Defending your kids when they’re clearly wrong is just bad parenting.

This employee witnessed three troublesome teenagers wreck the store where he works. So the manager yelled at them to leave, which angered their combative mother.

Read below to learn what happened next.

“YALL DON’T YELL AT MA KIDS! THEY GOOD, YALL EVIL!”

A couple of days ago, I was pulling a double shift (9 a.m.–close), and it was serene — four or five customers, six associates in the store — just another Tuesday in retail.

We’re across the street from a mixed-income neighborhood, so a lot of our customers come from there. Lots of nice people, some non-English speakers, but people who are super nice and make the job fun.

Around 8:15 p.m., three teenage boys started to ride around the parking lot on their bikes. We didn’t think much of it — it’s a large parking lot, filled with many stores (such as Sprawl Mart).

We started picking up the carts from the parking lot as the three boys walked into the store, playing with the laptops and tablets, then the cameras.

Fine, whatever, we thought — we’re almost closed, so be it.

The manager yelled at the three destructive teens to get out.

Then they entered the small electronics department and started to knock things over — throwing down iPad cases on the floor, putting the music on loud, and cursing at each other, running around the television area and putting terrible things on the smart TVs.

They put websites with pornographic images, loud music — NOTE: We never blocked websites on the smart TVs, but now we do. We never thought this would happen.

My manager comes over and talks to them, but as he does, they start calling him names — “Old Man McGee” (our boss’s last name is McGee) — as well as attempting to push around the vacuums and knocking things over.

Our manager, a patient man who we never heard raise his voice, yelled:

“Learn some darn manners and get out!”

The boys laughed and gave up, and walked out of the store as we cleaned up the mess they left us (especially one in the furniture area, who peed on the recliners).

Then came their mother.

At close, as we were removing the recliners and marking “Defective Merchandise – Move to Atlanta” on each of them, a woman banged on our doors (they were locked) and screamed:

“Open your doors!”

My manager walked up to the door and pointed to his watch.

“We’re closed, ma’am. We’ll be open at 10 a.m. tomorrow for your shopping convenience.”

But then we saw those three boys as well, around her, banging on the doors. The manager opened the doors slowly, and as the woman tried to push herself in, our manager blocked her entrance.

The conversation went like this.

“Ma’am, we’re closed. And your boys left us a mess, so even if we were open, we wouldn’t let you in. One of your boys peed on the recliners, which is going to lose us money on each one. We have to order new ones and tell corporate what happened to each one.”

The mom kept pushing on the manager and the doors, then yelled:

“You all don’t yell at my kids! They’re good, you all are evil! They’re just expressing themselves! You all are evil and bad, and we will tell your managers!”

Our manager, in a smug voice, says:

“Sure ma’am, call corporate. But we have so much evidence against your boys.”

One boy kept screaming over us:

“I ain’t going back to juvie! No way! Ain’t going back to juvie! Mama, I ain’t going back!”

She came back the next morning.

The next morning, we opened up at 10 a.m., and who’s the first customer? Mama Crazy. The store was quiet, a lot of us had just pulled doubles, and so everyone was tired and just waiting for the day to end.

The same manager from the night before was there, and she walked up to him, huffing and puffing.

“Let me see those recliners. I don’t believe you. You all are trying to put my boys in juvie and they are all I have.”

My manager walked the woman to the warehouse, and we followed. He showed her the photos of what her boys had done, and then showed her the recliners, lined up, marked defective.

The store pressed charges.

“How do I know you didn’t pee on it? How do I know you didn’t stage this because you don’t like my kids? This is a witch hunt. My boys aren’t going to juvie! You all have no proof. I love my boys!”

Our manager walked her out, and as she left, he said:

“We are pressing charges, ma’am. We have every camera, every photo, and six associates who saw what happened. We’ll see you in court.”

As of today (Friday, 25 January), the police arrested the three boys. They pleaded not guilty, and we’re going to court.

Apparently, there’s a limit to kids’ self-expression.

Let’s read what people think to this.

Here’s a likely outcome.

This person makes a good point.

This user shares a common observation.

This one wants find out more.

And here’s a funny comment.

Moms always see their kids in the best light.

If you liked that post, check out this post about a woman who tracked down a contractor who tried to vanish without a trace.