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Funny stories about family

An Awkward Situation Becomes Exponentially More Awkward

, , , , , , , , | Related | November 8, 2021

I was asked by a lesbian couple to donate sperm for them so they could have a child. I was personally quite honored that they had chosen me and agreed to help with the promise I could visit their kids on occasion and play with them after the birth but with the understanding that I would not try to play the role of a “father” since the child would already have two parents. They didn’t want to go through the expense of a doctor visit, so we were doing artificial insemination at home without a doctor present.

The second or third month of trying, I came to visit them as usual for the donation. I did my regular playtime with their son for a while before finally heading into the bathroom to “do my part.” Usually, once I finish, I hand off my donation and immediately leave so my friend can go do her part immediately without worrying about wasting time on awkward pleasantries. I’ve already said my goodbyes to everyone ahead of time so I can make a quick exit.

This time, just as I came out and handed off the little container with my donation, there was a knock on the door. It turned out that my friend’s father had decided on a surprise visit. After stashing the donation in her room so he wouldn’t see it, my friend answered the door, and eventually, she introduced us.

Friend: “This is my father. Dad, this is our friend, [My Name].”

Father: “Oh, I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s really nice to finally meet you.”

I had honestly never thought to ask how much detail my friend had given her father about trying to conceive. I didn’t know whether her father was aware of the fact that I was donating sperm or if it was just the general stuff you would hear about a friend.

To make matters worse, the father then held out his hand to shake with me. I should point out that there are conflicting claims online that sperm being exposed to air for too long will harm the donation. I honestly think this isn’t an issue for the length of time it takes to hand it off, but just to be safe, I try to rush the donation to my friend after producing it, and amongst other things, that means I put off washing my hands after producing it until I get to my car and can use my hand sanitizer there. While I admit I’ve never been taught what the proper social etiquette is for meeting the father of the lesbian you’re trying to impregnate, I’m pretty sure that, given what I had just been doing in the bathroom, shaking his hand is not recommended.

Me: “Oh, sorry, I’d prefer not to shake hands right now, but it’s really nice to meet you, too.”

Father: “Oh, ’cause of [health crisis]? No problem.”

We were all vaccinated at this point. Considering I’d just been manhandling their son, roughhousing, tickling, throwing him on a couch, and dangling him by his toes, etc., I could hardly claim to have been the most cautious about the crisis; I thought our vaccination was sufficient protection. Still, this seemed as good an excuse as any for not shaking his hand, so I settled for a non-committal sound before my friend came to my rescue.

Friend: “[My Name] was just leaving, actually.”

Me: “Yeah, sorry to run so fast, but I really have to go to get home on time. It was really nice to meet you, though!”

With that, I fled like a coward, mentally wishing my friend good luck with figuring out how to handle her father’s visit while on a deadline to use the donation.

Thank Goodness Each Generation Moves Further From The Previous One

, , , , | Related | November 6, 2021

My mom is originally from a town in Tennessee where interracial relationships are generally frowned upon. It didn’t rest well with her when I started dating a fellow black student in one of my classes at a community college.

Mom: “I just want the best for you! This is gonna end badly for you, and I don’t want you to end up in jail, a single mother, or dead!”

I counter her to stop with her racial stereotypes.

Mom: “Okay, what about when he wants to go to Detroit? You know how dangerous it is over there?”

Me: “First off, he was born and raised here and doesn’t know a single soul in Detroit, and second, he’s commented several times that he’d never even stop in Detroit for a hot dog because of the deplorable state it’s in.”

Mom: “Or maybe vacation in Compton or Philadelphia…”

Me: “Are you being serious? Really?”

Mom: “Okay, here’s a serious one. No exaggeration. What if you get pulled over with him, the officer runs his name, and he has warrants. The officer searches him and finds a bunch of marijuana on him? Do you know that they can legally confiscate your car and charge you with conspiracy?”

Me: “First of all, he doesn’t even smoke cigarettes, let alone weed. Second, he’s trying to get into the military and you know they drug test all recruits and require a clean criminal history. Third, I didn’t see you disowning [Older Sister] when she got busted for possession a while back!”

Mom: “Okay, you said he’s going to school full-time right now. How is he supporting himself financially?”

I sense the “sponging off handouts” bait, since he uses grants, scholarships, and student loans, and I’m not about to fall for it.

Me: “The same way I do!”

Mom: “Has he shown you proof?”

Me:It’s none of my business! Did you run a full background check on Dad before you started dating him?”

Mom continues with more stereotypical babble.

Mom: “I just don’t want you to be labeled and ruined for life. No one anywhere will respect you.”

She goes on and on.

Mom: “My sister’s aunt’s best friend’s dog walker’s friend so and so married a black man. Word got around and she was passively fired from her job. I mean, do you want to go to your mailbox and find a letter stating you’ve been expelled from school? Or for every employer you apply with to see your Myspace and Facebook with the two of you together and automatically toss your resume in the shredder? I’m being serious here!”

And so on. This was back in 2010 before people seriously began confronting racism head-on, but it always mystifies me how someone could be filled with so much irrational bigotry and eat these persistent decades-old stereotypes like candy.

He and I broke up a year later for completely unrelated reasons, but my mom DOES know that it doesn’t change my position one iota.

It’s A Dog-Eat-Dog World, And This Kid Is No Help

, , , , , | Related | November 4, 2021

I’m eight years old. My mom and a friend are talking to each other.

Friend: “Did you see the news this morning? This pizza delivery man was making a delivery to a house in the sticks. His car got stuck and he got out to look for help, got lost, and ended up freezing to death. He left behind a wife and baby!”

Mom: “My God, that’s horrible!”

Me: “But did they at least get the pizza?”

Mom and her friend look at me in a mix of shock and near disgust.

Mom: “Yeah, that’s my son. Last week, I took our dog to the vet and almost got killed on the way back when my car hit some black ice and veered into oncoming traffic. I mentioned it when I got home, and he said he was glad I didn’t crash because he’d feel awful if the poor dog had died in the accident!”

I’m not so bratty as an adult; I learned to value people over pizza, but I can’t guarantee that I wouldn’t rescue the dog first before a person in a burning building.

Sergeant Sister Is Tenuous With The Terminology

, , , , , , | Related | November 2, 2021

My sister and I are watching some classic “Doctor Who.” In the scene we’re watching, the Doctor refers to another character as “Brigadier.”

Sister: “Brigadier! That’s such an awesome name! I’d like my name to be Brigadier!”

Me: “[Sister]… it’s a military rank.”

Mom Remembers Everything! Mostly.

, , , , , | Related | October 31, 2021

December is a very busy month for my family: it is the busy season at our family-run ranch, with Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve being our busiest days, as well as a total of six different birthdays happening throughout the month.

My mother is just getting off-shift when she approaches me.

Mom: “[My Name], did you get something for [Older Brother]’s birthday yet? It’s next week.”

Me: “I know.”

Mom: “And then it’s your birthday, and [Cousin #1], and then [Cousin #2] and [Uncle] are back to back days. I hope you got your shopping done already!”

Me: “I already got them things. How about you?”

Mom: “Oh, yes, I bought everyone’s presents months ago; you know me!”

Me: *Chuckles* “So, are you and Dad going out tonight or what? Just so [Brother] and I know to leave the gate open?”

Mom: *Raising an eyebrow* “What do you mean? Why would we be going anywhere?”

Me: “Because it’s December first.”

Mom pauses as she realizes what I’ve just said.

Mom: “Oh, s***!”

Me: “Did you seriously just forget your own husband’s birthday?”

She had.