When I was a kid, my parents, aunt, and uncle sent my cousins, my brothers, and me to church youth group every week. One night, my parents were too busy to get us there, so my aunt offered to drive us along with her kids and even get us all some dinner beforehand. Since we were short on time, we went through the drive-thru of a nearby fast food restaurant so we could quickly eat at the church before youth group started.

Like most young kids anticipating fast food, my cousins and brothers were rowdy. With six or seven kids (including me) crammed into one vehicle, you can imagine the noise. My aunt had to repeat herself a few times at the speaker until I got fed up and turned around in the passenger seat.

Me: “SHUT UP OR YOU DON’T EAT!”

The car went quiet, my aunt finished placing the order, and everyone got their food. My aunt even thanked me once we got to the church!

My two girls are polar opposites. The youngest is kind, easygoing, and content to let her sister decide how every game is played. By contrast, my oldest is a natural leader. She will take charge of a group of kids and is amazingly good at getting them to go along with her dictatorial decrees of how to play. Unfortunately, while I love her dearly, I have to admit that this also means she can be just a tad stubborn and refuses to admit that she can be wrong at times.

As most parents do, I end up placing my youngest daughter’s car seat on the driver’s side (left side, for you non-Americans), which means my eldest is assigned to the right seat.

When my girls were much younger, their uncle ended up staying with us for about a month, and he commandeered both girls as his full-time playmates, taking them out to parks and entertaining them. I admit that I was rather sorry to see my self-appointed live-in nanny leave when it was time for him to go.

Early during his visit, I was driving with him and the kids, and we were pointing out Christmas decorations we saw while driving. 

Me: “Look! There is a Santa on the right.”

Eldest: “Which way is right?”

Uncle: “We talked about this today. Which side do you sit on?”

Eldest: “Oh, I’m right!”

The girls oohed and ahhed at the decorations for a second. After we passed them, I spoke up again.

Me: “[Eldest], I love you knowing which way is right. I’m impressed.”

Uncle: “Want to tell her our mnemonic?”

Eldest: “What’s a ‘new mount tick’?”

Uncle: “How do you know which side is right?”

Eldest: *Excited enough to be practically screaming* “Because I’M ALWAYS RIGHT!”

I thought this was just my brother being silly with the girls as always, but from that point on, whenever there was a question of which side was which, their uncle would ask something along the lines of, “Do you think [Eldest] got her directions wrong?” and my eldest would scream that she was “ALWAYS RIGHT!” and suddenly remember her directions.

By the time my brother left, my daughter had her left and right quite firmly down. There could be no doubt of that fact since she was so eager to find any excuse to explain which way was which so she would have an excuse to declare, loudly, that she was “ALWAYS RIGHT!”

In fact, even her younger sister soon had a firm grasp of the concept by repeating the same mnemonic that her sibling was always right.

A little while later, I was on the phone with my brother.

Me: “I do appreciate you teaching them right from left, but couldn’t you have done it in a way that doesn’t have my daughter shouting that she is always right every day?”

Uncle: “Definitely not! I told you before she was even born that I was eager to be an uncle so I could come over and teach your kids bad habits, didn’t I?”

Me: “But I didn’t think you actually meant it!”

Uncle: “Well, that’s your fault, not mine, isn’t it? In fact, do you know why you should have known that I would do exactly what I promised?”

Me: “Why?”

Uncle: “Because… I’M ALWAYS RIGHT!”

CONTENT WARNING: Animal Neglect

My husband and I went away for a week. I agreed to pay my younger sister (age twenty-seven) $100 to drive fifteen minutes to my house once a day, make sure my two cats had food and water, and empty the collection bin on their automatic litter box. I checked in with her every day, and she assured me all was well.

When we came back, the cats had no food and no water, and their litter box was so full that it had stopped cleaning. But the $100 I’d left for [Sister] was gone. So, I called her. 

Me: “Uh, hey. What happened here? Did you not take care of my cats?”

Sister: “Well, [Her Husband] and I decided to go out of town, too.”

Me: “Okay… And the cats?”

Sister: “What about them?”

Me: “You were supposed to be taking care of them.”

Sister: “I did. I stopped by before we left.”

Me: “When were you here last?”

Sister: *Defensive* “I don’t know!”

Me: “What do you mean, you don’t know? I paid you to stop here every day. I want my money back.”

Sister: “Well, I would have, but we changed plans.”

Me: “And you should have told me that before, so I could arrange for someone to care for them. Are you f****** kidding me right now?”

Sister: “What? They’re fine. We came by the day after you left and did what you wanted. What’s the big deal?”

Me: “So, you came by for like fifteen minutes, took the $100, and that’s all you did?”

Sister: “They’re fine!”

I hung up. She tried calling back a few times, but I just kept picking up and hanging up so she couldn’t leave a voicemail. The cats are fine, overall, but my relationship with my sister is forever ruined.

My mom regularly video calls with my niece, my sister’s child, who is two years old. My mother also has four cats. Every time my sister initiates a call, my niece asks to see the cats. I overhear the most recent video call.

Mom: “Hi, [Niece], sweetie!”

Niece: “Kitty?”

Sister: *Exasperated* “Can you at least say hi to Grammie first?”

Niece: *Cheerily* “No, thank you, Grammie! Kitty, please!”

This is a story my mom tells about my older brother’s birth. My brother was born with a head full of thick black hair. After he was born, my grandmother would take him to give my mother a break or when she needed to be seen by nurses or doctors.

Once, while she was holding him in her arms out in the hall, someone walked by and noticed him.

Stranger: “Aww, what a cute puppy!”

I imagine that my grandmother must have laughed and told her the truth, and I hope she wasn’t too embarrassed! She gave my mom a great story to tell for years after.