(My dad is playing a video game that allows your character to spawn a tank that you personalize it by color. I’m currently teaching him how to play.)

Me: “Okay, so first change your color to something you like…”

(He ignores me and hits the continue button. A pretty pink tank labelled ‘FLAMINGO’ pops up.)

Me: “Oh… my… God.”

Dad: “What?”

Me: “You forgot to change the color! It’s bright pink!”

Dad: “So, what?”

Me: “Can’t you choose something a bit more manly?”

(Dad hits the fire button. The FLAMINGO launches a rocket and destroys a building. Dad is happily grinning at the rubble.)

Me: “…Never mind, continue.”

Grandma: “This phone just doesn’t work! It only lets me put in three contacts, and then I can’t see any more!”

Me: “Okay, let me see it. Maybe I can figure it out.”

(Grandma hands the phone over.)

Me: “I don’t see the problem here. You have nine people in this list.”

Grandma: “How did you do that?! How did you see more than the first three?”

Me: “I pressed the down arrow.”

(I have lost my voice thanks to the flu. When my husband and 3-year-old son come home, I use Google Translate to communicate.)

Me: *through Google Translate* “Hi, Honey! I love you!”

Son: “I love you too, mummy’s iPad!”

(My sister and I are total Harry Potter nerds, and there’s a Harry Potter marathon going on. We both love the end of Chamber of Secrets. Unfortunately, the day before we had missed it, but we come back home after shopping and I turn it on.)

Me: “Hey, sis! The end of Chamber of Secrets is on!”

(I turn the TV to that channel only to see it is just past the part we love.)

Me: “Scratch that! It’s the end, but not the end, end, it’s the end end.”

Sister: “So close!”

Me: “But, we still get to see Dobby get released from the Malloy’s treachery!”

Sister: “Yay!”

(My older sister and I are both very OCD about English, and constantly correct grammar if we hear something incorrectly stated. My older sister is helping my younger sister out with an essay for English.)

Older sister: “How about I just sit down and proofread the essay? That way, I can fix any grammar problems as well.”

Younger sister: “Okay, that’s fine.”

(A couple minutes later, my older sister starts exclaiming about how horrible the grammar in the essay is.)

Older sister: “Wow, this grammar seriously sucks.”

Younger sister: “Whatever, it’s not like I’m good at English. I’m more better at Math.”

Me: *convulsing on the ground from lack of correct grammar* “So… many… things… wrong with that sentence!”

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