(I am getting a shirt out of the laundry room and notice a bottle of Bloody-Mary mix next to the wash tub.)

Me: “Why is there bloody Mary mix in the laundry room?”

Dad: “Your mom heard that tomato juice gets skunk smell out.”

Me: “That doesn’t really answer my question.”

Dad: “The dog rolled in skunk smell, and we didn’t have any tomato juice.”

Me: “…so you washed her in Bloody-Mary mix?”

Dad: “Yes.”

(For the rest of the day, both parents kept asking me to smell the dog too, to make sure it ‘worked’.)

(My father and younger sister have just gotten home from the hardware store. My sister is 16, and very scantily clad. My sister walks into the kitchen.)

Dad: “Heck, could your shorts get any shorter? You’ll catch a cold. No wonder we were served so quickly today.”

(My 32 year old big brother is still living with our parents.)

Dad: “I wish we were sea turtles. Your brother would be dead by now.”

(I’m at my aunt’s house for thanksgiving. I’m listening to one of my uncles (who’s very right-wing) having a talk with his college-age daughter. They are discussing the US invasion of Iraq in 2003.)

Cousin: “What I don’t understand is, why we don’t just, like, take over the whole world? I mean, we’re America!” *laughs*

Uncle: *slightly taken aback* “Well, we could. But if we did, there would probably be a lot of fighting, and a lot of people would die.”

Cousin: “Oh!” *laughs again* “You know, you hear about wars all over the place. Except for Africa. Why don’t they ever have wars in Africa?”

Uncle: *even more taken aback* “Um…well, they do, actually.”

Cousin: *laughs again* “Oh! So, like, what do they do…throw spears at each other?”

(I gulp down the entire glass of wine in my hand, and go to get another large glass. I gulp that one down, too.)

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(I’m sick at college. In an effort to spare my roommate some of my misery, I wandered down to the study lounge. Unfortunately, not long after I got there, a couple decided that it was the perfect place to get intimate, and I rushed out.)

Me: *in a text to my mother* “And, the RAs aren’t doing anything about it!”

Mom: “Well, you could get a group of people to go in with scorecards and rate their performance!”