Mom: “Well, I should get going. I don’t have long before [Boyfriend] gets home and I want some time to relax.”

Me: “Okay. I’m going to go eat a box of chocolate while watching The Bachelor and reading Cosmopolitan because I just realized this will be the first Valentine’s Day I’ve been alone for in years.”

Mom: “…Okay. Well, I was going to say ‘have a good night,’ but that no longer seems appropriate.”

(It is the day before my dad is going in for a colonoscopy and he hasn’t been allowed to eat anything other than clear broth and Gatorade all day. My mom has left ‘pre-approved colonoscopy prep foods’ labelled on a shelf for my dad. She has asked my 17-year-old sister not to cook anything too pungent while he is on his restricted foods. I walk in from work at 6:00 pm to the overwhelming smell of freshly fried bacon. My dad is sitting on the couch looking miserable. My sister is sitting in the recliner across the room.)

Me: “Hey, who cooked bacon?”

Dad: “Your little sister thought it would be a great idea to make herself a bacon sandwich for dinner.”

Me: *to my sister* “Jeez, sadistic much?”

Sister: “Hey, I offered to make him one too, but all he wanted was that chicken broth crap Mom put in the fridge! I made extra bacon, if you’re still hungry, Dad.”

Me: *to my dad* “Do you want me to smack her so it isn’t considered child abuse?”

(My 8-year-old niece is spending the night. She and my 5-year-old son are sipping hot chocolate at the table.)

Niece: *in a business-like tone* “So, how’s your co-ffee?” *she emphasizes and elongates the syllables in the word ‘coffee’*

Son: *yelling* “It’s too black and too strong!”

(They burst into a fit of giggles and settle down.)

Niece: “Now it’s your turn!”

Son: *in the same tone and cadence as niece* “So, how’s your co-ffee?”

Niece: “It’s too black and too strong!”

(They burst into another fit of giggles and repeat a few more times, switching roles.)

(I refuse to buy cheap jeans because they wear out too quickly to be worth it. My mom often makes fun of me for this, especially since I have refused to try on any of the jeans at this store, despite how ‘cute’ she thinks they are. I come out, modelling a shirt.)

Mom: “That’s a great shirt on you! And those jeans are amazong!”

Me: “I know, right? These are incredible jeans, and comfy to boot!”

Mom: “See, I told you you’d like them! And they’re so cheap! Weren’t they only $15 a pair? You should go grab some more!”

Me: “Oh, no. These were a hundred dollars! They’re the jeans I walked in with.”

(My mom’s smile is quickly replaced with an annoyed expression.)

Mom: “You turkey! Get back in there and finish trying on clothes!”

(Once in awhile, I pick my 9-year-old cousin up from her school and take her out to run errands and go out to eat. We run to the grocery store near my home so I can buy new shampoo and conditioner. I had already taken a shower and had used my younger sister’s. My sister has really frizzy hair that she keeps under control with product.)

9-year-old Cousin: “Why are you buying that?”

Me: “Because I ran out of shampoo and conditioner.”

9-year-old Cousin: “But you took a shower today.”

Me: “I used my sister’s shampoo.”

9-year-old Cousin: “Why can’t you keep using hers?”

Me: “Because it’s not good for my hair, which is why I’m buying this kind.”

9-year-old Cousin: “Well, obviously it’s not good for your hair if that’s what hers looks like!”