(I have been reading fluently since the age of four. My regular preschool teacher knows this. One day we have a substitute.)

Substitute: “All right, boys and girls. Now we’re going to draw! Go ahead and draw whatever you want to. I’ll come around and write down on your paper what you drew!”

(The substitute works her way around the room and finally gets to me.)

Substitute: “[My Name], what did you draw?”

Me: “It’s Mommy, and Daddy, and [My Name], and [Dog’s Name], going to dinner at [local restaurant]. Write that, please!”
(The substitute begins to write “My family goes to dinner” on the page.)

Me: “NOOOOOO! I said ‘Mommy, and Daddy, and [My Name], and [Dog’s Name], going to dinner at [local restaurant]’! That says ‘My family goes to dinner’!”

(The substitute stares at me for a second. Then she writes down what I had said, word for word.)

Me: “THANK you.”

(The substitute hurries out of the room but forgets to close the door. Moments later, floating in from the hallway, my whole class can hear her.)

Substitute: “Why didn’t somebody tell me one of them could read?!”

(We are discussing language and politeness in class.)
Lecturer: “Okay. Say if your lecturer had given you their fish to look after, and you accidentally killed it. How would you tell them?”

Student: “Why has the lecturer given me their fish? Isn’t that breaking the politeness/respect barrier in the first place?”

Lecturer: “Well, maybe it was for an experiment or something.”

Me: “I’m a linguistics student, not a scientist!”

Student #2: “Linguistics is a science!”

Student #1: “What kind of linguistic experiments am I running with goldfish, anyway?”

Lecturer: “Can we get back to the point? How would you tell your lecturer you’d accidentally killed their goldfish?”

Student #1: “Sorry. It turns out that taking a goldfish out of water doesn’t give it the ability to speak language. But at least we know now!”

(My school holds writing tutorials in a very large room. People are often doing different things depending on where they’re sitting. My friend and I sit down for the writing tutorial where they’re normally held. Teacher #1 is there. She knows me very well.)

Teacher #1: “Okay, so we have [Student #1], [Student #2], [Student #3], and… Oh, [My Name]! Good to see you.”

(I smile politely, although I think it’s a bit strange that she greeted us individually.)

Teacher #1: “As you know, we welcome all students, whether or not they’ve worked on yearbooks before…”

(My friend and I exchange glances and realise we’re in the wrong place. We stay there awkwardly for a few moments, not wanting to interrupt the teacher.)

Teacher #2: *across the room* “Everyone who’s here for the writing tutorial, it’s over here.”

(My friend and I get up to leave.)

Teacher #1: “[My Name], you’re not joining yearbook club?”
Me: “Uh… No. Sorry?”

Teacher #1: “Noooooo! I had such high hopes!”

(My brother’s kindergarten class is learning about lumberjacks.)

My Brother: “I know a good song about lumberjacks!”

Teacher: “Okay. Would you like to sing it?”

My Brother: “I’m a lumberjack and I’m okay—”

Teacher: *blushing furiously* “Not that one!”

(That warranted a very interesting parent-teacher conference!)

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(My friend’s son has gotten in trouble for swearing.)

Friend: “What did you say?”

Son: “No! Can’t say that.”

Friend: “Okay. What letter did it start with?”

Son: “It was the g-word!”

Friend: “The g-word? Spell it.”

Son: “G-O-B!”

Friend: “Is that really all you said? The punishment seems a bit harsh.”

Son: “Yeah. I only told the teacher to ‘shut her f****** gob’ and I got in trouble!”