AITA for kicking a mom and her toddler out of my DnD session after chaos broke out in my home?
I hosted a DnD session and agreed to include a friend-of-a-friend who’s a mom — but she brought her toddler without warning, chaos erupted, and I eventually told her to leave. Now I’m being blasted on social media as “controlling” and “discriminatory.”
A few months ago, I (28F) started a new DnD campaign and invited a small friend group. My friend “Sarah” asked if her friend “Anne” could join — a mom who rarely gets adult time. I agreed, knowing she might be flaky because of childcare. I only asked that she make it to the first few sessions so she could learn the game. Instead, she canceled every proposed first session for two months, usually last minute. I told her she needed to make the next one or she couldn’t commit to a long campaign. She apologized and said she’d be there. She showed up — but brought her toddler without telling me first.
I expected a calm campaign session — instead I got a toddler making a mess, grabbing game pieces, chasing my dog, and a screaming match that ended with me kicking them out.
As soon as she arrived, her toddler needed the bathroom and made a mess. I calmly asked her to clean it, and she seemed offended. At the table, her kid ran around grabbing at mini figurines and dice — choking hazards — and nearly spilled drinks everywhere. When he knocked over a glass, I loudly asked her to take him outside so I could make the space safe. She did, embarrassed, and I reset the table with only basic pens, papers, and cups.
"We bickered while her kid was grabbing at choking hazards, and after he knocked over a glass I asked her to step outside so I could make the table safe."
Things calmed down until my dog came out to drink water. I told everyone beforehand: ignore the dog. But the toddler shouted “DOGGY!” and Anne put him down so he could “say hi.” He sprinted at my dog screaming with grabbing hands. I stepped in front to block him; he hit me, fell, and cried. Anne started screaming at me, I yelled back, and I told her to get out of my home immediately. Sarah was annoyed because the drive took them over an hour, but she left with Anne. The rest stayed, awkward at first, but we salvaged the night.
"I told her to get the f out after she screamed at me for stopping her kid from grabbing my dog."
The next day I woke up to local Facebook groups and Instagram stories saying I’m controlling, discriminatory, and that I “have a dangerous dog.” Sarah isn’t speaking to me, and apparently people are painting me as the villain despite the chaos that happened in my home.
🏠 The Aftermath
Anne and Sarah left early, and now Sarah won’t talk to me. The rest of the group stayed and eventually had fun, but the fallout has been intense. Local Facebook and Instagram circles are calling me names, accusing me of discrimination, and spreading rumors about my dog being “dangerous.”
At Anne’s end: she’s embarrassed and clearly furious. At Sarah’s: she’s cut contact despite years of friendship. At mine: I’m confused, stressed, and suddenly the public villain for enforcing boundaries in my own home.
Consequences include social media backlash, fractured friendships, and uncertainty about how welcome Anne will be in any future group setting — especially since the chaos disrupted the entire session.
"I asked for a calm game night — instead I’m being painted as a monster because I enforced basic boundaries in my own house."
The night left me shaken. I never expected to be screamed at, accused online, and ghosted by a close friend over something that unfolded because someone brought a toddler into an unsafe environment without warning.
💭 Emotional Reflection
This wasn’t just a messy game night — it was a clash of expectations. You planned a DnD session for adults, with delicate game pieces and a dog that needs calm surroundings. Anne assumed bringing her toddler was fine, and when chaos followed, emotions ran high on all sides.
Could communication have been better? Absolutely. But the responsibility to ask before bringing a child — especially one who’s curious, fast, and easily overwhelmed — falls on the parent. You tried to redirect, protect your dog, and maintain a safe environment for everyone.
People may disagree on tone, but the core issue is boundaries. Enforcing them in your own home doesn’t make you controlling. It makes you a host trying to prevent accidents and keep everyone — kid, dog, and adults — safe.
Here’s how the community might see it:
“She brought a toddler to a DnD session without asking — that alone is enough to cause chaos. You were right to stick to boundaries.”
“Your house, your rules. If her kid is knocking things over and chasing the dog, it’s on her to manage him, not on you to childproof everything.”
“The social media smear campaign says more about them than about you. They’re embarrassed and projecting.”
Most people would likely agree that the situation escalated because boundaries weren’t respected, not because you were harsh or discriminatory.
🌱 Final Thoughts
Hosting a game night shouldn’t require childproofing your home or defending your dog. You reacted in a stressful moment, but you also enforced reasonable rules in your own space. Anyone can empathize with the chaos of parenting, but that doesn’t obligate you to turn your living room into a playground.
If friendships fall apart because you expect basic respect for your home, your dog, and your time, that’s a sign of misaligned boundaries — not poor character. You deserve a peaceful table and a drama-free campaign.
What do you think?
Would you have let it slide, or asked her to leave too? Share your thoughts below 👇




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