(My eight-year-old daughter has been begging for a cell phone, and is jealous of her 11-year-old friend who just got her first cell, an older iPhone. My husband and I take them both to a local farm.)

Me: “[Friend], your phone’s falling out of your pocket; you should have left it in the car.”

Friend: “But I’m taking pictures of the kittens.”

Me: “I guess that’s reasonable.”

Daughter: “And her mom called her.”

Me: “Oh, why’d she call?”

Friend: “She just wanted to make sure we got here.”

Me: “Nope, we sold you to sea traders.”

(Everyone laughs.)

Daughter: “Mom? If we do sell her, can I have her phone?”

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(I am in high school, and am about to go spend a weekend down at the beach drinking with friends. My mother is very anti-alcohol, but also has a tendency to assume people are innocent. It is also pouring with rain outside and very chilly.)

Me: “Alright, I am off.”

Mom: “What are y’all going to do down there anyway?”

Me: *nervously* “Uh we are going to go fishing.”

Mom: *cheerfully* “Oh okay, have fun!”

(Mom leaves the room.)

Dad: “Really? Fishing? That was the best you could come up with?”

(I’ve gone with my boss to look at new desk chairs for our office.)

Me: “This one’s comfy!”

My Boss: “How much is that one?”

Salesman: “$280.”

Me: “Really? But it looks just like this one in the catalog that’s $179.”

Salesman: “No, see how the back is different?”

Me: “A little.”

My Boss: “I’m buying a lot of chairs. Is it possible to get a discount?”

Salesman: “No, $280 is the price. Plus delivery.”

My Boss: “Delivery? I’ve bought furniture from you a dozen times, and you’ve never charged us for delivery! We’re around the corner from you!”

Salesman: “Sorry, our prices are set.”

(The manager, whom my boss has done business with before, enters the showroom.)

Manager: “Hi, nice to see you again. What are you looking for?”

My Boss: “I want a set of office chairs, but your salesman said you can’t go below $280 for these. And are you charging for delivery now?”

Manager: “$280? That chair is $150! And no, we don’t charge for delivery.”

My Boss: *to salesman* “Is that true?”

(The salesman’s ears turn red.)

Manager: *to my boss* “I’m handling your account from now on.”

(I am volunteering in a spiritual sanctuary retreat, along with several other young girls who are on their first volunteering experience. There are many objects lying around the sanctuary, such as bags of medicinal herbs, incense, candles and other ritualistic things. It’s an unsaid fact that you shouldn’t touch them. I am working in the kitchen when I hear loud singing outside.)

Young Volunteer Girl: *singing* “He’s there; the phantom of the operaaaaaa!”

(I shake my head and go back to work as she continues singing. Some time later, she bursts into the kitchen wearing a mask which, granted, does look a lot like the mask from ‘The Phantom Of The Opera.’)

Young Volunteer Girl: *still singing* “Beware, the phantom of the operaaaaaa!”

Me: “Uh, where did you find that mask?”

Young Volunteer Girl: “I think it was in [room]. It’s pretty cool, huh?”

Me: “I don’t want to spoil the fun, but that is a sacred mask. It’s used in rituals, and only certain people are allowed to wear it.”

(The girl stops singing, and takes off the mask. She shuffles around uncomfortably.)

Young Volunteer Girl: “I guess I’ll go and put it back then.”

(As she leaves the room, I sigh and shake my head. She wasn’t fired, but after that she was particularly careful not to play with objects of which she didn’t know the use!)

(I’m a reporter at a small-town radio station. The town’s big summer festival is coming up. Last year, I tried to volunteer to work at the festival, but the boss told me that it was against company policy. She said that, as the reporter, I couldn’t work at the event so as to stay impartial. This year, my boss is working at the festival as the volunteer coordinator. It’s literally the day before this year’s festival when she comes up to me.)

Boss: “So, I think it would be a great show of the company’s support for the festival if all of us volunteered to work at the festival this year. We should all work the front gate, because that’s the most difficult job.”

Me: “But, what about company policy? Last year, you clearly said it was against company policy for me to work at the festival.”

Boss: “Oh, please. Company policy changes on a weekly basis. You can’t hold up policy from a year ago and expect it to still be valid. Now, what shift would you like to work?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I wish you told me about this change in policy sooner. I’ve spent the past few weeks lining up all kinds of interviews with the organizers and the entertainers. I’m going to be far too busy covering the festival to work at the festival.”

Boss: “Look here. I hold a very high position of authority with the festival this year, and I’m working the front gate. I say the only way you’re getting on the site is if you volunteer to work! Good luck finding another arrangement!”

(The boss storms off in a huff. I pick up the phone and call the festival’s president.)

Me: “Hey, I’m still getting a press pass this year, right?”

President: “Of course you are! It’ll be waiting for you at the front gate on the first day.”

Me: “Right on. Thank you very much!”

(About an hour later, the boss comes back to me.)

Boss: “Now that you’ve had some time to think it over, what shift would you like to work at the festival?”

Me: “Actually, I was very successful in finding another arrangement. I don’t need to work at the festival to get on the site.”

Boss: “I can’t believe you’d turn your back on your team, your station, like this! You have to go to [coworker] right now, tell him he’s working on his own, and apologize to him!”

(This being a very small station, this coworker is working at the cubicle next to mine. I turn and start talking to him.)

Me: “Hey, [coworker], I’m sorry I won’t be able to help you out working the front gate. I’m just going to be far too busy covering the festival.”

Coworker: “When were you ever working with me? [Boss] has been telling me for weeks that I’d be working on my own, because you’d be far too busy covering the event. And I’ve sat here for the past few days watching you line up all those interviews. No worries, man. I know this is a busy time for you. Don’t work too hard!”

(I turn back to my boss.)

Me: “Yeah, [coworker] says he’s fine with it.”

(My boss just screams and walks away. The look on her face at the front gate the next day, as another volunteer hands me my press pass and media kit, is priceless.)