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    No Fever, No Problem

    | USA | Sons & Daughters, Zombies

    (I’m a high school student. I just got woken up by my alarm to get ready for school. However, I feel way too sick to do so.)

    Me: “Mom, I don’t want to go to school today.”

    Mom: “Honey, you have to go to school. No exceptions.”

    Me: “I feel too sick.”

    Mom: “Are you, now? Are you running a fever?”

    Me: “I feel like death. Please don’t make me go to school today.”

    Mom: “Let’s see.” *she takes my temperature* “See? Only 70F. You don’t have a fever unless it’s over 100F. You’re perfectly fine.”

    Me: “No, I really don’t want to.”

    Mom: “Are you worried about how you look? Your acne isn’t that bad. Your skin appears a bit grey, and is falling off in places, but nobody will notice. Go take a shower.”

    Me: “It hurts too much to move. My arms and legs are sore.”

    Mom: “Well, you’re literally skin and bone. You really should exercise more. Go take a shower and I’ll make you breakfast. What would you like?”

    Me: “Brains.”

    Salad Is Good For Your Braaaaaaaain

    | USA | Teenagers, Zombies

    (My teenage son is a notoriously fussy eater. He has just got home from school and I have made dinner.)

    Me: “Eat the salad.”

    Son: “No. it’s gross. I don’t like vegetables.”

    Husband: “Your mother made dinner. You should eat it.”

    Me: “It has meat in it.”

    Son: “But they’re touching the vegetables, gross. Anyway, I’m not feeling too well. I think I’ll just go to bed.”

    (He takes an uncharacteristically early night, and I do the dishes, before my husband and I settle down in front of the TV. Every channel is alarmingly indicating that the zombie apocalypse has started. I am about to go warn my son, when I see him shuffling down the stairs, with a dead look in his eyes.)

    Me: “[Son]?”

    (He merely grunts, wanders over to the salad, sniffs out the meat, and starts eating it. My husband walks slowly backwards and get a kitchen knife.)

    Me: “[Husband]! No, don’t!”

    Husband: “It’s hard to accept, I know, dear. But our son isn’t our son anymore.”

    Me: “Yes, I know, but at least wait a minute!”

    Husband: “Why!?”

    Me: “He’s finally eating my salad!”

    Not Even Undeath Do Them Part

    | USA | In-Laws, Zombies

    (The zombie apocalypse has started, and I am begrudgingly being driven by my wife in our van to collect her parents and take them somewhere safe. My best friend is in the van with us.)

    Me: “Typical. Zombie apocalypse starts and it’s yet another excuse to spend time with the in-laws.”

    Wife: “Be quiet! There are zombies on the road; I need to concentrate!”

    Me: “What if they’ve already been zombified? We’ll have wasted time and fuel!”

    Wife: “Shush! I already spoke to them on the phone. They know we’re coming.”

    (We finally get there, to see the house surrounded by zombies. We honk the horn, which distracts the zombies just enough for my father-in-law to dash outside and get in the van.)

    Father-In-Law: “Quick! Drive!”

    Wife: “What about mom!?”

    Father-In-Law: “There’s nothing we can do for your mother now.”

    (Suddenly we hear a gunshot. We all look to see my mother-in-law, wielding a shotgun, ploughing her way through the zombie horde. She looks furious. She makes it into the van and we start driving away.)

    Mother-In-Law: *to father-in-law* “Nice try, Harold.”

    (My father-in-law sulks, and turns his attention to my best friend.)

    Father-In-Law: “Are we going to go save your wife now?”

    Best Friend: *breaks down into tears* “My wife was killed by a zombie!”

    Father-In-Law: *mutters under his breath* “Lucky…”

    Accidental Obedience

    | Powell River, BC, Canada | Pets & Animals

    (My husband and I have adopted a shelter dog. She has some ‘issues.’ We are getting ready to go out.)

    Me: “[Dog], come! Sit!”

    (She actually does.)

    Me: “Good girl! You almost looked like you were obeying, instead of just accidentally sauntering in my direction.”

    More Truth Than She’ll Ever Know

    | Pueblo, CO, USA | Parents & Guardians

    (I am around 12 years old when my dad, in one of his normal drunken stupors, decides it is a good time to tell me about ‘the birds and the bees.’ Note: I am female.)

    Dad: “So, how are ya? Listening real close? This is prolly the most important thing I have ever tole ya. It’s ’bout the birds and the bees.” *there is a long pause where he gets a real solemn look on his face* “The birds’ll s*** on ya and the bees’ll sting… Now go outside and play!”

    Wish You Could Give Him The Other Finger

    | OH, USA | Parents & Guardians

    (For the past few days, I’ve been trying to get a hold of the hospital referral office to see why I have not been given anything about my referral two weeks after activating it. I finally get a representative on the phone when my dad walks in. He tries to talk to me, but I hold up a finger, which is my sign to ask for quiet since he is talking when the representative is.)

    Me: *hangs up*

    Dad: “You don’t give me the finger.”

    Me: “Dad, you were talking while the representative was.”

    Dad: “I don’t care; you don’t give me a finger to be quiet.”

    Me: “Dad, I can’t listen to two conversations at the same time.”

    Dad: “Because I was telling you not to let her hang up.”

    Me: “And I didn’t. Remember, I told her to hold on when I asked you what you wanted me to ask.”

    Dad: “Yes, you did, but you shouldn’t have given me the finger!”

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