My friend Felicia has a son who is learning to speak. One day, I am at Felicia’s house for a grill out. Her son is going around offering up his sippy cup to “bump cup” with everyone else. Another friend is sitting beside me when the toddler comes up to him.

Toddler: “Hey. Hey. Bump cup?”

Friend: “What?”

Me: “He wants you to bump cups with him.”

I point to his beer bottle.

Friend: “Ohhh. Cheers, little man!”

They bump cups.

Toddler: “Cheers!” *Laughs*

Friend: *Laughs* “Yeah, cheers!”

Toddler: “Cheers! Cheers! Cheers!” *Pumping his cup in the air*

Felicia: *Rolling her eyes* “Now he’ll go to preschool and try to cheers with everyone.”

Toddler: “Cheers!”

Friend: “I didn’t think he’d repeat me.”

Felicia: “He’s a parrot.”

Friend: “Oh, yeah? Hey, [Toddler], come here.”

[Toddler] goes to [Friend], who whispers something in his ear. [Toddler] then goes to Felicia and bumps her with his cup.

Felicia: “Hey! What are you doing?”

Toddler: “Bye, Felicia!”

He runs away giggling.

Felicia: *Dramatic sigh* “Now he’s not going to stop saying that for weeks!”

[Friend] sits back and sips his beer.

Friend: “I know.”

I have a friend who is… strange, to say the least. He is FIERCELY pro-gay rights and yet is simultaneously one of the most homophobic people I’ve ever met. Don’t ask me to explain his logic, because I can’t. It’s worth noting that neither of us is gay.

I invite him to go with me on a trip to London, which requires an early morning departure; our flight is at 6:30 am or something like that. To soften the pain of waking up early, I decide that we’ll go to the airport the night before and check ourselves into the airport hotel, literally a three-minute walk from departures.

We arrive at the hotel and check in, and on entering our room, we discover that the reception has put us in a double room instead of a twin. I say nothing, but my friend starts THIS conversation.

Friend: “It’s a double bed.”

Me: “Yes, it is. Reception must have messed up.”

Friend: “So, can we talk to them? It’s a double bed!”

I phone reception, who realise their error and apologise, saying that they can’t do anything about it as they are fully booked. They give us a complimentary dinner in the hotel as an apology. I thank them, tell them we manage with a double bed, and hang up.

My friend emerges from the bathroom as I’m hanging up the phone.

Friend: “Well?”

Me: “They’re fully booked.”

Friend: “So what do we do? It’s a double bed.”

Me: “We’ll have to manage.”

My friend looks genuinely terrified at the prospect of having to share a DOUBLE BED with a male friend.

Friend: “But…”

Me: “But what?”

Friend: “…”

Me: “Oh, come on, mate. It’s one night. What are you afraid of? Sharing a bed with your male friend isn’t going to turn you gay, you know!”

Friend: *Panicking* “Don’t say stuff like that!”

We went down to dinner and my friend seemed more nervous and on-edge than usual; he always was highly strung. Back in the room, I lay on the bed to watch TV while my friend sat awkwardly in a chair. When bedtime arrived, he squirmed as I climbed into my side of the bed, and then he rolled over and tried to get as far away from me as possible. He was being ridiculous.

We both ended up sleeping very well, and my friend survived his “ordeal” with no “damage” to his sexuality. We had a great time in London and arrived home safe and sound. To this day, I still feel his response to sharing a bed with me was an overreaction. Am I right?

While at university in the 1990s, I am flat-sharing with a couple of other chaps. I am studying in my room and can hear the sound of rhythmic chopping from the kitchen. The sound stops, shortly followed by a cry of pain. I dash to the kitchen with the thought that my flatmate has done himself a mischief with the knife. I arrived to see my flatmate with a weeping eye.

Me: “Are you okay?”

Flatmate: “I was cutting some chilis and rubbed my eye! F***, it hurts!”

Me: *Suppressing laughter* “You numpty. I’ve got some hayfever eye drops in the bathroom cabinet. They might take the sting out of it.”

A couple of minutes later, there is a scream from the bathroom. I make my way to the bathroom and knock on the door.

Flatmate: “F***, f***, f***…”

Me: “You all right in there, mate?”

Flatmate: *Pained* “No. I decided to use the toilet while I was in here…”

Me: “And you didn’t think to wash the chilis off your hands first?”

Flatmate: *Still pained* “No.”

Me: “I’ve heard milk is supposed to take the heat out of it. Shall I get you glass to dip into?”

His reply would have made a sailor blush. He eventually left the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, holding it away from his crotch. For the rest of the day, I couldn’t look at him without giggling.

I am playing cricket. One of my teammates is known as a jokester and also a bit of a dumba**. For those who don’t know the rules of cricket, a bowler gets an “over” of six deliveries, after which another bowler gets an over from the other end. The aforementioned teammate is currently bowling.

Teammate: *To the umpire* “How many?”

Umpire: “Three.”

Teammate: “Is that I’ve bowled three or there’s three to come?”

Me: “The problem with you is that when you say things like that, I can’t tell if you’re joking or dead serious.”

I take my elderly mother shopping at a bulk grocery store. We each take a cart, as we each shop for our own homes. At one point, we stop in front of an end cap while my mom goes to the restroom. I stand between the carts and start looking over my shopping list. A woman passes me without saying anything. She circles around and comes back, stopping on the other side of the aisle.

Woman: *Annoyed* “AHEM!”

Me: “I’m done shopping if—” *looks up* “Oh, sorry. I thought—”

Woman: “You’re in my way.”

She points at the display behind me. I give a fake laugh.

Me: “You meant, ‘Excuse me,’ right?”

Woman: “What?”

Me: “You meant to say, ‘Excuse me,’ right?”

We stare at each other, but she looks away first.

Woman: *Blushes* “Excuse me, please.”

Me: *Cheery* “Of course!”

I moved both carts out of the way, and the woman took what she was looking for and hurried away. My mother came out of the restroom and we went on shopping without further incident.