I remember going mental once when I was about 21 and had left a temp job. The assignment ended on the Friday, and then on Monday evening my mum rang me asking if I knew so-and-so. I recognised the name as a bloke I'd been friendly with at work but wasn't particularly close to and didn't know that well. Apparently, after I didn't turn up on the Monday, he'd looked up my details on the HR computer and found my mum's number as my emergency contact! (He wasn't even a manager, and it would be a gross abuse of power even if he had been). He asked her if I was OK as I hadn't come to work. I told her everything was fine and the assignment had just ended, and the agency would find me something else. She told me he'd given her his number to pass on to me, so naturally I rang him and gave him what for. His excuse was that he was worried I'd been sacked. I pointed out that I was an adult and that if I had been, I'd want my mum to hear it from me, not some busybody she'd never met! Also that my number was on the file, so why not ring me directly? Again, his excuse that it was cheaper to ring a landline and that he assumed I still lived at my mum's. I said "What, when she lives in Birmingham and I live in London? Pull the other one!" I told him to fuck off, and got a couple more weasly texts trying to justify himself but I ignored him and didn't hear from him again. But yeah, that's how it made me feel - like I was a naughty little girl and he was a teacher ringing my parent. Or worse, the class arsewipe tattling to her that I'd got detention for saying bugger. I've always detested being patronised like that, and never understand how some adults actually seem to enjoy it.