(In Australia, before you get a full driver’s licence, you spend a couple of years on a provisional licence. I’ve had mine for a month or two. My dad has said I’ve finally become useful. I’m at home and have just gotten a string of texts from him that don’t make sense. I call him.)

Me: “So, why do I have to come to the city?”

Dad: “Mum’s pissed.”

Me: “What? I haven’t done anything!”

Dad: “No! She’s ‘pissed’.”

(At this point my brother walks in, so I put the phone on speaker.)

Dad: “She had her office Christmas party today, and she’s drunk.”

Me: “Oh. Pissed!” *laughing*

Brother: *between giggles* “You thought you were in trouble!”

(I had to catch a bus into town to drive her home.)