A new disturbing scam that takes advantage of the generosity of strangers has emerged, and one mother, Nancy Walsh, is sharing a warning that could sаvе you from getting yourself into trouble.
Her urgent message reads: “If you see a stroller, car seat, or any type of baby situation alone in the middle of nowhere, please, I repeat, don’t get out. Be safe.”
Of course, when noticing any baby equipment on the side of a road, our initial reaction would be to get out of the car and make sure no baby or child is in trouble.
Walsh, an estate agent, encountered this potentially alarming scene that might raise concern for individuals traveling alone.
She posted photos of an аbаndоned stroller positioned on the side of a country road. Her car appeared to be the sole vehicle in the area, and her headlights illuminated the pram, which was oriented away from her direction of travel, making it impossible to determine if there was anything inside it.
The stroller was positioned on a grassy verge adjacent to the road, which was flanked by large trees on one side. This kind of scenario might be particularly unsettling due to the isolated setting and the mysteries associated with the аbаndоned stroller.
According to Walsh, and plenty of other social media users, this is a trap. “Never get out. Always call 911 and let local authorities investigate,” one person wrote. “Yes, people lie in wait. At best they rob you, at worst they bash you too,” another added. “Families are struggling, some of them will use kids as bait,” some else commented.
This alleged scam is done in order for a person to get out of their vehicle and leave it unattended while they check on the stroller. The scammers then steal the vehicle, rob the person, or even hurt him physically.
However, there were also those who commented under Walsh’s post and said that some people leave baby stuff at the side of the road because they are still usable and they don’t want to throw them as someone might find them useful.
But most of them agreed that the reason behind these аbаndоned strollers is sinister. “Someone may have put it on for when someone gets off [the road] to see what happens…,” a person wrote. Another agreed, adding: “It’s a bait trap. don’t get out. Pull over. STAY IN THE CAR. Lock the door. And call 911 FAST.”
Walsh’s warning isn’t the first one issued on the same matter.
“OMG – I would be out of the car so fast to check, thanks for the warning,” one mother commented. “This is so cruel because they are targeting the best of us,” another person who said they would certainly get out and check if there was a child in dаngеr added.
The ‘аbаndоned baby’ scam is a troubling part of a broader trend of deceptive practices aimed at exploiting the goodwill of kind-hearted individuals. Other similar scams involve a person feigns being passed out on the roadside while others wait in ambush to аttасk those who offer help.
Some people shаrеd their personal experiences with such scams. “I pulled over to help a man passed out on the side of the road once. The police officer yelled at me and said it is often a scam and as a single woman I should be more careful,” one social media user posted. “I have heard of women screaming for help only to do the same thing. Just call the cops and move on,” another person warned.
Walsh’s post gathered plenty of attention and has been shаrеd 23,000 times.
No matter the urge to provide help to those we believe are in some sort of trouble, we should always be extra cautious and make sure we don’t put our own lives at risk.
My 81-year-old grandma started posting selfies on Instagram with heavy filters.
The notification popped up on my phone, another Instagram post from Grandma Rose. I sighed, tapping on the icon. There she was, her face smoothed and airbrushed beyond recognition, a pair of oversized, cartoonish sunglasses perched on her nose. A cascade of digital sparkles rained down around her. The caption read, “Feeling my vibe! #OOTD #YOLO #GrandmaGoals.”
My stomach churned. At first, it had been a novelty, a quirky, endearing quirk of my 81-year-old grandmother. But now, weeks into her social media blitz, it was bordering on unbearable.
It had started innocently enough. She’d asked me to help her set up an Instagram account, intrigued by the photos I’d shown her of my travels and friends. I’d thought it was a sweet way for her to stay connected with the family, a digital scrapbook of sorts.
But Grandma Rose had taken to Instagram like a fish to water, or rather, like a teenager to a viral trend. She’d discovered the world of filters, the power of hashtags, and the allure of online validation. Suddenly, she was posting multiple times a day, each photo more heavily filtered than the last.
The captions were a whole other level of cringe. She’d pepper them with slang I barely understood, phrases like “slay,” “lit,” and “no cap.” She’d even started using emojis, a barrage of hearts, stars, and laughing faces that seemed to clash with her gentle, grandmotherly image.
The pinnacle of my mortification came when she asked me, with wide, earnest eyes, how to do a “get ready with me” video. “You know, darling,” she’d said, her voice brimming with excitement, “like those lovely young ladies on the internet. I want to show everyone my makeup routine!”
I’d choked on my coffee. My makeup routine consisted of moisturizer and a swipe of mascara. Grandma Rose’s “makeup routine” involved a dusting of powder and a dab of lipstick.
The worst part was, my entire family was egging her on. They’d shower her with likes and comments, calling her “amazing,” “inspiring,” and “a social media queen.” They were completely oblivious to my growing dread.
I was trapped in a vortex of secondhand embarrassment. What if my friends saw these posts? What if my coworkers stumbled upon her profile? I could already imagine the whispers, the snickers, the awkward attempts at polite conversation.
I found myself avoiding family gatherings, dreading the inevitable discussions about Grandma Rose’s latest post. I’d scroll through my feed, wincing at each new notification, my finger hovering over the “unfollow” button, a button I couldn’t bring myself to press.
One evening, I found myself sitting across from my mom, the glow of her phone illuminating her face as she scrolled through Grandma Rose’s profile. “Isn’t she just the cutest?” she gushed, showing me a photo of Grandma Rose with a digital halo and angel wings.
“Mom,” I said, my voice strained, “don’t you think this is… a little much?”
My mom looked at me, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean? She’s having fun. She’s expressing herself.”
“But it’s not her,” I argued. “It’s like she’s trying to be someone else.”
“She’s adapting, darling,” my mom said, her voice gentle. “She’s embracing technology. She’s living her best life.”
I knew I wasn’t going to win this argument. My family, in their well-meaning attempt to support Grandma Rose, were completely blind to the awkwardness of the situation.
I decided to try a different approach. The next time Grandma Rose asked me for help with her Instagram, I sat down with her and gently explained the concept of “authenticity.” I showed her photos of herself, unfiltered and unedited, her smile genuine, her eyes sparkling with wisdom.
“You’re beautiful just the way you are, Grandma,” I said, my voice sincere. “You don’t need filters or slang to be amazing.”
She looked at the photos, her eyes softening. “Do you really think so, darling?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
“Absolutely,” I said, squeezing her hand.
Grandma Rose didn’t stop posting, but she did tone it down. The filters became less intense, the captions more genuine. She even started sharing stories from her life, anecdotes that were both heartwarming and hilarious.
And slowly, I began to appreciate her online presence. I realized that it wasn’t about trying to be an influencer; it was about Grandma Rose finding her own way to connect with the world, to express her joy, to simply be herself. And in the end, that was more than enough.
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