(My wife and my two-year-old daughter go to a local playground. My wife sees a pair of three-year-old boys digging a large hole in the sand.)
Wife: “Aw, look how cute they are.”
(I look over, and being a guy, I know exactly what they are up to.)
Me: “They are digging a pitfall trap.”
Wife: *laughing* “Don’t be so silly.”
(Five minutes later, one of the boys came over to my daughter.)
Boy: “Why don’t you come over here? Don’t look down…”
(My sister and I are watching ‘Captain America’ for the first time. We reach a scene where a bad guy tosses a kid in the water to escape.)
Sister: “People back then couldn’t swim!”
Me: “What?”
Sister: “In the 1940s, people couldn’t swim.”
Me: “That has got to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”
Sister: “Wait, what?”
Me: “You think that people in 1950 just magically realized that it would be pretty cool if they could swim in the water?”
Sister: “Wow…did I really just say that?”
(I am on the phone to my Dad.)
Me: “Yesterday was awesome! We went to the mall and I got a lesbian shirt!”
(I meant I bought a shirt with a rainbow flag on it.)
Dad: “Wait, a lesbian shirt? You mean a shirt that likes other shirts instead of pants?”
(I am about 4 years old. My mother has noticed a policeman strolling down the street. Being a nosy neighbour, she wants to know what house number he is looking for. She takes me aside.)
Mum: “I want you to sneak outside and find out what door number the policeman is knocking on.”
Me: *enthusiastically* “Okay, Mum!”
(I proceed to go outside and do exactly what my mum wants, albeit not in the fashion she expected. I walk right up to the policeman.)
Me: “Excuse me! What door number are you looking for?”
Policeman: *pause* “Uhm… Number twelve.”
Me: “Thank you!”
(I then turn around on the spot facing my house, but still standing right next to the policeman.)
Me: *shouting at the top of my lungs* “Mum! Mum! He’s knocking at number twelve, mum!”
(I am at a theater production of ‘The Lion King’ with my parents and boyfriend. During intermission, a mother and young daughter are going to the restroom.)
Daughter: “But Mommy, there’s more! It’s not over!”
Mother: “Yes, it is. That’s the end. You have to imagine the rest in your head.”
Daughter: “No Mommy! Simba grows up!”
Mother: “No, you have to imagine the rest in your head.”
Daughter: “But, no Mommy. He grows up! He becomes king!”
Mother: “No, that’s the end. Just imagine the rest in your head.”
(They continue like this all the way to the restroom. I wonder how long the mom kept it up, and I can only imagine the girl’s excitement and surprise when the play actually did continue!)
