Hungry Never Forgets

, , , , , | Related | March 12, 2018

(This happens when my brother is four or five years old. We have a rule that it’s okay if you don’t want any dinner, but you won’t be getting anything else until the next morning.)

Mom: “Guys, dinner is on the table.”

Little Brother: “I’m not hungry.”

Mom: “[Little Brother], please eat something, or you’ll be hungry later.”

Little Brother: “No. I don’t want to.”

Mom: “That’s fine. Just wash up and get ready for bed, then.”

(In about twenty minutes:)

Little Brother: “Moooom, I’m hungry. Make me something, please.”

Mom: “No, sorry. You’ve had your chance. You’ll have breakfast in the morning.”

(After a little crying and pleading he goes to bed. Fast forward a few weeks later, when our grandfather comes to visit and stays with us for a few days:)

Mom: *to grandfather* “Dad, are you hungry? I can make you something to eat.”

Grandfather: “No, thanks, honey. I ate before I left home, and I’m not that hungry.”

Little Brother: “Pop, you’d better eat, or she will make you go to bed hungry.”

Psychic Like The Night King

, , , , , , | Related | March 12, 2018

(The local schools are being dismissed early due to bad weather. As soon as they let out, I call my sister to make sure she’s actually taking the bus home, since she usually walks, no matter what the weather is like outside.)

Sister: “How did you know that we were getting out early?”

(I look outside the window. If the blizzard raging outside were any worse, there’d be White Walkers hanging out in the driveway.)

Me: “I’m psychic.”

Get The [Beep] Out

, , , , , | Related | March 11, 2018

(I am 12, and I have scoliosis. This causes the spine to bend in unnatural ways and can even lead to full paralysis. I am lucky; my doctors catch it at an early curve, and I am moved to a specialized hospital where I undergo corrective surgery. Much of the family comes to visit, some of whom I’m not a fan of, specifically my older brother. During my time in the ICU just after surgery, I am hooked up to a press-button mechanism which delivers pain-killing meds to my system with an audible beep. While in the ICU I am constantly exhausted, surrounded by family and being annoyed by nurses and doctors. One day, I’ve had enough. I’ve been suffering traumatic nightmares and hallucinations, which leaves me spiteful, this morning especially. I have also forgotten that the machine which gives me medicine has a tendency to beep. My family walks in, led by the head nurse.)

Nurse: *gently* “[My Name], wake up; your family’s here!”

Me: *groans and glares at family*

My Brother: *teasingly* “So, [My Name], how are you feeling today?”

Me: *glares some more, presses button*

Machine: *BEEP*

Me: *startled and confused* “Huh?”

My Family: *laughs*

Dad: “Well, I guess that answers that question!”

(I couldn’t help but laugh, myself.)

Should Have Used The “F” Word

, , , , , | Related | March 10, 2018

(Even though I’m a sophomore in high school, I like to plan ahead and save for anything — in this instance, college. There is a well-known application high school seniors and college students have to fill out to be eligible for student aid. I’m trying to remember the cost of that application — at 10:30 at night.)

Me: “Hey, Dad? How much does the FAFSA cost?”

Dad: “Eh… I don’t know.”

(I go upstairs to my mom.)

Me: “Hey, Mom? Do you know how much the FAFSA costs?”

Mom: “No, honey. Why?”

Me: “I want to figure it ou– Oh, my gosh.”

Mom: “What?”

Me: “I just remembered what the cost is. FAFSA stands for the FREE Application for Federal Student Aid. Oops.”

Mom: *starts laughing at my “moment”*

Me: “Can you tell I’m tired?”

Barking Up The Right Tree All Along

, , , , | Related | March 9, 2018

In elementary school, a project is assigned to create a family tree.

I do not have a dad, but I don’t want to leave that side blank like a classmate does, so I put my mom’s best friend, who is also a babysitter and everyone’s “second momma.” She always tells me I’m her favorite kid. My teacher thinks it’s cute.

Fast forward to when I am 18. Mom and “Second Momma” have something important to tell me. They bring out that family tree I drew; I am shocked they’ve kept it. As it turns out, my “Second Momma” really is my second momma; that is, they are a couple, but not legally married. Her being a babysitter gave the perfect excuse when everyone called her Momma.


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