A Mother’s Decision Carries Some Weight

| USA | Parents & Guardians

(We’re getting ready for a trip to the beach. The last trip we went on, my mom brought multiple heavy bags with her.)

Me: “Mom, I’m begging you, please travel light this time.”

(Since this is the third or fourth time I’ve asked her this, she’s getting a bit annoyed with it.)

Mom: “Look, I bring enough to be comfortable, and what are you complaining about? Who do you think has to carry all of this?”

Me: “I do, otherwise I wouldn’t be saying anything.”


The Love Be-teen Siblings

| USA | Siblings

(It is my brother’s 20th birthday; he, my mother, and I are sitting in the living room waiting for my sister to come home so we can all go celebrate. When she walks in, she hugs him, looks him dead in the eye and says:)

Sister: “Congratulations on beating teen pregnancy, [Brother].”


This Habit Is Getting Long In The Tooth

| Perth, WA, Australia | Parents & Guardians

(I live with my mum and she has a bad habit of walking into my room, starting a conversation, and then rearranging everything on my shelves whilst talking. Unfortunately, I seem to have picked up the habit as well. During late high school I end up in my mum’s bedroom for a question I no longer remember, but in doing so I browse the trinkets on her dresser. Near the end of our talk I came across a small decorative box that resembles a teddy bear tucked into bed, curiosity takes over and I open it.)

Me: “What the f***?”

Mum: “[My Name]! Langua— Oh, you found it…”

(It turned out, every time one of my three brothers or I lost a tooth, she kept it. Never would I have thought my small, innocent mother, would own a cute little box filled with still bloodied baby and wisdom teeth.)


Time For The Imagination To Kick The Bucket

| MO, USA | Children, Nephews & Nieces

(I’m watching my sister’s children for the weekend. We are eating supper when my six-year-old niece drops her napkin on the floor, so her older brother reaches down to grab it. As soon as he places it back in front of her, she begins to “cry.”)

Me: “[Niece], what’s wrong?”

Niece: *between sobs* “[Nephew]… knocked over… my bucket.”

(I look down at the floor but nothing is there.)

Me: “What bucket?”

Niece: “That one.” *points at nothing in particular* “It had… all… my… things… in it.”

Me: “Sweetie, I don’t see any bucket.”


(She lays her head on the table and begins to fake sob into the table. My nephew sighs and gets up from the table and pretends to pick up the bucket and places things back inside.)

Nephew: *deadpan* “I picked it all up for you. Sorry I knocked it over.”

(The “tears” suddenly stopped and she happily returned to eating her food. According to my nephew, she does things like this quite often, trying to get him into trouble.)


But That IS What It Means

| TX, USA | Siblings

(I’m with my sister, about to go shopping. I call shotgun and hop in the front seat. As she’s sitting in the back…)

Sister: “Why do they call it shotgun?”

Me: *sarcastically* “Because whoever rides shotgun is responsible for holding the gun.”

Sister: “Really?!”

Me: “Yeah, driver drives. Shotgun shoots people.”

Sister: ‘Oh… that makes sense.”

(She’s so gullible sometimes. It’s too easy.)