(I’m having a conversation with my mum about a woman I work with. This woman is really pretty and good natured, but not very intelligent.)

Me: “She’s nice enough, but it’s a real pain having to till train her every five minutes. I’m convinced the manager only employed her because she has blonde hair and nice legs!”

Mum: “That’s ridiculous! Are you saying your manager only employed her because she’s pretty?”

Me: “Yeah, he does this a lot!”

Mum: “Well that can’t be right. He employed you, didn’t he!?”

(My mom is cooking dinner. I’ve wandered into the kitchen to see if she needs help. She is currently cutting vegetables.)

Me: “Need some help?”

Mom: “Um… yeah.”

(She gestures in the general direction of the fridge.)

Mom: “Get me the… the um… get me the…”

(She goes silent and continues cutting vegetables.)

Me: “The what?”

(She continues without looking up or stopping.)

Mom: “The… the… um the… thing…”

Me: “The what?”

Mom: “The… umm… the soup.”

(I know for a fact that there is no soup in the fridge. I check anyway.)

Me: “The soup?”

Mom: “Yeah… chicken soup… no… the chicken stock.”

Me: “Chicken stock?”

Mom: Yes… wait, no… beef stock… broth.”

Me: “Beef broth.”

Mom: “Yes, beef broth! What’s taking so long?”

(My gay friend, Josh, is on his way over to my house.)

Dad: “You have company coming; make your bed!”

(I am being lazy. I fling my comforter on top of the bed, and decide that is good enough. I call out so Dad will hear me, and hopefully let me go back to watching TV.)

Me: “There, it’s been straightened… sort of.”

(Dad walks in.)

Dad: “Josh is straighter than that.”

(My younger sister is sitting at the kitchen table eating, while my middle sister and my mom discuss my oldest sister being pregnant. They begin to go into great deal about childbirth.)

Younger Sister: “Ew! I’m just trying to eat my soup without puking!”

Middle Sister: “And I’m just trying to have a nice conversation while you’re eating soup.”

Younger Sister: “You don’t even have kids! Why do you know all this?”

(They ignore her and go back to their conversation. My younger sister becomes visibly pale, and shoves her soup away.)

Younger Sister: “Ew! I am never f****** having kids!”

(She storms off. My mother looks quite satisfied, despite the bad language.)

Me: “You know you’ve scarred her for life, right?”

Mother: “Yeah, but she’s 17. I just want to make sure she stays as far away from guys as possible.”

(My seven-year-old brother, my father, my father’s girlfriend, and I are all in the car. The topic of sexism, racism, and homophobia in superhero comics comes up in conversation.)

Me: “I love comics, but it sucks that there are so few gay heroes mainstream. The Green Lantern is pretty much the only one.”

Dad’s Girlfriend: “Wasn’t he different in the movie?”

Me: “Yeah, they played him as hetero to get more customers.”

Dad’s Girlfriend: Yeah, the mainstream media is like that, huh?”

Me: “It’s played up in the comics, but down in the movie—still, it’s surprising that there’s a gay superhero at all.”

Brother: “The Green Lantern isn’t the only one.”

Me: “Wait, who else?”

Brother: “There’s always Batman and Robin.”