(My sister is home visiting from college, and is playing video games to relax. Suddenly, she hops up.)

Sister: “Oh crap! I have to finish my homework! Can I borrow your laptop for a second?”

Me: “Sure, go ahead.”

Sister: “It’ll literally take two seconds; I only have one question left.”

(My sister signs into the homework website on my laptop.)

Me: *reading* “Assign a name to the chemical using the picture given and the letters A through H.”

Sister: “Ugh, I don’t know this.”

(She smashes the keyboard.)

Sister: “Yeah, that looks right!”

Me: “Umm… You have to use the letters A through H, right?”

Sister: “Yeah?”

Me: “Check what you put.”

Sister: “Oh, God! I put an ‘S’ in there.”

Me: “Yeah.”

Sister: “Thank god I didn’t submit that. I’ll just delete the S; there we go!”

(She submits her homework. I am reading the completion time on her screen.)

Me: “Completion Time… 90 hours?!”

Sister: “Yep! Back to video games!”

(Scarily enough, my sister is passing the class.)

(I have only recently acquired my first car. I know next to nothing about auto-maintenance, but I know I should check my oil. My parents are lesbians.)

Me: “Hey, mom? How do I check the oil in my jeep?”

Stepmom: “What?!”

Mom: “You mean you don’t know how?”

Me: “No…”

Stepmom: “Didn’t they cover that in your driver’s-ed class?”

Me: “Not really.”

Mom: “How could you have been raised by lesbians and not know how to check your oil?”

(I’m speechless for a second, but then I start laughing.)

Me: “Search me!”

(My mom starts speaking to my stepmom.)

Mom: “Honey, I’m going to go fulfill a stereotype, and show our daughter how to take proper care of a car!”

(My dad is pouring himself a cup of tea.)

Dad: “Ah, s***.”

(I look over as he pours the water back into the kettle.)

Me: “You never actually turned the kettle on, did you?”

Me: “Dad!”

(There’s no answer.)

Me: *sigh* “Sis, can you get dad for me?”

Sister: “Why do I have to do it? Why can’t YOU do it?”

Me: “Because I’m keeping an eye on this massive spider back here.”

Sister: *bolts to get dad*

(I’m a computer addict, and severely arachnophobic. I’ve just encountered a cave full of spiders in a game I play, and can’t handle them myself. I head into the living room, where my mother is reading a book.)

Me: “Mooommy?”

(She is instantly suspicious.)

Mom: “…what?”

Me: “Will you kill the spiders in WarCraft for me?”

(I have to teach her how to play, but she does it!)