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    Don’t Stop Until You Pop

    | San Antonio, TX, USA | Siblings

    (I have recently bought a small, two-kid maximum bouncy house for my daughter’s birthday. It has a maximum weight limit of 250 lbs. My brother is a large guy and is asking to borrow it.)

    Brother: “I have a date tomorrow night. Can I please borrow the bouncy house? I promise we won’t pop it!”

    Me: “If you don’t pop it, you’re not doing it right!”

    They Get Double Lives

    | CA, USA | Siblings, Theme Of The Month

    (My twin and I have a few stories up on this site, and we are reading them and giggling.)

    Sister: *laughing* “God, I love us so much!”

    (Suddenly she grabs me and stares at me intensely.)

    Sister: *serious voice* “You are not allowed to die.”

    Not Quite The Immaculate Concept

    | London, England, UK | Children, Sons & Daughters

    (I am aged around six. My school likes to mix the Nativity up with another theme, such as ‘Cops and Robbers’ or the Victorian era. This year they choose ‘Under the Sea.’ This happens the afternoon I get home after being told my part.)

    Me: *very excitedly* “Mummy! I’m an octopus testicle in the school play!”

    (My mum came very close to calling up the school, before I explained my role further and she made the deduction that I was in fact an octopus TENTACLE. My siblings are still reluctant to let me live this down.)

    No One Screws You Up Like Family

    | TN, USA | Parents & Guardians

    (I have just posted several Wikipedia and newspaper articles on Facebook explaining my family’s strange toes and phobias. We also have a genetic defect affecting our eye color.)

    Mom: “So, you got dad’s defective toes, and my phobias, and the defective eye color thing. I’m not sure you kids will be able live a normal life knowing that everything you thought was endearing about you is instead a genetic defect.”

    That One’s A Bad Egg

    | Wellington, New Zealand | Children, Sons & Daughters, Theme Of The Month

    (It’s April Fools’ Day. I’m seven years old.)

    Me: “Mummy, Mummy, I made up a joke! What kind of chicken doesn’t lay eggs?”

    Mum: “I don’t know, darling. What kind?”

    Me: *in a creepy voice* “A dead one.”

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