(I’m chatting with my nine-year-old sister. I’m 15.)

Sister: “Where do babies come from?”

(I’ve just been learning about mitosis and meiosis at school, so I think I can probably baffle her with fancy words.)

Me: “Well, there’s a process called meiosis, where the genetic material from the mummy and daddy merge together to make a zygote—”

Sister: “Yes, but how do the daddy genes and the mummy genes actually join?”

Me: “I’m just explaining that! It uses enzymes to get inside the bit where the mummy genes are protected—”

Sister: “Yes, but how do the daddy genes get to the mummy genes in the first place?!”

Me: “They swim to the mummy genes.”

Sister: “But how do the daddy genes get inside the mummy?”

Me: “I… don’t know.”

Sister: “Oh, well. I’ll ask mum.”

Me: “… You do that.”

(My father gets a phone call from a young girl obviously making a prank call.)

Caller: “You got me pregnant!”

Dad: “Really now? Wow, that sounds impossible. I just had surgery and have been sterile for months. But if you want to talk about it more feel free to call again.”

(He hangs up the phone. Shortly after the phone rings again.)

Dad: *in a foreign accent* “Oh, my gracious! There is a problem with your computer!”

Caller: “What?!” *hangs up then calls again*

Dad: “Duffy’s tavern and massage bar. Would you like a beer or a massage?”

Caller: “Huh?” *hangs up*

(The caller the calls again, this time getting my mother.)

Mom: *impersonating a cop* “We have been informed that you have been harassing this number. We are tracing the call as you speak. Please inform your parents that the police will be there shortly to talk about harassment and press charges. Goodbye.”

(We never got a call from the girl again.)

(My 13-year-old brother likes to play on the Wii, and my nine-year-old sister likes to draw.)

Sister: “Give me something to draw!”

Brother: “What like?”

Sister: “Anything!”

Brother: “Er… draw my Mii!”

Sister: “You?”

Brother: “No, my Mii!”

Sister: “So, you?”

Brother: “No, my Mii, with two ‘I’s!”

Sister: “You have two eyes!”

Brother: “Oh, never mind…”

(My dad has just received a phone call from a telemarketer.)

Caller: “Do you require cavity wall insulation?”

Dad: “No, I don’t.”

Caller: “But wall cavities can make your house very cold and—”

Dad: “My walls don’t have cavities. I don’t need cavity wall insulation.”

Caller: “But…”

Dad: “I’ll tell you what. If I find any cavities in my walls, I promise I’ll fill them with gold and give you the leftovers.” *click*

(I stop at the grocery store on Thanksgiving morning to get the last few things for dinner.)

Clerk: “Is that it?”

Me: “Yes, thank you.”

Clerk: “Great. Happy Easter!”

Me: “Had enough of saying ‘Happy Thanksgiving,’ huh?”