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Give That Sweet Puppy Anything They Want!

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: I_am_also_a_Walrus | May 21, 2022

I’m serving in a restaurant and I approach a table to take an order. A little kid at the table speaks up.

Kid: “I have a question. The Bailey’s cheesecake — is that for dogs? Because our dog’s name is Bailey.”

They pointed to the puppy sleeping in Dad’s lap. Awwww!

Boring Sermon? Larry-Boy To The Rescue!

, , , , | Friendly | May 18, 2022

A popular Christian kids’ video series once portrayed the story of David and Bathsheba — a Bible tale about adultery and murder — in the form of a greedy king who wants other people’s bath toys. 

My church choir is sitting up in the loft listening to the preacher get going about the need for forgiveness.

Preacher: “But why would King David need forgiveness? Isn’t he one of the Lord’s anointed ones? Well, let me remind you of the time that David went up on the roof of his palace. He looked out across the rooftops, and he saw something he should not have seen.” 

Me: *Quietly* “Rubber ducky.” 

And that’s how I caused the entire soprano section of my choir to nearly suffocate themselves laughing in the middle of a prayer service.

Nothing Fishy About This Pirate At All!

, , , , , , | Right | May 2, 2022

The hotel kitchen I work in is partially open-plan, meaning people in the restaurant can look in. When it’s not lunch/dinner service time, the restaurant is closed up but not locked since hotel guests need to pass through to get to the courtyard if they want something from our cafe area.

During one of these closed times, another chef and I are prepping food when a young man with his little daughter comes in. The girl is wearing a pirate hat, eyepatch, and the typical blue-and-white-striped marine shirt and neckerchief, and she’s carrying a wood toy saber.

Dad: “Hi, sorry to bother you. Can we ask you a question about the menu?”

Me: “Absolutely!”

Dad: *To his little pirate* “Go on. These are the cooks. They’ll know.”

The little pirate, hiding behind her dad’s legs, stares at us and then grins and shouts in her loudest, most “gruff” voice:

Little Pirate: “WHAT’S THE CATCH OF THE DAY?!”

I had to resist laughing very hard, while the other chef ducked down to hide his giggles. I told her the catch of the day was salmon trout, but the fish fingers on our kids’ menu were also fresh from the sea, wink-wink.

The little pirate, now dressed as a normal little girl, was very happy with her fish fingers when her family came in for dinner.

Which Is Cuter: The Gecko Or The Kiddo?

, , , , , , | Right | February 28, 2022

I work at a camp petting zoo every year. The kids are (for the most part) awesome, and the youngest ones are particularly prone to hilarious and/or adorable statements. The following gem made my summer.

I took out a leopard gecko.

Five-Year-Old: “I know what that one’s called! It’s a leprechaun!”

Everyone Is Someone’s Hero

, , , , , | Related | January 2, 2022

I’ve been having a really bad day, though not for any particular reason. I’m just in a grump. I’m still in a grump when my little sister comes home from primary school. She wants to tell me something, and even though I’m not in the mood, I do my best to not get frustrated while trying to understand her. 

Talking is difficult for her due to a multitude of health issues, so I’m leaving out the back and forth of figuring out what she is saying and just typing what she wanted to say.

Sister: “We had to write about our heroes in class today.”

Me: “Oh, dear, I hated doing that. Could you think of anyone to write about? I could never think of anyone.”

Sister: “No, I thought of a person.”

Me: “Good for you.”

Sister: “Will you read it?”

Me: “Now?”

She starts getting something out of her bag.

Me: “Ah, uh, well… I’m not really—”

Cue disappointed puppy-dog eyes.

Me: “Erm, maybe after dinner? My eyes are a little, uh, tired right now is all.”

Sister: “Okay!”

I muddle my way through cooking and eating dinner, not looking forward to the effort reading her handwriting is going to be — not that mine is any better. I’m just being a complete butthole about it.

After we’ve eaten, she brings me her exercise book.

Me: “You want me to read this out loud, or am I okay to just read it in my head?”

Sister: “That’s fine.”

I begin to read.

Book: “My hero is [My Name].”

I pause. That can’t be right. I reread the first sentence. She can’t possibly mean me. Who is this other person who has my extremely rare name that she has met and thinks is her hero?

Book: “[My Name] is my sister.”

I look up at her.

Me: “Me?”

My sister nods vigorously, and I return my attention to her book. I read compliment after compliment about how she thinks I’m smart, about how I make her laugh, and about how grateful she is for me looking after her. And as I read these words that don’t feel true to me, I’m crying with a hand clamped over my mouth to stop the noise.

When I finish, I look up at her. She looks concerned, probably because I’m really not supposed to be crying over this.

Me: “Cuddle?”

It was a good cuddle.