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    Say Lullabye-bye To Sleep

    | USA | Parents & Guardians

    (My family is staying at a motel one night during a cross-country road trip. My parents, and four kids [including me] aged 5-13 are all crammed into one room. My parents have declared lights out and bedtime since we have to be up early next morning to get back on the road, but the four of us are too antsy to fall asleep and keep joking and chatting back and forth.)

    Mom: *trying to get us to calm down* “All right, kids, I’ll sing you a lullaby to put you to sleep.”

    (Giggles from us.)

    Mom: *singing* “Go to sleeeeeep… little ones. It is dark in outer spaaaace.”

    (More hushed giggles.)

    Mom: “Go to sleep, my little ones. Or I will punch you in the face!”

    (We all burst out laughing. Naturally it took us a bit longer to fall asleep after that and her on-the-spot lullaby is still an inside joke among our family.)

    Correct Answer Fail

    | Lincoln City, OR, USA | Siblings

    (My mom, older brother, and I are staying at a hotel and playing a board game together.)

    Brother: “Roll, a**-jackal!”

    Me: “It’s your turn, idiot. You got the last answer right.”

    Brother: “Well, I’m not used to that!”

    Sadly Having The Time Of His Life

    | Long Island, NY, USA | Parents & Guardians, Spouses & Partners

    (My family (grandmother, parents, husband, six-month-old daughter, and I) are in New York for a family event. My husband goes in the far corner of the elevator with my daughter, and everyone else piles in. I’m in the middle of the elevator.)

    Husband: “Can I trade spots with you?”

    Me: “Why?”

    Husband: “I just want to trade spots with you.”

    Me: “Okay…”

    (My husband and I trade spots.)

    Husband: *in his ‘I’m speaking as [Daughter]’ voice* “That’s right, mommy. Nobody puts baby in the corner!”

    United We Fall

    | Lincoln City, OR, USA | Siblings

    (My mom, brother, and I are playing a board game. My brother reads me a question…)

    Brother: “What nation buys the most US exports?”

    Me: “United Nations!!”

    (Not my proudest moment. The answer was Japan.)

    Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

    | Singapore | Parents & Guardians, Sons & Daughters

    (My family is on vacation. I am 12 years old and I throw a tantrum so my dad makes me apologize.)

    Dad: “Hey! Say sorry.”

    Me: “Ma’af.”

    Dad: “What? Say sorry.”

    Me: “I did!”

    Dad: “No, you didn’t. Now say sorry.”

    Me: “Dui Bu Qi.”

    Mom: “Stop being naughty and say sorry.”

    Me: “I did! Twice!”

    Dad: “I don’t know what you said but that wasn’t sorry.”

    Me: “I said it in Malay and Chinese. Many people speak that here in Singapore.”

    Mom: “English is spoken here, too.”

    Dad: “Stop trying to be smart.”

    Me: “Fine. Sorry.”

    The Starch Truth

    | Pocano Mountains, PA, USA | Parents & Guardians, Siblings

    (We’re on vacation one summer with our mom, who is a professional chef and therefore takes cooking seriously. The hotel room comes with a full kitchen, so we’re deciding what to make for dinner.)

    Me: “Okay, so I’m making chicken fettuccine. What should I make to go with that?”

    Sister: “I want a baked potato!”

    Me: “Ooh, that sounds good! All right, so I’m making chicken fettuccine with baked potatoes.”

    Mom: “You can’t do that! They’re both starches!”

    Me: “So?”

    Mom: “So you can’t have two starches together in a meal!”

    Sister: “But I want a baked potato…”

    Me: “Yeah, mom. I don’t think anyone cares up here if we eat two starches.”

    Mom: “But you can’t have two starches! You have to have something else, like a vegetable!”

    Me: “Mom, I really don’t think the culinary police are going to drive all the way up to the mountains to fine us for having two starches with our meal. We’re on vacation, so I say if [Sister] and I want baked potatoes with our pasta, then d*** it, we’re going to have baked potatoes with our pasta!”

    (In the end she relented. Because my sister and I are jerks, we decided to also add French fries as a side just to annoy her. Our youngest sister left a ‘ticket’ on my mom’s pillow for having more than one starch at dinner, signed ‘The Culinary Police.’)

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