(In the week before starting school for the first time, I get a number of injuries. I fall off my bike, causing a terrible road-rash. I fall off a bike rack I was climbing on, giving me a black eye. Then, I somehow manage to fall UP the stairs, busting my lip open. A doctor’s appointment for a very stubborn wart turns out leaving me with a chemical burn on one arm. All of this is not unusual for me. Mom takes a good look at me in the morning before turning to my dad.)

Mom: “We’re totally getting social services called on us. Aren’t we?”

Dad: “Well, they know [Older Sister], so hopefully not. Call me if you need me. I can leave work if I have to.”

(When I get to school, the teacher gives me a worried look. Nothing seems to happen until Mom comes to get me at the end of the day. My teacher again looks worried when Mom comes over. I am currently playing tag with some of the other kids in full view of both of them.)

Teacher: “Ah, Mrs. [Last Name]. I’m afraid there’s been a little bit of an… incident involving your child.”

(Before the teacher can elaborate, I trip over nothing and faceplant. The road-rash on my arms starts bleeding again, but I just get up and keep playing.)

Mom: “That sort of incident?”

Teacher: *nods*

Mom: “Yeah. She does that. A lot.”

(I am in my second week at my job as a research assistant on campus. Already, I have the reputation of being sociable and talkative. One day I wake up with absolutely no voice. Since I have no other symptoms of being sick, I show up to work anyway.)

Boss: “Why is it so quiet in here?”

Coworker: “[My Name] lost her voice, so she’s not talking like she usually does.”

Boss: *dropping his voice down to a whisper* “Okay. I guess we’ll all speak softly, for your sake.”

Coworker: “[Boss], she can’t speak. Her hearing hasn’t changed!”

Boss: “Um… right. Well, we can… Let’s stick to email today, shall we?”

Coworker: “Seriously? How did you get your Ph.D.?”

Boss: “This is why I have you two as research assistants: so you can do the thinking for me!”

(Sometimes my roommate next door gets very loud when getting intimate. One morning after such an event, my boyfriend wakes me up a little early. He begins nudging me for sex.)

Me: “It’s so early. Why now?”

(My boyfriend just smiles, and points to the room next to ours.)

Boyfriend: “Revenge…”

(We have an essay due soon. Two of our teachers are explaining the importance of double-spacing the text.)

Teacher #1: “Imagine this: It’s Christmas Day, and we go to mark your essay.”

Teacher #2: “True story. We actually have to do that. You get holidays, we get essays!”

Teacher #1: “Exactly. So we go to mark your essay. The first thing that we see, when we look at the page, is that it isn’t double-spaced. That would ruin our entire Christmas!”

Teacher #2: “We would be an emotional wreck all day. We wouldn’t even be able to cook Christmas dinner for our families.”

Teacher #1: “And then we would have to content ourselves with a disgusting mince pie.”

Teacher #2: “And it would all be your fault!”

(Needless to say, we will all be double-spacing our essays from now on.)

(I’m playing a fantasy card game with my roommate late at night. My girlfriend has gone to bed in my room. It is rather late. It has been several hours since we’ve heard anything from my room, when we hear a strange noise.)

Me: *opening door* “Hey, sweetie. You okay in there?”

Girlfriend “WHOOOO WHOOOO!”

(I give my roommate a funny look, and then look back into the room.)

Me: “Uh… what?”

Girlfriend: “WHOOOO WHOOOO! I’M A TRAIN!”

Roommate: “Okay. That’s weird.”

Me: “Oh? Good… I’ve gotten so used to stuff like this, that I couldn’t decide if it was or not.”