(My parents are redesigning their kitchen. My boyfriend and I come over after work so we can all go out to dinner together. When I come home, my Mom presents me with a selection of door handles to give my opinion on.)

Me: *pointing to the two I like best* “I like this one and this one.” *pointing to the one I hate, and knowing that my Mom is a neat freak* “You shouldn’t get this one because the little ridges will never get clean.”

(10 minutes later my boyfriend walks in, and my Mom asks him for his opinion as well.)

Boyfriend: *pointing to the same two I first did* “I like this one and this one.” *pointing to the same one I hated* “You shouldn’t get this one because the little ridges will never get clean.”

Mom: “… Yeah… That was weird.”

(My father, fresh out of a divorce, has recently married another woman after only knowing her for a few months. Needless to say, my little sister and I are in shock. We’re discussing the whole thing at the kitchen table.)

Me: “It’s pretty obvious that she married him for his money. And it’s also pretty likely that he married her for sex.”

Sister: “So, it’s a prostitute marriage!”

Me: *blinks* “Um, what?!”

Sister: “He married her because he’s lonely and she’s good in bed, and she married him to take his money. That’s like a prostitute, right?”

Me: “Um…”

Sister: “Only it’s permanent. Kinda…”

(I get a friend request on Facebook from someone with an identical name to mine, which is odd considering I have a fairly rare last name. After about an hour of messaging, we realize we’re distantly related.)

Me: “I’d heard that there were some relatives that moved away to California a long time ago, but we never really talked much about them.”

Relative: “So you never talked about the California [Last Name]’s?”

Me: “Nope, I guess you’re like the Sackville Bagginses.”

Relative: “Yep, totally related.”

(My parents, brother, and I are going out to dinner.)

Dad: “The house on [Street] still has their Christmas lights up.”

Me: “Still? It’s nearly February!”

Brother: “Jesus!”

Dad: “That’s whose birthday they’re celebrating!”

(My brother is six years old.)

Mom: “Okay, today we’re going to visit [Name].”

Brother: “Who is that, mommy?”

Mom: “Your godfather.”

Brother: *looks awed*

(We visit, then leave to go back home. On the way back…)

Brother: “I’m so glad that he’s my godfather, mommy!”

Me: “Do you know what a godfather does?”

Brother: “Yeah, of course!”

Me: “What?”

Brother: “He is… like God, so he can do anything! All powerful! Duh!”