(My sister has come down with the flu, and is acting pretty sad and childlike.)
Sister: “I wanna hang out with you, but I don’t wanna get you sick!”
Me: “[Sister], again, by this point, I would have already gotten sick. Just don’t cough on me.”
Sister: “Well, I was planning to cough on EVERYTHING YOU LOVE, but okay.”
(My stepbrother has just gotten married. My sister and I, along with our respective boyfriends, are in the airport waiting for our flights back home. I haven’t slept well the night before, and am now barely conscious, so I’m napping on one of the airport couches. My sister is chatting with her boyfriend when I feel the need to interject.)
Me: *rudely* “Bleeeeeekh!”
Sister’s Boyfriend: “Hey, she makes weird noises, too. You really ARE sisters!”
(I am transgender, female-to-male. I have already transitioned at my high school several months ago, and have recently come out to my extremely religious and homo/transphobic parents. My younger siblings, however, are extremely supportive, since they all like me reasonably well already, and my parents haven’t had time to tell them how evil transgendered people are yet. I’m trying to explain the situation to them in a way that doesn’t step on my parents’ toes too much, but also is the truth, since I never lie to my younger siblings about anything.)
Me: “It’s actually pretty simple. I’m just a boy, that’s all. I feel like a boy, and I’m more comfortable being a boy and having other people talk to me like I’m a boy. I just don’t have a body that looks like most boys’ bodies.”
Sister: “I bet Mom hates that though.”
Me: “Well, yeah, but—”
Sister: “That’s because Mom doesn’t believe in fairy tales. Well, she believes in the fake ones that are all sweet and airy-fairy, but not the ones that are…” *she puts her hands up in a monster pose* “DARK and REAL!”
Me: “That is the best way to say it, ever.”
(That is exactly the way that I’ve thought of the differences between my parents and me ever since!)
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(My family goes to a restaurant that labels itself as Asian cuisine. We step inside the restaurant and are greeted by the only worker out front, and a completely empty restaurant. He hands us some menus and I thank him kindly while we look it over.)
Older Sister: *snotty tone* “I don’t eat Asian food.”
Me: “What do you mean you don’t eat Asian food?”
Older Sister: “I don’t eat Asian food. I have NEVER eaten Asian food! I DON’T EAT ASIAN FOOD!”
(I am thoroughly mortified, as the man who gave us the menus is giving us looks between annoyance and bewilderment as my sister loudly proclaims she has never eaten Asian food. She huffs and shakes her head and crosses her arms whenever we try to get her to be quieter and just look at the menu.)
Me: “That’s enough! Please will you just look at the menu and see if you might find something you’ll like?
Older Sister: *scoffs* “Whatever, I know I won’t find anything I like!” *finally looking at the menu* “Ooh! General Tso’s! I LOVE General Tso’s chicken! I’ll have that!”
Me: “How can you say things like that? You love Chinese food! I know for a fact you’ve eaten plenty of Chinese food!”
Older Sister: “I’ve never heard of ‘Asian Cuisine;’ I thought it was some weird crap! They should have put that they have Chinese food too!”
Me: “You do know China is a part of Asia right?”
Older Sister: “No! I didn’t know that! I thought China was an island!”