(I am talking online about parenting.)
Me: “Argh. I look over and she’s standing in a puddle of pee with a purple crayon shoved up her nose.”
Friend: “If anyone ever asks you what it’s like to have a toddler, you just quote that line right there.”
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(My teenage sister and I are on vacation with our grandparents in Hawaii. I am 18, and have my driver’s license, but my grandfather refuses to let me drive, as it is clearly unsafe to let someone so young behind the wheel.)
Grandpa: “Let’s go drive around the island. There are some beaches I want you girls to see.”
(We get in the car, and he allows me to sit in the front passenger seat. This is fortunate, because he decides that he is going to drive in the wrong lane so that we can get a better view out of the left side of the car.)
Me: *flailing wildly and grabbing the steering wheel* “Grandpa! You can’t drive on that side of the road, there are cars coming!”
Grandpa: “What? I used my turn signal! It’s fine!”
(It’s a few weeks before my nephew’s 6th birthday. I’m teasing him by saying I’ve already gotten his present, but not telling him what it is.)
Nephew: “I know, I’ll guess while you spell it out.”
Me: “Okay. First letter is ‘B’.”
Nephew: “‘D’? I know! Darth Vader!”
Me: “No, not ‘D’, ‘B’.”
Nephew: “That’s what I said, ‘V’ as in Vader.”
Me: “No, ‘B’ as in boy.”
Nephew: “Darth Vader is a boy!”
(I am 23, but I have a niece who is 16. I am taking her to lunch.)
Niece: “Do you like [popular brand of shoes]?”
Me: “I don’t own any, but yeah I like them. I’ve heard they’re really comfortable.”
Niece: “I don’t. They’re so hipster. And hipster is becoming mainstream. And I hate mainstream. I’m like an anti-hipster-hipster.”
Me: “I don’t think that makes sense.”
Niece: “Sure it does!”
(We pass by an intersection with two Americanized Mexican food restaurants.)
Niece: “You know what is a bad place to eat?”
(She names a local authentic Mexican Food restaurant.)
Niece: “It tastes too Mexican.”
Me: “So, let me get this straight. You’re an anti-hipster-hipster who doesn’t like her Mexican food to taste too much like Mexican food?”
Niece: “Exactly! I’m so glad you understand!”
(My fiancé has missed the first ultrasound of our baby due to a deployment. I am relaying the information that I had been told by the doctor, on to him.)
Me: “So, they think that the baby is only 16 weeks, not 18 like we had thought.”
Fiancé: “Okay, that’s cool.”
(Three hours later, out of the blue…)
Fiancé: “Wait, does that mean your due date has changed too?”
