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    Category: Sons & Daughters

    Blowing Holes In Her Shipping

    | Toronto, ON, Canada | Parents & Guardians, Sons & Daughters, Teenagers

    (I am watching the latest ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ films in theatre with my best friend. Sitting in the row in front of us is a mother and daughter. As the movie plays, the following occurs.)

    Daughter: “Oh, my god! It’s Groves! I missed you, Theodore!”

    Mom: “That’s your favourite character, huh?”

    Daughter: “He’s so pretty!”


    Daughter: *squeals* “Gilette! I thought he was dead! This is awesome!”

    Mom: “Aren’t those the two pirates you write about, honey?”

    Daughter: “Oh, yeah, but they were Navy officers before.”

    (Still later.)

    Mom: “… I’ll buy the fact that they are close friends, but not as a romantic couple! Really rather unrealistic, wouldn’t you say?”

    Daughter: “Mom…”

    Mom: “I mean, you can’t just pair together two 18th century naval officers. There were laws against that sort of thing, wasn’t there?”

    Daughter: “Mom…”

    Mom: “And at any rate even if they were, they wouldn’t be so open as you make it out to be—”

    Daughter: “Mom! It’s just a movie! AND STOP BLOWING HOLES IN MY SHIP!”

    (I couldn’t help laughing out loud, drawing stares from around the packed house, and my best friend reached down and gave the daughter a high-five when they turned around to investigate. Fangirl: 1, Mom: 0)

    I Feel Like Chicken Tonight Every Night

    | Hobart, TAS, Australia | Children, Sons & Daughters, Spouses & Partners

    (I am in the car. I am popping into a shop to pick up some take-away dinner. My son is four years old.)

    Son: “Daddy’s going to buy so much chicken, isn’t he? Then he’s going to eat and eat and eat it all until his belly is just too big.”

    Wife: “Why do you say that?”

    Son: *with a knowing sigh* “Because that’s daddy and his chicken.”

    Wife: “Is your father taking you out of the house to buy chicken when I’m not there?”

    No Longer A Gut Feeling

    | Columbia, SC, USA | Children, Sons & Daughters

    Me: *calling downstairs* “Daddy?”

    Dad: *comes upstairs* “Yes?”

    Me: “… I’ve just been sick.”

    Dad: “In your stomach?”

    Me: “Well, not anymore.”

    Potty Mouth

    | Sacramento, CA, USA | Children, Sons & Daughters

    (I am around three years old. My younger sister, Melissa, whom we call Missy, has a poopy diaper, so I run to tell my mother in the living room, where she is currently entertaining guests.)

    Me: “Mommy, Missy has a s***ty diaper!”

    Mom: *embarrassed at my language* “Don’t you mean, ‘messy,’ honey?”

    Me: “Okay. ‘Messy’ has a s***ty diaper!”

    I See Dead People

    | NJ, USA | Children, Sons & Daughters, Themed Giveaway

    (My mother has told me that I would say this on multiple car rides in the same area when I am three or four years old.)

    Me: *points at a house* “Mommy, someone DIED there…”

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