(My friend, my sister and I are babysitting my sister and her sister-in-law’s kids. We find that it helps to keep them busy by making up stories. There is a little paper box sitting on the table, and to keep them from opening it we tell them that is where we keep my friend’s soul. A couple of weeks pass by.)

Youngest Niece: “Hey Booboo, look at this box!”

(Note: “Booboo” is what my nieces call my mom.)

Mom: “Aw, it’s so cute… what’s in it?” *proceeds to open box*

Youngest Niece: *starts crying* “Nooo! Gina’s soul was in there!”

Mom: “What?!”

(I drive my brother’s car with my seven-year niece in the back seat. I’ve never driven an automatic car before, and now I’ve done something so that the car does not change gears by itself.)

Niece: “What’s wrong?”

Me: “The car will not shift gear.”

Niece: “Aha.”

Me: “Do not you hear how loud the car sounds? It should not do that.”

Niece: *coming up with the solution* “Turn on the radio, and then you won’t hear it!”

(My mom has a slight addiction to Facebook games. This particular one requires you to answer trivia questions quickly before the timer runs out.)

Mom: *yells at me from her computer* “Hey! What kind of diet does a deer have?!”

Me: *walking over* “They are herbivores!”

Mom: “Are you sure? They don’t eat any meat?”

Me: “Not unless they are seriously pissed.”

Mom: *laughs* “What?”

Me: “Well, think about it. With the exception of consuming bath balts, or turning into a real zombie, a deer would have to be seriously pissed at a human or animal to eat it, like Bambi on revenge or something. I can see him ripping their flesh off for killing his mother. Maybe he wouldn’t eat them but, ha! Wouldn’t that make an interesting sequel?”

Mom: *continues playing her game* “I should be more concerned about you, but I’m trying to level up. Either go clean you room or shut up and help me.”

(My four-year-old is trying to do a cartwheel in our living room, and she’s very excited because she can almost do it.)

Daughter: “Daddy! Daddy! Did you see what I did? Watch!”

Husband: *not really watching* “Okay, honey. What did you did?”

(She stands up and puts her hands on her hips.)

Daughter: “It’s what did you do, daddy. We speak proper English in this house!”

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(I’m sitting in my room browsing on the Internet. My mom comes in texting on her phone and looks up, only to pull my blinds open to let in the sun. Immediately, I start cringing and writhing on my bed.)

Me: “Argh! The light…! It burns us…!”

(My mom ignores me and starts to leave.)

Me: *laughing* “I just love your nonreaction whenever I act weird.”

Mom: “Honestly, I can’t tell the difference any more. I blame your dad. And besides, what would you have me do? Close them?”

Me: “Yes! For all you know, Gollum could be planted somewhere in our family tree!”

Mom: “Who?”

Me: “From Lord of the Rings?”

(Stares in incomprehension.)

Me: “Think [mom’s older sister], on a bad hair day.”

Mom: *pauses to think* “With the wigs, or without?”

Me: “I give up.”