(A male client enters the store, and is browsing the diamond ring section.)

Me: “Good morning! How can I help you today?”

Customer: “I’m hoping to find a maternity ring for my wife.”

Me: “Oh, how sweet! You are expecting a baby?”

Customer: “Oh heaven forbid NO! We have four already!”

Me: “Oh, then you must mean an eternity ring.”

Customer: “Eternity! Yes! That’s the one!”

(He proceeds to purchase a very expensive diamond ring for his wife.)

Me: “Thank you, sir! Have a great day!”

(The customer returns to the store three days later.)

Me: “Hi! Did you wife like the ring you bought her?”

Customer: “She did, but I jinxed myself.”

Me: “Uh oh, is it what I think it is?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “So, another maternity ring?”

(He then went out and bought me a big box of chocolates, and then after the baby was born, brought him in for cuddles!)

(I’m visiting my home town for the first time since leaving after high school 10 years prior. I’m in the supermarket with my dad, who is making a separate purchase at the same check out as me. The checkout operator—one of the bullies from school—notices on our credit cards that we share a surname, and are both wearing wedding rings.)

Checkout Bully: *staring at me in horror* “Isn’t he a bit old for you? What is he, like, loaded or something?”

Me: *linking arms with my dad* “Seriously sweets, the older guys have really got it all. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

Dad: “You seriously think I could pull someone like HER? Thank you very much; you just made my day. Still, you think you’d remember her name from school. She makes more money than her husband does, so she kept her last name.” *turning to me* “Were all your schoolmates that stupid?”

Me: “No Dad, just the ones still working the same jobs they had in school.”

(My parents do not care for my fiancé, especially after I got pregnant last year. My new-born daughter and I are visiting them.)

Mom: *sighs*

Me: “Mom, you’ve been sighing all day. What is it?”

Mom: “D*** it! I still don’t like your idiot fiancé! But at least he makes really adorable babies.”

(I tell my three-year-old daughter that I’m going to clean the bathroom in a minute. She runs off to ‘help’ me. When I enter the bathroom, she’s cleaning the toilet with my toothbrush.)

Me: “What are you doing?”

Daughter: “Helping you! I clean the potty!”

Me: “Yes, I can see that.”

Daughter: “Clean, clean, clean, ALL clean!”

Me: *suddenly suspicious* “Have you helped mummy clean like that before? With the little brush?”

Daughter: “YES! This one is blue; the other one was pink.”

Me: “I changed my tooth brush three weeks ago, and you’ve been ‘helping’ me all this time?”

Daughter: “YES! Mummy, why are you throwing my brush away?”

(I am lying on the couch, while my remote is on the coffee table, about five feet away. The new wand I bought from the Wizarding World Of Harry Potter is lying beside me.)

Me: “Hey, can someone hand me the remote?”

(No one answers me.)

Me: “Anyone?”

(I reach, but I know in order to get it I have to sit up. I pick up my wand and jokingly point it at the remote.)

Me: “Wingardium Leviosa!”

(I turn to see my brother looking at me with concern.)

Brother: “That is legitimately the nerdiest thing I’ve ever seen you do, and I’ve seen you try to knock someone out with the Vulcan nerve pinch.”