lunch for work but pour a bunch of sauce all over the rice then mix everything up (the rice soaks up all the sauce in a matter of minutes and I never stir up my food so it's all combined).  I had to explain to him that I don't like my food that way.

That reminds me of a story of a friend.  One time, we were at her parents house and they had food on the counter and we were to help ourselves.  My friend insist on "helping" me by serving me.  She gave me a huge serving of a side dish I hated, but no potatoes which I love.  Because she was on a low-carb diet at the time, it just never occurred to her that I would eat any different from her.  She's sweet but can have tunnel vision.  I couldn't say anything because I was a guest at her parents home and I only met them a few times at that point.  It's a different story these days ;).

CakeEater

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Re: Stop helping me! (Share your stories)
« Reply #281 on: March 18, 2014, 07:27:35 PM »
PIL just left after an unscheduled 3 day visit. Not a problem, except MIL insists on helping by making meals. Little meals. Meals that will feed her and FIL and our two young kids, but not really enough for DH and I. So I have to try and supplement them by adding extra vegetables, adding bread to a meal we wouldn't ususally eat it with etc. Just let me cook our meals!

And I just opened my recipe book drawer and found two casserole dishes sitting on top of all the books. Who looks for a place to put away casserole dishes, opens a drawer, finds only a pile of recipe books, and thinks, 'Ah, here's the perfect spot!'?

FauxFoodist

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Re: Stop helping me! (Share your stories)
« Reply #282 on: March 18, 2014, 09:38:36 PM »
...

As for "Stop helping me" when DH and I are tidying he will pick up something that is mine (a peace of paper for eg) and try and hand it to me. doesn't matter what I am doing, he wants me to take it from him.

'Why of course I will take that important document that must be dealt with "right this second" while I am elbow deep in dish water."

Ha ha -- DH does this to me; in fact, he does it all the time.  I've learned to just tell him to set whatever it is aside.

Usually, in the morning, I am running late as I head out the door so I need to get out the door quickly.  DH will think he's helping by standing in front of the door then making me stand there and wait while he unlocks the door and opens it for me.  I've learned to ask DH to stand to the side of the door that doesn't swing open so he's not in my way.  Actually, DH has learned just to stay out of my way as I'm barreling through the hallway to get out the door.

DH really means well, he does.  However, he would be the poster child for so many of these situations where, essentially, he "means well" but messes things up instead (and doesn't understand why saying he's sorry and that he meant well doesn't automatically equal acceptance of his apology).

Yvaine

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Re: Stop helping me! (Share your stories)
« Reply #283 on: March 18, 2014, 09:42:03 PM »
...

As for "Stop helping me" when DH and I are tidying he will pick up something that is mine (a peace of paper for eg) and try and hand it to me. doesn't matter what I am doing, he wants me to take it from him.

'Why of course I will take that important document that must be dealt with "right this second" while I am elbow deep in dish water."

Ha ha -- DH does this to me; in fact, he does it all the time.  I've learned to just tell him to set whatever it is aside.


This is both every SO I've ever had and all my siblings when we were kids. "Where do you want this piece of paper? this paper clip? this dust bunny?" I always end up saying "Just start a box/pile of Yvaine's Stuff and I'll go through it later.

Cherry91

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Re: Stop helping me! (Share your stories)
« Reply #284 on: March 19, 2014, 05:48:50 AM »
Yes. Using an ice scraper on the body of the car scratched it. My poor dad. He was horrified when he came out and saw what I was doing.

Again, I was young and didn't know better. But boy, did I think I was being helpful.

I think a lot of cold climate kids have done this.  I know I did (grew up where snow started early october and finished late may).  I've also stopped a neighbour's kid from going at it.

My boys did it.  It had been a terrible ice storm so no school, no work.  DH and I were sleeping in.  DH woke up and wondered what that odd rhythmic sound was.

Yeah, the boys were removing the ice from the cars using hammers.  Luckily we drive used cars so a few dings didn't really hurt them.

And it has become a Family Story that gets brought up every ice storm.

My mother used to use the (cold!) kettle when she poured water on her car to thaw the windows because it was biggest than any of our jugs. When I was younger, I made the association that since she was using the kettle, the water inside must be hot, so as I was in the kitchen one day just before we got ready to leave, I turned the kettle on to boil. Fortunately it was pretty obvious what had happened, and she explained to me why putting boiling hot water on a freezing cold pane of glass was a bad idea, especially as I was usually already inside the car when she did this!
All will be well, and all manner of things will be well.