The Grandma Is Not Always Right

| Germany | Grandparents

(My mom told me about this story a while ago. When I was younger, I tended to do stuff my grandma didn’t approve of, mostly not wearing “enough” clothes. She said that’s why my brother and I were sick so often, despite us being sick maybe once every couple of years.)

Grandma: “Why doesn’t [My Name] come over anymore?”

Mom: “Well, because you keep nagging her.”

Grandma: “But I’m right!”

Mom: “Do you want to be right, or do you want your granddaughter?”

(Grandma stopped nagging that much, and I came to visit her more often after that. But mostly I just love knowing that my mom has, and will always have, my back, even against her own mother.)

This Kids Gone Bananas

| USA | Children, Sons & Daughters

(My three-year-old son is trying to ‘saw’ a banana off the hand of the bananas on the table.)

Me: “What are you doing?”

Son: “Trying to eat a banana.”

Me: “But didn’t you have breakfast? What did you have?”

Son: “I did. And I’m full. I had pancakes.”

Me: “So what do you need the bananas for?”

Son: “Just for a finishing touch!”

Sharing That Nugget Of Information In The Morning

| VA, USA | Siblings

(This incident occurred a couple nights ago. It should be noted that I share a room with my sister. It’s around 1:00 am. I am sleeping peacefully when:)

Sister: “Where’s my chicken nugget?”

(I blink, thinking I might still be dreaming.)

Me: “What, [Sister]?”

Sister: *very upset by now* “Where is my nugget? [My Name]! Help me find the nugget!”

Me: “Your… chicken… nugget?”

Sister: “YES! My chicken nugget! Where is it? You have to help me find it!” *she sees me trying not to laugh* “[MY NAME]! HELP ME FIND THE NUGGET!”

(She starts thrashing and kicking the blankets. I decide to go wake up our dad.)

Sister: “WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!”

Me: “I’m getting you another chicken nugget.”

(My dad comes into our room.)

Dad: “[Sister], what’s wrong?”

Sister: “I need my chicken nugget.”

Dad: “Okay, we’ll get you some in the morn—”

Sister: “NO!” *rolls over in a huff*

Me: *after our dad leaves* “You’re going to find this really funny in the morning.”

Sister: “NO, I’M NOT!”

(At some point the next day, she texted me, ‘did i really wake you up last night looking for a chicken nugget?’ Turned out, she really thought she’d fallen asleep holding a chicken nugget and that it was lost in her comforter. And yes, she found it hilarious the next day.)

Grandma Has You Covered… In Fried Chicken

| PA, USA | Grandparents

(We have just taken my grandmother out for lunch, where we all ate a large meal. We bring her home afterwards.)

Grandmother: “Are you hungry? I made some fried chicken earlier.”

Mom: “No, thanks, we’re all still pretty full from that lunch.”

Grandmother: “Take some with you. You can eat it as a snack on the way home.”

Me: “Grandmom, it’s a five-minute drive.”

Grandmother: “Well, just in case.”

(She wouldn’t let us leave without taking the “chicken snack” with us. The pieces added up to a whole chicken.)

Forever Chasing Cars

| USA | Children, Sons & Daughters

(My three-year-old son is playing with his cars and has them all over the floor.)

Me: “Okay, [Son], it’s time to put away all your cars.”

Son: “No! Never!”

Me: *sighing* “You know, that’s what we’re supposed to do when we’re done playing.”

(My son then starts visibly deteriorating into meltdown mode, and the howling begins.)

Son: “Well, I’m NOT going to put them away! I still want to play with them, and I want them all over the floor!”

(The ranting begins, resulting in:)

Son: “…and I don’t want anything for Christmas from you!”

(I am confused, but his rant isn’t over yet.)

Son: “You can take all of my cars and put them in the trash!”

(My daughter, his older sister, chimes in.)

Daughter: “Or mommy can put them in the box and send them all off.”

Me: *hopeful* “In that case, I’m just going to give you a box and you can dump them all in. Then I can throw it out.”

(My son stops for an analytical pause.)

Son: *accusatory* “No! That’s CLEANING UP!”

(My tactics are busted.)

Me: “Well… then, here’s a trash bag; you can dump everything in.”

Son: *calmly* “Thank you.”

(Say what?! My son eventually put everything away in their proper boxes, and in their proper places, all on his own.)

Son: *politely* “If you put these in the trash, I’ll really appreciate it.”

(My mental processes have just been badly messed up!)