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Chill Time Every story brings a dilemma. Discover Redditโ€™s most debated situations and weigh in with your own take.

02/05/2025

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* full story๐Ÿ‘‡๐Ÿ’ฌ ๐Ÿ”ฅ
01/13/2025

* full story๐Ÿ‘‡๐Ÿ’ฌ ๐Ÿ”ฅ

* full story๐Ÿ‘‡๐Ÿ’ฌ ๐Ÿ’œ
01/13/2025

* full story๐Ÿ‘‡๐Ÿ’ฌ ๐Ÿ’œ

* full story๐Ÿ‘‡๐Ÿ’ฌ ๐ŸŽ‡
01/13/2025

* full story๐Ÿ‘‡๐Ÿ’ฌ ๐ŸŽ‡

Reddit Story ๐Ÿ˜Š
01/12/2025

Reddit Story ๐Ÿ˜Š

I BOUGHT AN OLD STROLLER AT FLEA MARKET & HEARD CRACKLING SOUND AS I PUT MY BABY IN IT"Ah, finally, sweetie, Dad got you...
12/08/2024

I BOUGHT AN OLD STROLLER AT FLEA MARKET & HEARD CRACKLING SOUND AS I PUT MY BABY IN IT

"Ah, finally, sweetie, Dad got you a new buggy. We'll go home, clean it, and then you can rest in it, alright?!" I told my daughter, feeling pretty proud of the $10 deal I'd snagged at the flea market. Little did I know I was about to uncover something unexpected.

After getting home, I dusted off the stroller a bit. It was clearly used but still in good shape. I decided to take Tiara for a walk, so I gently placed her in the stroller. That's when I heard it โ€” a strange crackling noise coming from under the padded seat.

"What's that noise?" I muttered to myself, quickly pulling Tiara out and placing her on the couch. Curious, I lifted the padding of the stroller, and that's when I saw it โ€” a small piece of folded paper tucked away.

"What is this?" I wondered aloud, unfolding the paper to reveal a handwritten note addressed to someone named "Gigi."๐Ÿ‘‡

MY HUSBAND ASKED ME TO BRING DINNER TO HIS SICK MOM โ€“ ON MY WAY THERE, MY LAWYER CALLED ME SHOUTING, "GO BACK NOW!"My MI...
12/08/2024

MY HUSBAND ASKED ME TO BRING DINNER TO HIS SICK MOM โ€“ ON MY WAY THERE, MY LAWYER CALLED ME SHOUTING, "GO BACK NOW!"

My MIL, Linda, had been sick for days. On Wednesday evening, my husband Matt and I were set to finalize a huge milestone: buying the house we'd rented for five years. But Matt pulled me aside, looking worried.

"Mom's not doing well," he said. "She hasn't eaten all day. You should bring her dinner."

I hesitated. "We have that meeting with the real estate agent soon," I reminded him. "Can't we send takeout?"

He frowned. "Takeout? She needs homemade comfort food. You know she loves your lasagna."

Torn between our plans and wanting to help his mom, I caved. Maybe this would mend things between Linda and me โ€” she's never really seen me as a part of the family.

I spent hours cooking the lasagna and, at 6 p.m., packed it up and drove to Linda's house, 40 minutes away. Halfway there, my phone buzzed. It was my lawyer, Sarah.

"Go back home. NOW. THEY'RE AT YOUR HOUSE," she shouted, her voice urgent. โฌ‡๏ธ

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Morgan Hill, CA
95138

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