Sister: “I wonder what kind of cheese they use in Mozzarella sticks. Do you know?”

Me: “I’m not even going to answer that.”

Sister: “What? Why?” *long pause* “Oh… right.”

(My friends are parents, talking to their 6-year-old son.)

Mom: “What does grandma do?”

Son: *stirs an imaginary pot*

Dad: “What does grandpa do?”

Son: *reads an imaginary newspaper*

Mom: “What does daddy do?”

Son: *drives an imaginary car*

Dad: “What does mommy do?”

Son: *pulls out an imaginary cell phone from his pocket and starts texting*

(I am at a bachelorette party for my future sister-in-law, who also happens to be my best friend. Neither of us is terribly fond of my extremely controlling and vindictive mother. I have been introduced to the other bridesmaids, mostly the bride-to-be’s old friends from college. As her fiancé’s sister, we all have a few drinks and the topic of in-laws come up. The other girls complain about their mothers-in-law, and my friend chimes in with a few truly horrid stories of her own. However, the mood among the other girls begins to grow uncomfortable as they slowly start to realize that the woman she is complaining about is, in fact, my mother.)

Bride-to-be: “I know, right? I can’t believe she said that to me! There was another time she—”

Bridesmaid #1: “Hey, why don’t we talk about something else for a bit, huh?”

Bride-to-be: “Oh. Okay, but why?”

(The bridesmaids look amongst each other awkwardly.)

Bridesmaid #2: *gesturing to me* “Well, I mean, that is her mom you’re talking about.”

(My future sister-in-law and I look at each other for a second, then burst out laughing, much to the surprise of the others.)

Me: “Oh, don’t worry about that. She might be my mom, but I hate that b****.”

(My mother is babysitting a little girl for her friend. The little girl has made a small mess in the living room whilst eating goldfish crackers.)

Mom: “Now you shouldn’t make such a mess!”

Little girl: “Why?”

Mom: “Because that’s not what you do at my house. If you do that, I won’t like you anymore and you can’t come back.”

(The little girl bursts into tears.)

Me: “Mom! You can’t say that to a little girl!”

Mom: “Well, it worked with you!”

(I am a gay male. We’re at a family night, and I’m with my two older brothers and their families as well as my boyfriend. My six-year-old nephew brings up an interesting topic during supper.)

Nephew: *to me* “Today, I was talking about you and [boyfriend], and my friend’s mom said I shouldn’t spend time with you anymore.”

Sister-in-law: “Why not, sweetie?”

Nephew: “Because they’ll turn me into a dirty gay. But you’re not dirty so…”

Mom: “Don’t worry honey, your uncle and [boyfriend] aren’t dirty, and they don’t turn you gay.”

Me: “Yeah, moms do that.”

(The table erupted into laughter, and apparently when Monday came around he actually told his friends mother that it’s moms who make people gay.)