(I am an adult but live with my parents, who have just gone out of town for the weekend. On my way home from work, I text my father.)

Me: “Did I, by any chance, receive a new debit card today? And did you go ahead and activate it?”

Dad: “As a matter of fact, yes. How did you know?”

Me: “Because it’s [this month], and my expiry date is [next month], and MY CARD KEPT GETTING DECLINED! Don’t do that to me!”

Dad: “Sorry, but I don’t understand. You mean, once the new one is activated, the old one no longer works, even if it hasn’t reached the expiration date?”

Me: “Correct.”

Dad: “Sorry. But it gets worse; I have the new card with me.”

Me: “Argh!”

(I can, of course, understand his not realizing that activating the new card would deactivate the old. I wouldn’t have known that was what was going on either—except that we went through the same thing last time.)

(My dad’s cat has been ‘playing’ with his plants, and my dad has just found out. He is shouting at the cat, while the cat is running away.)

Dad: “If you do that again, I’ll take you to the mountain and leave you there! Do you hear me? The MOUNTAIN!”

(Later that day, we are watching a movie filmed somewhere in South America on TV, and the cat is curled up next to us.)

Dad: “What amazing scenery. Look at this mountain!”

Cat: *jumps out of sofa and runs away*

(My two sons, aged six and eight are playing video games. I hear my six year old say the ‘S’ word out loud.)

Me: “That’s a bad word! If you guys use that word again, you’ll be grounded!”

Eight-Year-Old Son: “[Six-year-old] is so stupid; that’s why he’s always in trouble. You can’t ground me, mom. I would’ve yelled ‘poop.'” ‘Oh feces!’ ‘Defecation!’ ‘Fecal matter!’ ‘Oh excrement!’ Or ‘explosive diarrhea!'”

Me: “Oh, you’d be grounded the same! Where did you learn all those words?”

Eight-Year-Old Son: “Oh, my vocabulary? It’s from the electronic dictionary you bought me.”

Six-Year-Old Son: “Mom, you should really ground yourself.”

(I have friends visiting London. They have a baby daughter, who is absolutely adorable and I love to carry as we walk the streets and see the sights. I notice something, and start talking to the father.)

Me: “Hey, she keeps pointing at all the ice-cream shops as we pass them. Do you think maybe she wants an ice—”

Father: “No!”

Me: “Uh… okay.”

Father: “You know the rule! You never let the hungry monster develop a taste for human flesh!”

(My father and I are leaving a restaurant. We get into conversation with a couple. I am 18, and my father is 43.)

Woman: “So, do you have any little ones?”

Dad: *somewhat appalled* “No, I’m her father.”

Woman: “Oh, I’m sorry; I just thought—”

Me: “Nope, I’m his daughter.”

Woman: “I thought it was just one of those things. I’m so sorry!”

(Later, dad and I are on our way to the car.)

Dad: “I’m old enough to be your father!”

Me: “You are my father!”