(My daughter and son are young, and we live in a house that has two very damp bedrooms. I find it best to put both kids in the third bedroom that doesn’t have a damp problem, as I am worried for their health; my eldest has asthma and the youngest has allergies. Some friends and I are discussing our houses. I mention the damp problem and what I have to do to stop the kids from getting sick.)

Friend: “You have a boy and girl sharing a room; that’s disgusting.”

Me: “What?”

Friend: “A boy and girl in the same room; it’s unnatural.”

Me: “What do you mean, ‘unnatural’?”

Friend: “What if they do something?”

Me: “Do what?”

Friend: “You know, do unnatural things together; it’s a temptation for them.”

Other Friend: “What the f***? They are three and six years old; what are they going to do?”

Friend: “It’s disgusting. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Me: “I don’t think so. I’m trying to keep both kids healthy until our lease is up and we can move.”

Friend: “It’s not right.”

(And with that, she walked off and never spoke to me again. Didn’t miss her one bit.)

(My friend’s brother travels a lot for work and has for years. Whenever he pops back into town, he tells us all about it and also gets to vent about the stresses of traveling. Usually my friend’s kid, at this point nine years old, plays in the adjacent room with her toys while the grownups talk over coffee. We assume she’s not interested in that kind of stuff until one random day, a commercial for a well-known sandwich chain comes on TV…)

Commercial: *what my friend’s kid hears* “You can get 30 euros for 90 dollars.”

Kid: *long-suffering sigh* “Those currency exchange rates just keep getting worse and worse.”

(Once our laughter died down enough for us to breathe again, we explained to her what “gyros” were.)

(For Mothers’ Day, the children are doing a craft for a woman in their lives: homemade body scrub. It is just sugar, cooking oil, and a little food colouring, in a glass jar with a bit of waxed paper and a ribbon. Of course, the intent is that the children will take them home and present them to a mum, nana, auntie, etc. At the end of church, I have virtually the same conversation with three or four of my son’s friends, ages four to six.)

Child: “Look what I made!”

Me: “Oh, wow! That’s so cool! What are you going to do with it?”

Child: “EAT IT!”

(I work as a lifeguard for a subdivision pool. It’s a quiet job and usually uneventful. To have access to the pool, the subdivision members pay a fee to their homeowners’ association. The association then issues the members keys which are scanned to unlock the front gate. The association has hired the company that I work for to supply lifeguards during pool hours. The lifeguards have no control over the workings of the keys and have been told strictly by our supervisors and the HOA that the lifeguards are not allowed to let anyone in if their card is not working. Usually members who cannot get in understand and go talk to the HOA, but not everyone is as polite. One woman and her small child, no older than five, come to the gate and, after struggling to open the gate, call me over. I can’t easily leave my post as the lifeguard, since I am the only person working, so I try to talk to her from my stand. My back is to her, so this is difficult.)

Woman: “Hey, can you open the gate for me? My brand-new card isn’t working.”

Me: “I am sorry, ma’am, I cannot. I have been told by my supervisor, the lifeguard company, and the subdivision HOA that I am not allowed to open the gate for anyone whose card is not working. You will have to talk to someone involved in the HOA about the faulty key.”

Woman: “Come on! I just got this card yesterday! It’s not my fault it isn’t working; just let me in!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I’m only allowed to watch and protect the pool area.”

Woman: “And what am I supposed to tell my daughter? I promised her we would go swimming today!”

(I look at the child, who seems uncomfortable with the temper tantrum her mother is throwing.)

Me: “I would tell her you can’t get in because the key isn’t working and that you are going to talk to the HOA to fix the problem.”

Woman: *talking to her child* “Let’s go, sweetie! WE CAN’T GO SWIMMING TODAY BECAUSE THIS B**** WON’T LET US IN!”

(She drives away, and I happily go sit at my stand with my back to the gate. About forty minutes later, I hear the gate unlock, and the same mother-daughter duo have come back. The woman lets out an uncomfortable laugh before saying:)

Woman: “So funny. I actually grabbed my old key from last summer instead of the new one I was issued.”

(I just sat there waiting for her to say something else, but no apology was ever given to me.)

(I’m explaining to a coworker during coffee break what my pet peeves are:)

Me: “My pet peeve is when in a movie there’s an airplane tumbling out of the sky, and a child turns to their father to ask, ‘Are we going to die?’ and the dad says, ‘NO, of course not!’ Of course we’re going to die! We’re all going to die! Maybe not today, but we’re all going to die!”

Coworker: *starting to smirk* “What makes you say that?”

Me: “Statistics. Literally many billions of people have lived on this earth, and none of them have grown much older than a hundred years. Everybody dies.”

Coworker: “Statistics, you say? Well… there are currently literally billions of people alive, including you and me, and literally none of them have ever died before… so…”