(I’ve recently introduced my brother to the BBC show ‘Sherlock’, in which Benedict Cumberbatch plays the titular detective. We go to see the new movie ‘Star Trek Into Darkness’, and are discussing Cumberbatch’s character as we leave. My brother doesn’t usually get my pop culture references.)

Brother: “I can see the appeal, though. He’s strong, intelligent, capable, and driven.”

Me: “Too bad he’s a complete psychopath.”

Brother: “I’m a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research!”

(I burst out laughing, and have to sit in the car for a minute before I am able to regain enough composure to drive.)

(My son is playing loudly in his playroom, while my husband and I are working in the next room. After a particularly loud crash, my husband goes in and reads my son the riot act. I go in to help him find a quieter game.)

Son: “Mama, I love you sooo much!”

(He throws his arms around my neck, and gives me a big kiss.)

Son: “And now will you tell daddy to go back in the office?”

(My mother, my sister, and I are having dinner with my grandparents. I’ve already had two pieces of cake, and am subtly trying to pull the pan over for a third.)

Mom: “No. You’ve had enough.”

(She returns to conversing with my aunt. My grandfather pushes the pan the rest of the way to me.)

Me: “You’re my favorite enabler.”

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(My mother is planning a cross-country trip to get a car from one coast to the other. My other family members suggest I go with her to keep her company. I refuse, because being trapped with my mother for a week would probably end badly for one or both of us, though I never mention this explicitly. It is a few days before she leaves.)

Mother: “So, why don’t you want to go on the trip with me?”

Me: “I have plans that week.”

Mother: “Hmm…”

Me: “Hey, since you keep saying Grandma needs to visit you out there, why don’t you ask her if she wants to go with you?”

Mother: “You hate me, don’t you?”

Me: “What?!”

Mother: “Do you really think I’d survive for a week stuck in a car with my mother?”

Me: “Uh, well…”

Mother: “…ohhhh.”

(For the record, she really enjoyed the trip… by herself.)

(I am in the bathroom at my parents’ house, and my mom walks in.)

Mom: “Is your father taking a shower?”

(I look around her at the open, empty shower.)

Me: “Well, it doesn’t look like he’s in there…”

Mom: “Okay, smarty pants. Ask him if he’s going to.”

(I yell to father, who is in a different room.)

Me: “Hey, dad! Are you taking a shower?”

Dad: “Well, I look to be on the couch instead of in the bathroom…”

Mom: “…and now I see where you get your stupid sense of humor.”