(I am serving breakfast to two of my little brothers. As I have recently had a child and am trying to lose weight, I serve turkey bacon.)

Brother #1: “Good omelet, but this bacon is weird.”

Brother #2: “Yeah, what brand is it?”

Me: “I don’t remember the brand, but it’s turkey bacon. Maybe that’s what’s weird.”

Brother #2: “TURKEY BACON?!”

Brother #1: “This isn’t bacon; it’s a LIE!”

Brother #2: “You serve us lies, in front of our niece?! How dare you!”

Brother #1: “You call yourself a mother? What kind of example is this for her?!”

(My daughter is about seven years old, and known as the least troublesome child in the family. Whenever her brothers get in trouble, she would become especially good and point it out to me. When she does this, I call it her ‘halo’ coming out. She is currently having an attitude about taking a nap, and giving me some serious back talk.)

Me: “You better watch it, little missy. Your halo is getting all rusty!”

Daughter: “That’s only because it’s been exposed so often!”

(I have to go to the next room to contain my laughter. She doesn’t end up taking the nap.)

(I am at my grandfather’s house, and I am about to tell him about my girlfriend.)

Me: “So… I came to tell you that I am a lesbian.”

Grandfather: “Have you told your brother this?”

Me: “What?”

Grandfather: “Does he know?”

Me: “Yes.”

(My grandfather reaches for his wallet and takes out a £10 note. Assuming it is a ‘coming out’ present, I thank him.)

Grandfather: “Don’t thank me, love. Give your brother this.”

Me: “Um… why?”

Grandfather: “Let’s just say that I lost a bet.”

(I have made my dad watch all of the Harry Potter movies. Despite my best efforts, by the last movie, my dad still has little to no idea what is going on. We have arrived at the graveyard scene.)

Dad: “What’s that? His parents’ graves?”

Me: “Yeah.”

Dad: “Jimmy and Lily Potter!”

Me: “No, dad, it’s James.”

Dad: “Jimmy!”

Me: “Ugh, no.”

Dad: “Lilith! ”

Me: “Stop!”

(Later, during the same movie. I have just explained the scene about Snape’s memories.)

Me: “…and that’s why he isn’t a bad guy.”

Dad: “But didn’t he kill Harry’s parents? Or was that Baltimore?”

Me: “No, it’s Voldemort. Not Baltimore. But yes Voldemort killed his parents.”

Dad: “But Snake was talking to Baltimore, and was working with him, and killed that Dumbledorf guy!”

Me: “Oh, come on. It has been about 20 hours of me constantly telling you their names and you still don’t get Snape, Dumbledore, or even Voldemort? We are definitely not related…”

(My mom has written out a shopping list for my dad. She has sent me, the 14-year-old daughter, along with him to make sure he doesn’t forget anything.)

Dad: *frowning at the list* “Wha…?”

Me: “What is it?”

Dad: “Why does your mom want 40 cartons of tampons?”

(Startled, I look at the list and see ‘Tampons (40 ct.)’.)

Me: “Dad, she wants a 40-count box of tampons.”

Dad: “Oh! Oh, thank God.”