(I have recently turned 19, and the drinking age in my country is 18. My family is out to eat and my mother is taking our drink orders.)
Mother: (to me) Coke?
Mother: You are NOT having bourbon.
Me: Why not?
Mother: Because you’re too young… Oh wait, you’re 18 aren’t you?
Me: ….19 now.
Mother: Okay, bourbon it is.
(After my grandmother’s funeral, the guests assemble at a nearby restaurant. Note that since my father passed away early, my brother and I are my grandmother’s only living relatives. My mum — her daughter-in-law — is also there with us. The guests are currently offering their condolences to my grandma’s partner, and after talking to him, a couple I don’t know personally notices us sitting next to him.)
Husband: *to me* “And you are… the grandchild, right?”
Me: “Yes, my brother and I are her grandchildren.”
Husband: *to my mum* “Are they your children?”
Mum: “They are.”
Wife: “So you are…?”
Mum: “I’m [Grandma]’s daughter-in-law.”
Wife: *turning to her husband* “The daughter-in-law and her children. All right, you don’t have to remember their names; we won’t see them again anyway.”
(Her tone implied that she expected us to drop out of my grandma’s partner’s life, too, since he isn’t a blood relative. Needless to say, we were appalled — and of course we will stay in contact with our “step-grandpa”!)
(I’m out to dinner with my four-year-old nephew and his parents. There’s live music tonight, a guy with a guitar, and he’s right next to our table, so when he finally takes a break we let the little guy go put the tip in his bucket. My nephew has a particular fixation/obsession, however…)
Me: “C’mon, little dude, give the man the money.”
His Dad: “And tell him you liked the music!”
Nephew: *walks over and puts the tip in, then just stands there*
Guitarist: “Thank you!”
Nephew: “I like vacuums!”
(Cue simultaneous triple-facepalm. Guess what my nephew dressed as for Halloween?)
(My sister and I don’t get along very well. She’s a born again Christian, and I’m agnostic. I try to avoid religion because of this, but she always brings it up every time we meet for lunch.)
Sister: “I tell you, [My Name], you better hurry up and get it right. You never know.”
Me: “Never know what?”
Sister: “Never know when you’re going to meet your maker.”
Sister: “I’m only saying this because you’re my sister and I want the best for you.” *looking around* “All these people are going straight to Hell when they die. Did you wanna be like that?”
Me: “Errrrrr… no?”
Sister: “Then you better start making some changes.”
(We continued eating dinner, with her dropping hints about converting to Christianity every few minutes and blathering on about how I’d better hurry up. It made me feel very uncomfortable, but I said I would so she’d be satisfied. A few months later, she got knocked up by her boyfriend, whom she’d met on the Internet a few weeks prior. At least she doesn’t blather on about religion anymore!)
(I am about six years old. My family and I are in a restaurant. It should be noted that we’re black. My older brother, who is seven, wears glasses. My brother says something that makes me angry.)
Me: “Don’t make me call you the N-word, [Brother]!”
(My mother is sitting directly across from me by my brother.)
Mom: “What is the N-word?”
(My mother looks visibly upset at this point.)
Me: “Uh… nothing, Mom. I don’t want to say it.”
Mom: “No, tell me! What is the N-word, [My Name]!”
Me: *whispers* “Nerd…”
(My mom gives a look of surprise and mouths ‘oh’ then blinks at me.)
Mom: “He’s not a nerd…”
(I thought I was going to get in trouble because at that age ‘nerd’ was basically a curse word to me. It took me a few years to actually figure out what my mother had expected me to say!)
(I am out to lunch with a of couple girlfriends for one’s birthday, and the birthday girl’s three year old daughter. While I don’t have or want any of my own, kids don’t really bother me.)
Me: *after about five minutes of the girl hanging on me, including standing in my lap to wave to the kitchen staff* “Okay, [Birthday Girl], you can have her back now.”
Birthday Girl: “Nuh-uh, she’s yours now! There’s no return policy!”
Other Friend: “Honey, there was a no return policy when she fell out of your vagina.”