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    Category: Teenagers

    You’re Gonna Be In Pictures

    | UT, USA | Siblings, Teenagers

    (I’m looking up information for my husband about a charter school he attended and later worked at. My younger sister also attended the school. Their website shows pictures of past graduations and award ceremonies. My sister happens to be in one of the pictures, so I text her to let her know.)

    Me: “You’re in a picture on [School]‘s website.”

    Sister: What?!”

    Me: “From your graduation.”


    One Ambition

    | CA, USA | Cousins, Teenagers

    (I am eight years older than my youngest cousin. I have always adored this kid from day one; she never failed to make me laugh. I’m always amazed every year at how much she’s grown. Fast forward to her being 16 years old. She absolutely loves the band ‘One Direction.’)

    Cousin: “I want to marry One Direction.”

    Me: “You mean one of the guys from the band, right?”

    Cousin: “No, I mean the whole band. Instead of sister-wives, they can be brother-husbands.”

    (I spent most of the next two days laughing. She may not be a funny baby anymore, but she’s still definitely hilarious!)

    A Giant Surprise

    | Toronto, ON, Canada | Cousins, Parents & Guardians, Teenagers

    (I am three years old. At this point in my life, all of my relatives whom I have met are about 5’7″ or under. We have just arrived in town on a red-eye flight, and are staying at my aunt’s house. It is early morning, and I’ve just woken up.)

    Me: “Mommy! I’m hungry!”

    Mom: *sleepily* “Well, go to the kitchen. Your cousin should be there and he can fix you something.”

    (I go to the kitchen, and see the fridge door open, and someone bent over looking in.)

    Me: “Hi!”

    (My 14-year-old cousin, whom I have never met before, slowly straightens up to his full height of 6’4″. I stare at him, and then run away, crying.)

    Mom: “What? What’s going on? Did you go to the kitchen?”

    Me: *tearfully* “Yes!”

    Mom: “Well, why didn’t you ask [Cousin] for breakfast?”

    Me: “Mommy, I couldn’t! There was a GIANT in there!”

    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)

    Smells Like Teenage Spirit

    | Oklahoma City, OK, USA | Sons & Daughters, Teenagers

    (I was born with anosmia, which means I can’t smell anything. It’s a blessing at times, but also a major hindrance. So, to compensate, you learn to adjust how you handle situations and to trust others to be your canary.)

    Me: “Son, you need to go take a shower.”

    Son: “Why?”

    Me: “Because you stink.”

    Son: “How do you know? You can’t smell anything.”

    Me: “Because of several things. First, you are a thirteen-year-old boy, which is reason enough right there according to your mother. Second, your last shower was 25 hours ago, well beyond any deodorant’s power. Third, you had track practice this afternoon. You stink. Go take a shower.”

    Son: “Ugh… fine.”

    Me: “As a reminder: since you’ve caught on to my checking the wetness of the towel and the state that you’ve left the bathroom in, I will double check that you really have taken a shower by having your mom smell you. If you don’t pass, you will have to shower again.”

    Son: “It just isn’t fair.”

    Me: “No, it isn’t. Your mother doesn’t like smelling you and gets on to me for not getting on to you about showering, as if I can tell if you stink or not.”

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