(For many years, my father has been famous in his circle of friends for the… unique greetings he records for the family answering machine. I call their house phone today and get the following:)

Message: “Hi, this is the [Our Last Name]’s answering machine. They say life begins when the kids move out and the dog dies. Since we still have a healthy and active dog, I guess we’re not alive. If you wish to speak with the undead, please leave your name, number, and a brief message, and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks.”

(I left a message asking if I should call back later or just double-tap. Looking forward to the reply!)

(My father isn’t very tech-savvy, so occasionally he’ll ask me to look up old friends of his on Facebook and the like. One day, he calls me down from my room to do so, and points out a friend request from a youngish-looking guy whose name I don’t recognize.)

Dad: “Guess who that is.”

Me: “One of your work buddies’ kids?”

Dad: “Nope.”

Me: “Uh… I give up.”

Dad: *grinning* “He’s your older brother!”

(I’m caught pretty off-guard by this, because, one: I only have two brothers, both younger, two: this guy and I don’t have the same last name, and three: my father is also a notorious jokester. After double-checking that it isn’t April Fool’s, I stare at him, waiting for him to start laughing. Instead, he hugs me.)

Dad: “Surprise!”

(It turns out my mother and father had a baby when they were teenagers. Since they couldn’t support him, they agreed in advance to give him up for adoption, and he was apparently born with some pretty severe health problems, so they tried lessening the pain by telling themselves he wouldn’t have been around long, anyway. But he actually recovered, grew up in another state, and then came back here to buy a house when he and his wife were expecting their first child. The cherry on top? He worked in tree service like my father and ended up being sent to a job at one of my mother’s sister’s houses! His resemblance to my mother was uncanny, which my aunt remarked on, and since his adoptive parents had told him about his roots, that ended up leading him to us. Unfortunately, he never got to meet my mother, as she’d passed away a few years earlier, but he was still welcomed warmly by the rest of our huge family. On top of that, I’m great friends with my sister-in-law, and I’ve got a niece and baby nephew I absolutely adore… and who have their big, gruff-looking new Grandpa utterly wrapped around their little fingers!)

(When my daughter was born, my mother-in-law hated that I was breastfeeding her and would try to order me to get her onto bottled formula. A couple of weeks after giving birth, I bring my baby to see my husband’s grandmother. My baby starts crying while she is being held by her great-grandmother.)

Grandmother: “Do you breastfeed her?”

Mother-In-Law: *grunts* “Yes, she thinks it’s natu—”

Grandmother: *cuts her off* “Well, get your boob out; the wee thing is hungry, and booby is best.”

([Mother-In-Law] never chastised me again for breastfeeding.)

(My sister has recently worked up the courage to kick out her abusive husband. The only problem is that he needs help moving his stuff to his new flat, but he doesn’t have a car. Being the nice person that I am, I offer to drive him there, and my teenage niece tags along so I can drop her off in town later. After a long, uncomfortably silent journey, we get to the flat. The husband basically bullies me into helping carry his stuff inside, but my niece manages to convince him to let her stay in the car. She’s on her phone. I grab some stuff and go up to the flat, feeling unsettled by the husband’s sullen silence.)

Husband: “Put that box just in there.”

(I do, and turn just in time to see him close the door. Although he has always been friendly toward me, I’ve heard what he’s capable of, and am understandably nervous. He insists on showing me around before I leave. I agree, but soon come to regret my decision.)

Husband: “…and here’s the bedroom.” *he gestures toward the far wall* “There are two old biddies next door, who like each other very much. I used to turn the TV up at night, but now I just sit and listen to them. It’s quite funny.” *he starts to imitate moaning noises and squeaking*

Me: *freaked out* “Right… Well, I’ve got to go now. [Niece] is waiting in the car.”

(He just stares at me.)

Me: “I’ll just let myself out.”

(I practically flee the building, and scramble into my car, creeped out. My niece looks up from her phone for the first time all day, looking at me with mild interest.)

Niece: “I can’t believe you went with him. The number one rule of staying alive as a young woman: Never go into a flat with a strange man, especially without backup.”

Me: *laughing nervously* “Oh, I was kind of hoping you’d be my backup. Just out of interest… How long would you have left it before coming after me?”

Niece: “I’d like to say ten minutes…”

Me: “But?”

Niece: “Realistically? Probably when my phone ran out of battery.”

(Needless to say, I was not impressed.)

(A friend gets a call from his brother. After talking a little:)

Friend: “Oh, did you know that Mom got bit by a rattlesnake?”

Brother: “No, I didn’t! Is she all right?”

Friend: “Yeah, they kept her in the hospital overnight, but it was a dry bite, and she’s okay.”

(Dry bites are when the snake doesn’t inject any venom. They are surprisingly common, as the snake doesn’t want to waste the venom. [Brother] thinks about it a minute and then calls their sister.)

Brother: “Hey, sis, did you know Mom got bit by a rattlesnake?”

Sister: *screams* “NO, I DIDN’T! Is the snake okay?”