(My husband has been watching videos on how to pack small and efficiently for traveling, especially overseas. After watching several videos of guys doing the packing he decides to watch a video by a girl.)

Husband: “I’m gonna see how a chick packs. Because, you know, chicks do that sort of thing.”

Me: *raises an eyebrow at him*

Husband: “You’re not a chick. Um, I mean, you’re not a normal chick.”

Me: *continues to stare at him as he puts his foot in his mouth*

Husband: “You’re… you. The most wonderful thing ever. You aren’t like other women.”

Me: *begin to smile as I think I know where he’s going with this*

Husband: “You know how to drive!”

(I guess I didn’t…)

(My boyfriend and I make phone calls daily. We are in our late teens and have a fair amount of maturity, but we are also huge nerds. One day he calls while I’m listening to ‘Reflection’ from ‘Mulan.’ Our conversation drifts toward strong female characters in books and movies.)

Me: “It’s kind of funny. Just before you called I was listening to music from Mulan, and she’s, like, the most bad-a** female character, in my opinion. She’s so small and dainty, and she was just trying to find a husband to fulfill her parents wishes, but then she’s like: ‘nope, I’m gonna go off to war.'”

Boyfriend: *trying to sound coy and romantic* “Well, honey, you’re a girl worth fighting for.”

Me: “Aww.”

Boyfriend: “But knowing you, you’d be in the thick of the fighting.”

Me: “…yeah.” *totally not thinking before I speak again* “Fear me! I have boobs and will take you down with a wooden stick!”

Boyfriend: *laughing uncontrollably for a good minute* “You have no idea how awesome you are, sweetheart.”

(My husband is a LAN administrator for a large telecommunications company. Both of our families know this and expect him to work on their computers with little or no notice. The phone rings at 2 am. We both jump, thinking a call at this time of night can only mean bad news. I get to the phone first. It’s my sister.)

Me: “What’s wrong?”

Sister: “Is [Husband] there?”

(I hand the phone to my husband.)

Husband: “Hello, [Sister]. What’s wrong?… No, I can’t come over right now. It’s 2 am… I’ll be over some time in the morning. Bye.” *hangs up*

Me: “What was that about?”

Husband: “She got a new printer and it won’t work. She wanted me to come over now and fix it.”

Me: “What did she say when you mentioned the time?”

Husband: “That she knew we would be up.”

(The next morning he drives to her place to look at the printer. When he gets home I ask him what the problem was.)

Husband: “Some people should be banned from having computers.”

Me: “Why?”

Husband: “The printer cable was plugged into the computer and then the other end was plugged into another socket next to it.”

Me: “Both ends were plugged into the computer?”

Husband: “Yeah. She couldn’t work out why it wouldn’t work.”

(My niece is a toddler and has just been diagnosed with a peanut allergy. It’s her birthday party and even though my sister specifically warned everyone about the allergy, her in-laws still brought peanuts to eat.)

Sister: *to her father-in-law* “Please do not eat those anywhere near [Niece]. Do not go near her with them.”

Father-In-Law: “Yeah, I won’t.”

(A bit later from across the yard, she sees him grabbing a handful of peanuts, shoving them in his mouth to eat. My niece toddles by.)

Father-In-Law: *grabs niece* “Give Grandpa a kiss.”

Sister: *screams* “STOP!”

(Her husband is closer and is able to grab my niece out of the father-in-law’s hands.)

Husband: “What are you doing!? Are you trying to kill [Niece]!”

Father-In-Law:  “I just wanted a kiss.”

Husband: “You’ve got a mouth full of peanuts, bits on your lips, and full peanuts in your f****** beard. [Sister] told you she was allergic to peanuts. You could have f****** killed her!”

Father-In-Law:  “I thought she was joking!”

This story is part of our Food Allergies roundup!

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(Our local art gallery was showing a special viewing of the classic movie musical “Gigi”. My mother, who loves musicals and adores that movie, decided to take 14-year-old me. The art gallery’s theatre wasn’t a typical movie theatre, and the copy of the movie was in Cinemascope, for which the theatre did not have the right screen. As soon as it started, we knew there was a problem: Maurice Chevalier looked like he was about two feet tall. My mother and I left when we realized that the gallery wasn’t going to fix the mistake.)

Mum: “We’d like a refund, please.”

Ticket Taker: “Why?”

Mum: “There’s a problem with the movie. All the actors look two feet tall!”

Ticket Taker: “Um … I’ll have to call my manager.”

Manager: “What’s the problem?”

(Mum explains.)

Manager: “We can’t give you a refund for that. Are you sure that’s even what you saw?”

Mum: “Just wait. There will be more people out here in a minute looking for refunds. Better get ready.”

Manager: *scoffs*

(Less than five minutes later, the foyer was full of angry, disappointed movie buffs all demanding refunds.)