People are frequently seen debating something or other on the internet these days.
Given that it essentially brought millions of people together in one location and allowed them to freely express their emotions, it was unavoidable. But they were always going to spark a heated argument, regardless of how diametrically opposed they were.
Even while contentious images and videos are becoming commonplace on the internet, it doesn’t mean it’s not worthwhile to check them out whenever they appear. Thus, when I saw a photo of a father and his dozing kid shot during a flight—one that, incidentally, has sparked a variety of comments—we had to share it.
The discussion started when Reddit user u/therra123 posted a wonderful photo of a father and daughter in the r/MadeMeSmile thread.
An image of a girl curled up on her aisle seat during a trip was submitted by the user. Her father had put his palm under her cheek, preventing her head from resting on the armrest, which is, I’m sure anyone who has used one, a quite harsh and coarse pillow.
“This man kept his hand in this position for 45 minutes so his daughter could sleep well,” says the Reddit caption that goes with the image.
We have to say at this point that, in our perspective, this appears to be no more than a father going about his business. Although the post was appropriately labeled “wholesome moments,” some Redditors disagreed.
Remarkably, the father’s activities drew criticism; some individuals wrote merely to point out that he could have done it more skillfully.
The widely shared post received approximately 60,000 likes and thousands of comments, with responses like these:
“It seems like… I believe there must be a better approach.
“Do you not have your towel?” said another. The most crucial item you can pack is a towel.
“Shows a distinct lack of creative problem solving,” said a third person. You claim that after 45 minutes, you were unable to come up with a workable answer. Hey!
A fourth person wrote, “Seriously. Fold up a sweatshirt, and presto! Instant-pillow. Here’s an absurd idea: request a blanket and pillow from a flight attendant.
Others, meanwhile, were more understanding of the father and his gesture. By coincidence, we also find ourselves in that category!
What about you, though? Was there anything improper, in your opinion, with the father using his kid as a makeshift pillow throughout this flight? Tell us in the comments below.
I Came Home from Vacation to Find a Huge Hole Dug in My Backyard – I Wanted to Call the Cops until I Saw What Was at the Bottom
When I cut short our vacation due to Karen falling ill, the last thing I expected was to find a massive hole in our backyard upon returning home. Initially alarmed, I hesitated when I spotted a shovel inside, leading me into an unexpected adventure involving buried treasure, newfound friendship, and lessons in life’s true values.
Karen and I rushed back from the beach early after she fell ill. Exhausted but wary, I decided to check the house’s perimeter before settling in. That’s when I stumbled upon the gaping pit in our lawn.
“What’s this?” I muttered, approaching cautiously.
At the bottom, amid scattered debris, lay a shovel. My first instinct was to call the police, but then I considered the possibility that the digger might return, knowing we were supposed to be away.
Turning to Karen, who looked unwell, I suggested keeping the car hidden in the garage to maintain the appearance of absence.
As night descended, I kept vigil by a window, watching and waiting. Just as I was about to give up, I spotted a shadow vaulting over our fence.
Heart pounding, I ventured out with my phone ready to call the authorities. Approaching the pit, I heard the clink of metal on earth.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, shining my phone’s light into the hole. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The figure looked up, squinting. My jaw dropped—it was George, the previous owner of our house.
“Frank?” he stammered, equally surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here, remember?” I retorted. “What are you doing in my yard in the middle of the night?”
George climbed out, looking sheepish. “I can explain. Just… please don’t involve the police.”
Arms folded, I demanded an explanation.
“My grandfather owned this place,” George began, “and I recently discovered he hid something valuable here. I thought I’d dig it up while you were away.”
“You broke into my yard to hunt for treasure?” I couldn’t believe it.
“I know how it sounds,” George pleaded, “but it’s true. Help me dig, and we’ll split whatever we find.”
Despite my better judgment, I agreed. Over hours of digging, we shared stories, George revealing his hardships—a lost job and his wife’s illness. His hope for this treasure to change their lives touched me.
As dawn approached, our optimism dwindled with each shovel of dirt revealing nothing but rocks and roots.
“I was so sure…” George’s disappointment was palpable.
Offering a ride home, we filled the pit and drove to his house, where his wife, Margaret, greeted us anxiously.
“George! Where have you been?” Margaret exclaimed, eyeing me curiously.
Explaining the situation, George’s dream of buried treasure was deflated by Margaret’s reality check.
“My grandfather’s tales were just that—stories,” she gently reminded him.
Apologizing, George and Margaret offered to repair our yard. I declined, suggesting they join us for dinner instead.
Driving home, I shared the night’s escapade with Karen, who teased me about my unusual night with a stranger. Reflecting on our conversation, I proposed inviting George and Margaret for dinner—an unexpected outcome from a night of digging for imaginary treasure.
As I assessed the yard in daylight, I realized life’s treasures aren’t always what we seek but the connections we forge along the way.
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