This story takes place when I’m maybe ten years old. My family is financially quite comfortable, especially my grandmother, who has come down from halfway up the country to visit. My brother and I have been taken by my mother, stepfather, and grandmother to a country pub, and when crossing the car park, I find a £5 note.

I am incredibly excited because we don’t get pocket money or the chance to get money for chores. Five pounds wasn’t much even about twenty-five years ago, but it is a big deal to me. In my excitement, I trustingly announce aloud what I have found.

Stepfather: *Demanding* “Hand over that fiver! I’ll hand it over at the bar.”

I’m initially reluctant.

Stepfather: “Whoever dropped it might really need it and it should be given back if possible.”

I understand this; after all, if it made me so happy to find it, so how sad must the person who lost it be? And how happy would they be to get it back? I’m sad not to keep it but hope it makes the owner happy.

My mother and grandmother claim a table outside while my stepfather goes inside to buy drinks and my brother and I go to check out the play area. When my stepfather comes back out with drinks, he announces, not intending for me to hear:

Stepfather: “This round is thanks to [My Name]!”

Looking back now, with the benefit of much greater awareness of what my parents were like and a lot less naivety, I would be shocked if it ever crossed his mind to hand it in at the bar. No, he saw that a child who had never had money of their own had found a little and decided it should be his, instead.

My doctor has filled out the paperwork for me to get a disabled placard. Today, I’m going to the tags place to have it notarized and sent off. I only have $3 on me, though, so I ask my husband to leave me $5 so I have enough when he goes to work.

I get up and go downstairs, looking for the money. I don’t see it. He comes home for lunch before my mother-in-law and I leave, and the following exchange happens.

Me: “Did you forget to leave me $5?”

Husband: “No, I left it where I normally leave it.”

I look around on the floor, thinking maybe the cats knocked it off. It’s nowhere to be found.

My husband asks my mother-in-law if she saw it.

Mother-In-Law: “Yes, I took it.”

We both told her that he’d left it for me for the tag place. She grew all indignant and said she needed money for lunch.

She gave it back to me, but what gets me is that when he leaves money for her, it’s by her spot. This was down at the end of the table where we sit. It was unbelievable.

I’m babysitting my younger siblings, who have all gone to bed, and I am in our family den watching “Rear Window” by Alfred Hitchcock. Our den has a set of double doors that are closed behind me. It’s the end of the movie, where the killer turns off the power in Jimmy Stewart’s apartment and is coming up the stairs. I’m leaning close, eyes wide at the screen, and the door flings open to reveal the killer when…

Dad: *Flinging the den doors open* “Hey, we’re home!”

I jump six feet in the air and scream bloody murder.

Dad: *Bewildered* “What?” *Sees the TV* “You’re not allowed to watch Hitchcock anymore.”

We are on a long family road trip, and my dad is driving and keeping himself occupied by making us groan to his ‘dad jokes.’

Dad: “What concert costs just 45 cents?”

Mom: “Here we go…”

Dad: “50 Cent featuring Nickelback!”

Cue the whole car groaning.

Dad: “My friend keeps saying “cheer up man it could be worse, you could be stuck underground in a hole full of water.” I know he means well.”

Me: “Dad… that’s enough.”

Dad: “Do you think glass coffins will be a success? Remains to be seen.”

Mom: “Honey, I think you need to take a nap. Let me drive a while?”

Dad: “Nope! I am guilty of resisting a rest!”

Me: “Staaaahp!”

It was a very long drive…

My grandmother is OBSESSED with NASCAR! The Daytona 500 is like a religious holiday for her and she spends the entire month before the race getting decorations and meals planned for the Daytona 500 weekend. It’s a bigger deal for her than Christmas and Thanksgiving are for most people. She also literally worships the late NASCAR driver, Dale Earnhardt, Sr., to the point of having a shrine to him in her house for almost twenty years after his death in 2001.

My husband and I are currently stationed in South Korea.

It is the day of the race and she decides to call me. Please note that South Korea is thirteen hours ahead of the east coast of the United States and I have been in bed sleeping soundly for the past five hours.

The phone rings.

Me: *Very sleepy* “Hello.”

Grandma: “It’s Grandma!”

Me: “Oh, my God! Is there something wrong with Grandpa?!”

Grandma: “No! Do you know what day it is?”

Me: “I think it’s Monday.”

Grandma: “No, it’s the Daytona 500! Why are you sleeping?! You should be watching it right now! Does the military not show the Daytona 500 in Korea?! I swear I will call my congressman if they don’t! They have no respect for Dale!”

Me: “They are showing it at the base club but I don’t feel like dragging myself there at three o’clock in the morning! I have an appointment at Yongsan Army Garrison in Seoul at eleven this morning; I have to leave by 8:30 to make my appointment time so I need to sleep.”

Grandma: “It is un-American not to watch the Daytona 500! You are really disrespecting Dale by not watching it!”

Me: “But it’s three in the morning! I don’t feel like crawling out of bed and walking across the entire base in the freezing cold just to watch a NASCAR race! It is too late to get a taxi on base, anyway.”

Grandma: “But this is the most important race of the season! Dale died in that race! You need to respect his memory by watching the Daytona 500 every year!”

Me: “Look, Grandma, I am really tired and I have a doctor’s appointment at Yongsan Army Garrison in Seoul later this morning. I don’t want to try to fight rush hour traffic in Seoul while I am overly tired. I’m going back to bed.”

Grandma: “But the Daytona 500 is the most important day of the year! You need to stay up and watch it! I am ashamed that you aren’t watching it! Dale is looking down from Heaven condemning you for not watching it!”

Me: “Whatever, Grandma. I really need to get back to bed.”

I ended up falling asleep, and when I woke up four hours later, my caller ID said that she had called me EIGHT times between then and seven am. My mom later emailed me to let me know that all my grandmother did was talk about how I should have been watching the Daytona 500 and that I was “lazy” to stay in bed! My grandmother actually wouldn’t talk to me for several months because she thought that I had “disrespected” Dale Earnhardt by not watching the Daytona 500!