(I am eating lunch alone at a bakery/deli. A mother and her two sons, the youngest being about six years old, decide to sit next to me. The youngest one is being sassy about everything, and I’m trying really hard not to laugh.)

Mom: “You should try my pasta; I think you’ll really like it.”

Six-Year-Old Son: “Mmmm… no.”

Mom: “But it’s got all kinds of things you like. Fettuccine, cheese, basil—”

Six-Year-Old Son: “Basil? What the heck is basil?”

Mom: “I put it in tons of stuff. You like it; just try it.”

Six-Year-Old Son: “No.”

Mom: “I think you should. I might try to make this at home.”

Six-Year-Old Son: “No, you won’t.”

Mom: “Come on, try it. I promise you’ll like it.”

Six-Year-Old Son: “Well, mother, you also promised I’d like beets, and look where that got us.”

(As a surprise for me, my Dad got me tickets to Star Wars in Concert, where a live orchestra plays music from the movies, narrated live by the guy who played C-3PO. I’m in the second row, and in utter heaven. My mother, the person who made me watch all three movies in one day when I was 13, and is a professional musician, is sitting next to me. During one section, they play the ‘Luke and Leia’ theme from ‘Return of the Jedi’. She turns to me in horror.)

Mom: “When did we find out that they’re siblings?!”

Me: “1983, mom.”

Mom: “I swear that wasn’t in the movies before. Was that in the Special Editions?!”

(The ‘Lord of The Rings: Return of The King’ has just come out to theaters. My stepmom and I are big fans, so we see it together. After the film ends, we start to leave. A huge line has accumulated for the next screening. My stepmom, seeing this, smiles mischievously.)

Stepmom: *in a loud voice* “I can’t believe they killed Frodo!”

(The line erupts into hushed conversation at this fake tidbit.)

Me: “Mama!”

Stepmom: “What? They’re gonna see it anyway.”

Me: “Oh… good point!”

(I am seven years old, and there’s been a blizzard, so school is out for a week. My dad has taken my brother and me to the local sledding hill.)

Me: “Daddy! Can you push me down the hill?”

Stranger: “Would you like me to give you a push?”

Me: “No, you’re a stranger. I want my daddy to push me!”

Dad: “It’s okay, sweetie; he can give you a push. He’s the county sheriff!”

Stranger: “You’ve taught her well!”