Time To Essay The Situation

| Staten Island, NY, USA | Children, Popular, Sons & Daughters

(I am picking my two sons from school, aged six and eight. My eight-year-old comes out strutting like a peacock. I have to know what’s up with all the annoying swagger.)

Eight-Year-Old: *proudly* “I just said ‘NO’ to two girls without hurting their feelings.”

Me: “You said ‘NO’ to what?!”

Eight-Year-Old: “One girl said she should be my girlfriend; another girl said she should be my girlfriend. They argued, so I said, ‘Write me a 300-word essay why you should be my girlfriend. Best essay wins.’”

Me: “You could’ve just said, ‘No, thanks. I’m only eight. Ask me again when I’m thirty!’”

Eight-Year-Old: “Can’t say that. I have manners now.”

(I think, “since when did this punk acquire good manners?”)

Me: “What if one girl writes a great essay? Or both of them?”

Eight-Year-Old: “They’re only eight. They can’t even write a fifty-word essay. See what I mean?”

Me: “No, I’m not seeing anything.”

Eight-Year-Old: “I didn’t actually reject them. Can’t write the essay, can’t be my girlfriend. They hate themselves because they can’t write the essay, but they don’t hate me.”

Me: “Why do you care if they hate you?”

Eight-Year-Old: “Because angry girls are crazy and scary.”

Six-Year-Old: *breaking his silence* “You should see yourself when you’re angry, Momzilla!”

Me: “What planet are you guys from?”

Eight-Year-Old: “From Planet Uterus!”

Six-Year-Old: “We came out of your own loins!”

Me: “Oh. My. God.”


That’s One Stinky Flower

| Portland, OR, USA | Popular, Sons & Daughters

(I am walking my children to school. This was a conversation between me and my 10-year-old daughter.)

Daughter: “This flower looks like Baby Soft Bottom!”

Me: “Uh… I don’t think that’s a flower. I don’t know what baby’s bottom YOU’RE looking at, but this flower is neon pink and that baby needs some diaper rash cream.”

Daughter: “No, it’s Baby Soft Bottom. [Friend]’s mom said it’s Baby Soft Bottom… I don’t think I’m saying it right.”

Me: “You mean Baby’s Breath?”

Daughter: “YES!”

Me: “…”


A Higher Grade Of Grandparent

| TX, USA | Grandparents, Popular

(My grandfather is picking me up from school. I am really upset because I had made a ‘B’ on a quiz and this was the lowest grade I have ever had. My grandfather always tries to cheer people up but he isn’t a very funny guy; he tends to scare people.)

Grandfather: “Are you okay?”

Me: “Yeah, I’m fine. I just got a ‘B’ on a quiz and I’m not too happy about it.”

Grandfather: “Are you serious? I never made a ‘B’ in my life.”

Me: “I will try to bring it—”

Grandfather: “—I never made an ‘A’ either.”

(That made my day a lot better.)


Literally Losing Your Identity

| Miami, FL, USA | Parents & Guardians, Popular

(A student has been told to come to the office. Afraid she is being accused of something, she calls her mother to come with her.)

Mom: “I want to know why my daughter was told to come to the office. She has done nothing wrong and I am here so you can’t blame her for something she didn’t do.”

Counselor: “I just wanted to give her this folder she left in a classroom last night. It has her birth certificate, her social security card, and her driver’s license. Leaving it in an open classroom gives someone a perfect chance to steal her identity.”

Mom: *to girl* “Wait until I get you home. You were right; you are in trouble.”

Can’t Hear The Irony

| Burlington, ON, Canada | Grandparents, Theme Of The Month

(My music class and another older music class put on a school Christmas concert, led by my music teacher. My mother and grandmother, who is hard of hearing, come to watch. Afterward, my mother tells me something that happened during the concert.)

Music Teacher: *to the audience* “The next performance will be, ‘Do You Hear What I Hear?'”

Grammy: *to my mother* “What? What did he say?”

Mom: *loudly* “He said, ‘DO YOU HEAR WHAT I HEAR?'”

(They and the many audience members who heard them started laughing.)

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