(My boyfriend and I are both vertically challenged, at 5’4″ and 5’0″ respectively.)

Boyfriend: “I love how you’re so little!”

Me: “Uh, thanks?”

Boyfriend: “No, I mean it. I love you. All 4’12” inches of you!”

Me: “I’m not 4’12”, I’m—wait, that’s 5’0″!”

(Construction workers are using a large machine to dig a hole in the road, but we don’t know why. It is very loud, and we’re all starting to get annoyed.)

Me: “Do we even know why they’re digging?”

My 10-Year-Old Sister: *dryly* “Because it’s fun, and they have a big machine.”

(My mom has just received a new DVR device, and has been watching the help channel.)

Mom: *pressing buttons* “Ha! Now I can figure out what you’ve been watching by pressing this button and seeing the last three channels you’ve been on!”

Me: “Oh man, Nickelodeon, Disney and Cartoon Network. Alert the authorities.”

(I have just purchased a pastry to-go. I leave the cafe and take a bite, only to find a large chunk of plastic inside, which nearly chips my tooth. I take it straight back and show the cashier.)

Me: “Hey, I bought this like a minute ago and uh, there’s a big bit of plastic in it…” *shows him*

Cashier: “Oh… okay.” *stares at me for several seconds*

Me: “Yeah…”

Cashier: *blank stare*

Me: “Yep…”

Cashier: “Yeah, it was probably from one of the plastic containers it came in.”

Me: “Oh-kayyyyyyy…”

Cashier: “Oh, did you want me to do something about it?!”

(I am waiting for a hair cut. Next in the queue is a boy that can’t be older than four or five.)

Little Boy: “I want you to cut my hair spicy!”

Hairdresser: “…’spicy?'”

Little Boy: “Yeah, spicy! Like, super spicy!”

Hairdresser: “…don’t you mean ‘spiky?'”

Little Boy: “That too!”