I am at a zoo with my school to learn about the animals, and one of the volunteers asks if there are any questions. I can’t remember my exact question, but I say something about “cages.”
The woman goes very stern and says, “We say, ‘enclosures!’”
Guilty, much?
(My hubby and I are watching a family on on [Video Website]. They’re vlogging at their sister’s wedding. The vlogger is dancing with his sister during the father-daughter dance.)
Husband: “Why is he doing that?”
Me: “He walked her down the aisle.”
Husband: “Oh. One of those types of fathers?”
Me: “What?”
Husband: “The type of father that doesn’t come to their daughter’s wedding.”
Me: “I think the father is dead.”
Husband: “Oh, okay! That’s a good excuse.”
(We have just finished a test and we have started a new topic: probability. We are talking about complements, which are mutually exclusive events, and our teacher is telling us not to get confused with compliments.)
Teacher: “…so, never confuse your complements.” *walks up to me* “[My Name], your marks on the test were the highest in the class.”
Me: *getting excited* “What?!”
Teacher: *to class* “See? Don’t use that type of compliment.”
Class: “OOOOOOH!”
(I giggled a little, though I felt shocked and sad. Fingers crossed; I still might have gotten good marks on the test.)
(I’m working on an art project for my friend’s birthday. I have spent two days sketching out everything, and I’m ready to start inking it. It should be mentioned that I have liked art for a long time and have done my own research on how to make a presentable piece. Because I have spent so long sketching my poster, I am scared to start inking the poster, in fear of messing up all my hard work. My dad thinks he has better ideas, and suggests a few as he is walking by:)
Dad: “Just colour it in as-is! Then just add black paint and make it artistic or something.”
Dad: “Just scan it! Then colour it in on your laptop and print it out!”
(We only have an A4 printer and scanner, and we have very little coloured ink left.)
Dad: *as I’m finding a new fine-liner because the one I’m using is running out* “Why are you wasting your time? Just use this pen!” *holds out a dollar store pen that isn’t even black*
(Once I finish inking and start to rub out the lines and colour things in:)
Dad: “Why are you wasting the eraser? It’s fine; STOP RUBBING OUT THE LINES!”
Dad: “Why don’t you just give it to her in black and white?”
Dad: *as I’m doing characters from my friend’s favourite animes on the poster, the eye colour and outfits can’t be changed or they would be unrecognizable* “Eww, why are the eyes blue? Why can’t you make them brown?”
Dad: *snatches pencil and starts stabbing some scrap paper, effectively destroying the pencil* “You need to colour it in like this! Why are you making all of this so light?!”
Dad: *watching me draw a Pokémon* “Why is that so ugly!? Why is there a flower growing out its back?!”
(Thankfully, I was able to finish the poster without my dad destroying the poster.)
It’s a Friday night, and my dad has been really sick all week. It eventually gets to the point where he needs to go to the emergency room. Being a Friday night, the ER is relatively full.
Once he gets there, and speaks to the nurse, he is immediately given a wheelchair and taken straight through. The looks of disgust and just pure hatred he got from everyone in the waiting room was astonishing.
He had pneumonia, and had he arrived even an hour later, chances are he would have died.
Seriously, if someone is taken straight through at the emergency room, chances are their problems are probably worse than yours!
