I am with my Nana, and I am watching “Rick And Morty.” One of the episodes revolves around concentrated dark matter. I go into the other room to check on my Nana. 

Nana: “What’s that show about?”

Me: “It’s about a boy and his grandfather who go on adventures. The grandfather’s a scientist, and he’s perfected dark matter, which gives him faster-than-speed-of-light travel.”

Nana: “What’s dark matter?”

Me: “Okay, you and I are made of matter, right?”

Nana: “Yes.”

Me: “Dark matter is basically antimatter.”

Nana just has a blank look.

Me: “How do I explain this? Everything on Earth is made of matter, but space is basically antimatter because it has no substance.”

Nana still has a blank look.

Me: “I’m only confusing you, aren’t I?”

Nana: “Yes.”

My mother-in-law calls me one afternoon shortly after my first child is born. I am exhausted and just want to sleep but I know if I don’t answer, she will either keep calling or come over.

Me: *Heavy sigh* “Hello?”

Mother-In-Law: “Do you really think it’s appropriate to show off your body like that?”

Me: *Looking down at my post-baby body* “What?”

Mother-In-Law: “The video you posted yesterday on [Social Media #1].”

My husband and I did a time-lapse video of my body changing week to week. I start at one end of our living room and move toward the couch wearing different sports bras and yoga pants each week. This means my growing bump is front and center. At the end, I’m passed out on the couch wearing a tank top and sweatpants with my baby sleeping on my chest.

Me: *Sigh* “[Mother-In-Law], I’m very tired. Can you please get to the point?”

Mother-In-Law: “I don’t think it’s appropriate to show your body like that. There are perverts everywhere.”

Me: “My page is private. If one of my friends gets off on my stretch marks, that’s not my problem, nor is it your business.”

Mother-In-Law: *Tuts* “Disgusting. I wonder how your son is going to feel when he grows up and sees that.”

Me: “He’ll be embarrassed by his mother, like all kids. If that’s all—”

Mother-In-Law: “You need to take that down.”

Me: “No.”

Mother-In-Law: “Take it down!”

I hang up and turn off my ringer. She calls three times over the next hour, but I don’t answer. The next morning, she walks in the front door, not even bothering to knock.

Husband: “Mom?”

Mother-In-Law: “Look, I was polite yesterday—”

Me: “No, you weren’t.”

Husband: “What is going on?”

Mother-In-Law: “She is attracting the wrong kind of attention with her body.”

Me: “Your mom is offended by our time-lapse video.”

Husband: “Why?”

Mother: “It’s disgusting.”

Me: “Have you looked at [Her Daughter] on [Social Media #2]?”

Mother: *Faltering* “She— She doesn’t have one.”

Me: “She does.”

I pull up [Social Media #1] and go to [Her Daughter]’s page. One of the latests posts mentions her account on [Social Media #2]. I go to [Social Media #2] and scroll through videos of her fifteen-year-old daughter lip syncing to popular songs in bikinis, shaking her butt in cheeky underwear, and slowly licking lollipops. She has nearly 2,000 followers.

My husband sits down beside me, sees the videos, and jumps up immediately.

Husband: “Mom, what the h*** is this?”

Me: “It’s child pornography.”

Mother-In-Law: “It is not!”

Me: “She’s exposing more of her body in any one of these videos than I am in mine. You should ask her about this, too.”

I point to comments that should never be said to a stranger, let alone an underage child.

[Mother-In-Law] left without another word, and within an hour, [Her Daughter] had no [Social Media #1]. I haven’t heard a word about my video since. I felt bad for [Her Daughter], but maybe [Mother-In-Law] should have paid attention to her own children’s Internet activity more than mine.

My dad has always helped make sure our pets are financially cared for. As children, he always told us that if we get a pet we are accepting the responsibility to care for them no matter what happens. When we all grow up and move out my dad inherits the cat who has been there for over ten years. Now that the cat is sixteen years old, my dad has passed on care of the house and cat to me. About two weeks ago, he asked me about my twelve-year-old chihuahua.

Dad: “How is [Dog]? I’ve noticed you haven’t borrowed any money for her to go to the vet lately.”

Me: “Oh, she’s good. She should probably see the vet for her heart murmur, though.”

Dad: “Why haven’t you done that? Money is no excuse. When you get a pet, you take responsibility for that pet.”

Me: “Well, with my car breaking down and you loaning me the money for that and for the house, I was trying to pay you back before I asked for more.” 

Dad: “I’m well aware of how much you owe me, but you owe it to her to make sure she sees the vet.”

Me: “I, uh… Yes, sir. Thanks.”

Today, I get a card from the vet saying it’s time for my dog’s yearly vet appointment along with her kitty brother. I owned two cats before moving in. As a bad pet parent, I accidentally waited too long and did not get my female fixed before she, ahem, “multiplied,” and I kept one of her kittens. With the sixteen-year-old, I now have three cats; all are now fixed.

Me: *To Dad* “Hey, remember how we talked about the vet the other day for [Dog]? Well, I just got a card saying that she and [Young Male Cat] are due for checkups. Will you help me pay for them?”

Dad: “Sure. It’s [Vet], right? They’re used to how we do things.”

Usually, my sisters or I go to the vet and my dad pays over the phone.

Me: “Yup. Oh, and when is [Old Male Cat] due for his next checkup?”

Dad: “I’d have to look it up. I’m a bad pet parent and don’t practice what I preach.”

Me: “Okay, well, I’ll practice what you preach, then. I can plan on taking [Older Male Cat] and [Momma Cat] together in about six months. That way, it’s two pets twice a year.” 

Dad: “Perfect.”

He never wanted pets, which did cause him to be incredibly strict on the whole “take care of your pet” thing; if we didn’t feed them and treat them right, they got new homes. It sounds harsh, but we learned real quickly that he had no problem giving animals to “other children willing to appreciate their pets,” and we’ve always made sure our pets were cared for in homes, not shelters.

My family consists of my husband, my daughter, and me. My daughter can be quite confrontational at times. I’m on a road trip and calling home.

Me: “I love you boys. Good night.”

Daughter: “Why are you calling us both boys when I’m a girl?”

Husband: “Well, she’s calling us both boys and I’m old, but you don’t hear me complaining, do ya?”

This takes place while there is a state-mandated requirement to wear masks when shopping. I’ve gone to the hardware store with my boyfriend and his father to pick something up. As we’re walking back to the car, his father spots a discarded cloth mask on the ground.

Father: “Oh, hey, did one of you drop your mask?”

Boyfriend: “Dad, no! It’s not ours; it’s trash.”

Father: “We should take it home and wash it.”

Boyfriend: “Leave it!”

Me: “That would be like picking up a pair of underwear off the ground and putting it in the wash!”

Father: “Well, I mean, if it’s still good…”

Boyfriend: “NO, DAD!”

When we got back to their house, his mother thankfully sided with us when his father tried to complain about us “wasting” a perfectly good mask.