(My grandparents live about three-quarters of a mile out of town on a county highway with a speed limit of 55 mph. I’ve been studying my drivers’ manual and getting ready to take my road test to get my license in a few weeks. I am riding with them on the way to their farm.)

Grandpa: “You don’t need to drive that fast, especially when you’re first starting out with your license. Take our road, for example. There is no reason you should even get to 55 miles an hour if you’re coming to our house from town.”

Grandma: *under her breath* “Wanna bet?”

(My wife and I get married in a very small, very informal ceremony and reception; we have maybe 75 guests total and we pay probably the equivalent of a ten-year-old Honda entirely by ourselves. For at least a year afterward, my parents harangue me about friends of theirs whom I tangentially knew and didn’t invite. After I’ve had enough, this conversation happens.)

Me: “You know [Wife]’s dad wasn’t at the wedding, right?”

Parents: “That doesn’t count because he was in the hospital.”

Me: *ignoring that* “So, are your friends as important as [Wife]’s dad?”

Parents: “What does that have to do with anything?”

Me:*again, ignoring their response* “Because if they’re as important as the father of the bride, they can go ahead and be upset. If not, I don’t care.”

(My mother makes the mistake of offering to pick up a lady from one of her church groups. From then on, the lady pretty much expects to be picked up and dropped off for their group and for church on Sundays. Dad is getting a bit fed up.)

Dad: “Can’t [Lady] get someone else to pick her up?”

Mum: “Oh, come on. We drive right past her house.”

Dad: “Yeah, I know. I’d just like to get to and from church without being farted at.”

Me: *laughing* “Farted at?”

Mum: “Yeah, she always leaves with what we call a ‘parting fart.’”

Dad: “It’s not funny! She has to sit in the front seat and it gets aimed at me every time, and then I have to lean into it because she won’t shut the door properly.”

Mum: “It’s not just you; I get it on Tuesdays!”

(About a week later, I am coming back from church with my Dad. He’s taking the lady home and, true to his word, she farts as she gets out of the car. I instantly wind my window down.)Dad:*winds my window up* “Nope, you can suffer, too. Next time you won’t laugh at me.”

(This takes place when I am fourteen years old. My father has full custody of me, and for good reason. I’m visiting my mother, and she and her boyfriend take me to the mall with them. I’m a huge lover of animals and always want to stop in at the local pet shop that has puppies and various other critters up for adoption. All the animals, except for puppies, are kept in unlocked cages so that customers can handle the animals, so long as they’re 18 or older. I can’t wait until I am old enough. I stand by as my mother lifts a ferret out of its cage, and I start petting it along with her.)

Mom: “Oh! You’re so cute! I wish I could take you home.”

Mom’s Boyfriend: *laughs* “Do it. Just stick it in your purse.”

(It’s obvious that he’s joking, but my mother does a quick look around and really does shove the ferret into the large purse she’s carrying!)

Me: *completely shocked, but keeping my voice down* “Mom!”

Mom: “Come on; it’s time to leave.” *starts heading for the exit*

Me: “You can’t!”

Mom: “Shh! Let’s go.”

(I glance at the employees, but they’re all busy. I’m about ready to shout and cause a scene, until a conversation I had with my father just a few weeks ago pops into my head and I can practically hear him shouting, “We don’t turn in family!” At the time, he was referring to some issues with my cousin stealing from us, because he is not a fan of involving the police. As I am now, I’d make sure my mother was caught for this, but at fourteen, I don’t. I storm off ahead of her and make sure she knows I am angry about it. A huge fight ensues, during which I hear some great gems from her.)

Mom: “Do you want me to turn it back in and get caught? Do you want me to get arrested? If that happens, I’ll never get your sister back.”

(My half-sister — not my father’s daughter, just to clarify, as people have asked why he didn’t have custody — was taken by CPS just a couple months ago.)

Me: “If you want to get her back, how about not breaking the law?! This is why they took her from you in the first place!”

Mom: “You’re judging me the same way your aunt judges you!”

Me: “My aunt judges me because I dress like a goth, not by what I do!”

Mom: “Well… Because of the way you dress, she thinks you do bad things!”

(I stopped arguing with her, because I figured that if a fourteen-year-old could see the major hole in that defense, there was no point in explaining it to an adult. My mother continued on with her own tirade, though, during which she took the cell phone from me when I tried to call my father to explain why I needed to come home early and announced that this must be the end of our relationship. Sadly, it wasn’t. I put up with her for several more years before I finally cut her out of my life for about a decade. Now that I’m thirty and better able to handle her, we’re speaking again on a superficial basis, mostly to help myself to move on from some unresolved issues and anger I’ve had towards her. And by the way, I’m pretty sure she’s the reason why that pet shop now has locks on all their cages.)

(My cousin recently got engaged but her mom is not very happy about it. My future cousin-in-law has tattoos and piercings. My aunt is… old-fashioned, you could say. This happens when we’re having a family BBQ to celebrate the engagement.)

Aunt: *to my father, who is supervising the grill* “Ugh, what does she see in that boy?”

Dad: “What are you talking about?”

Aunt: “That pierced brat who seduced my sweet angel.”

Dad: “Sis, please don’t be one of those people. He’s a very charming young man.”

Aunt: “How is that charming?”

(She points at my fiancé who is showing us his newest tattoo)

Aunt: “Why couldn’t she find a nice, God-fearing boy? I doubt he even knows what a Bible looks like; if he did he probably wouldn’t look like a heathen.”

Dad: *loud enough for everyone to hear* “[Aunt], I’ve never had a problem with your beliefs before, but now I think I’ve had enough. You’ve become really fanatical and obnoxious lately.”

Aunt: “How dare you!”

Dad: “Let me put it this way. One: the Bible is thousands of years old and has been translated and retranslated so many times, who knows what it originally said? Two: as far as I’m aware, the Bible is against mutilating your body and demonic symbols. His tattoos are beautiful and meaningful to him; I actually listened to the stories behind them. And three, we’re eating hamburgers, your dress is cotton and lace, you’re wearing jewelry, and both I and your husband have shaved our beards. Do I have to rephrase all that in order for you to understand? “

(My aunt stayed quiet for the rest of the day. My uncle later confessed to me that this was the event to finally convince him to get a divorce.)