I’m the author of this story, among other submitted shenanigans between my father and me, just to give some context to our relationship. I’ve recently purchased a house; my father and I are in the great room working on remodeling while my roommate is in the back bedroom painting.

Dad and I are passionately discussing various topics and, since we are not in public, the volume controls are off. We’re not yelling at each other, but we are definitely yelling to each other, despite standing side-by-side. I hear my roommate enter and, when he doesn’t move or speak for a few moments, turn to address him.

Me: “Hey, what’s up? Need help?”

Roommate: “No. It sounded like you two were fighting, so I just wanted to make sure everything was okay. I can’t tell whether you guys are ever actually angry at each other or not.”

Me: “Nope! No fighting! I appreciate your concern, though.”

Roommate: “Well, that’s good.”

Matter resolved, I turn back to what I was doing, and my dad and I immediately pick back up as if there had been no pause. However, I realize after a minute that my roommate is still standing there, so I turn again.

Me: “Everything okay? We can quiet down a bit if we’re being too distracting?”

Roommate: “Oh, no! Now that I know you’re not arguing, I was just enjoying the entertainment. I’ll get back to it, then!”

Dad: *Laughing* “We’re way cheaper than television!”

Related:
You Wood Not Understand

Dear readers,

Today is Sisters’ Day! This is a day to celebrate the bond you have with your sister, even if they’re annoying! Don’t have a biological sister? No problem! Most of us have someone in our life who has our back who is like the “sister we never had.” Either way, we’re sure you can find someone to share some positivity with today, but after you’ve enjoyed our 23 sister-themed stories from our archives first!

Only Periodically Interrupted – Sisters in arms: together they can achieve anything!

Finish The Endgame Before Phase Parenting Starts – Getting your priorities sorted!

Underaged And Overspoken – When you’re one day away from being a legal adult, you can still behave childishly for a few more hours!

(more…)

I am at a family reunion with extended family which, in my case, means people I don’t see at any other time except these reunions.

I am a rather introverted child, so I am sitting in a corner reading a book when my mother and another relative come up.

Mom: “[My Name], there’s a dance tonight. Do you want to go?”

Me: “No.”

Relative: “But it’s $5.00 for two, so if you go along, it’ll be cheaper than paying $3.00 for one person.”

Me: “No, it’ll cost $2.00 more.”

Mom: “No, it’ll be cheaper!”

The conversation derails into a debate about how it’ll be cheaper if I go along. Every time I point out that I don’t want to go, I get told that it’ll be cheaper, and the conversation loops through that again. Finally, frustrated with the circular argument, I give up.

Me: “Fine. If you want me to go, I’ll go.”

Predictably, I have no fun. I don’t dance, the music is too loud, I don’t know anybody there to talk to, and I’m not outgoing enough to try talking to people I don’t know.

The next morning, my mother corners me.

Mom: “Why did you go if you didn’t want to dance?”

My daughter is of kindergarten age and is invited to a birthday party. If you’ve been there, you know what nightmare they are. There are about twenty kids from the classroom, plus their parents and siblings, plus the birthday kid’s relatives and family friends. Cue over three hours of barely controlled chaos.

Needless to say, when it’s finally time to cut the cake, the ladies in charge of doing so are taking no nonsense: they hack away at the cake, slam the pieces on plates, and pass them to the nearest person that has a pair of serviceable hands.

My daughter, however, has picked just this moment to get finicky.

Daughter: “I want the corner piece with the candy flower.”

Me: “We can try, but the ladies are busy. Don’t be mad, okay?”

Unfortunately, she’s given a regular piece, instead. Tired and upset from the long afternoon, she decides to throw a fit. She starts crying so loudly, it catches the attention of the cake-cutting lady.

Cake Lady: “Oh, poor dear. What happened?”

Me: “She was after the corner piece.”

Cake Lady: “Oh, this one? That’s all right.”

Instead of swapping plates, the lady picked up the candy flower and planted it onto the piece on my daughter’s plate… sending her into another fit. I tried to console her but it was no use; she was holding her plate with white-knuckled hands, bawling uncontrollably at the injustice of it all.

Then, a passing toddler picked up the candy flower from her piece of cake, stuffed it in her mouth happily, and kept going. My daughter was so affronted she could barely breathe. There was nothing left to do at this point but laugh. I wish I’d had my camera ready.

When our first child is eight months old, we plan a family holiday to Fiji. Our daughter is too young to have her own passport so she has to be added to mine. My husband also needs to sign that he approves for her to go on my passport. This is to check that the mother isn’t planning to take the child overseas behind the father’s back.

This is considered such a serious concern that they follow up on the husband’s permission with a phone interview. Accordingly, my husband gets a call from the passport office in Canberra.

Interviewer: “Good morning, sir. We’re just following up on a passport application for your daughter. We need your approval to process it.”

Husband: “Yes, that’s all good. I’m fine with it; it’s a family holiday”.

Interviewer: “Very good, sir. Can I just confirm you are the child’s father with a few questions? Firstly, what is the child’s middle name?”

My husband’s family doesn’t do middle names. Mine does, so we used a traditional family middle name which he was fine with because he didn’t care either way. Unfortunately, he’s forgotten it!

Husband: “Um, I can’t remember, sorry.”

Interviewer: “Oh, okay. Well, next question, what is the child’s birth date on the passport application?” 

This is eight months after the birth. We have not yet celebrated a birthday for her, so while he knows it’s early [Month], he’s not really sure of the date. So he guesses… and he gets it wrong.

Interviewer: “Oooookaay! Final question, what is the mother’s maiden name?”

By this time, my husband is extremely flustered. It has not occurred to him that they mean his daughter’s mother — we’re still not feeling old and mature enough to be parents — so he hears the question wrong, and he knows MY mother’s maiden name, so he gives that.

That’s three out of three wrong.

The interviewer starts laughing.

Interviewer: “Well, sir. If this was a fraudulent application, you would have been coached better than that. Only a real father would get every question wrong. All good here, sir. Thank you. Enjoy your holiday!”

Since then, he has been much better with all the details.