I am an avid collector of “Transformers” figures. My best friend and roommate’s son, who is five, frequently comes down to the basement to gaze in wonder at the ever-growing robot army. Optimus Prime is his favorite character, and he knows exactly what Optimus normally looks like, so when he notices an Optimus figure I have that isn’t red, blue, and white as Optimus typically is, he becomes curious.

Roommate’s Son: “Why is that Optimus the wrong colors, and why are his eyes red?”

The figure he’s referring to is Optimus Prime from a series called “Transformers: Shattered Glass”, which effectively reversed the factions, so the Autobots were evil and the Decepticons were the heroes. As such, this particular Optimus Prime — an evil version of himself — is light gray and dark purple and has red eyes, whereas Optimus’s eyes are usually blue or occasionally yellow.

Me: “Because that Optimus is from a series where Optimus wasn’t a good guy.”

Roommate’s Son: *Suddenly distressed* “OPTIMUS PRIME WAS AN A**HOLE?!”

You know that age where children have just learned how to read, and, being so proud of their new skills, will read everything and anything they see around them out loud? I am window shopping one day and hear a squeaky voice quite near me. I look up and see a little boy around six or seven years old.

Little Boy: “S-t-op… STOP!”

The boy’s father, who’s holding his hand, responds.

Father: “That’s right, son; that says ‘stop’. It’s called a stop sign, and it means that every car and bicycle coming from that street needs to stop first and really look closely before they can cross the street.”

Little Boy: “S-e-x-s-hop. Sex-hop? Daddy, what’s a sex-hop?”

Father: *Completely unfazed* “That’s a shop. A place for grown-up people where they can get videos and booklets of naked people.”

Little Boy: “Why?”

Father: “Sometimes people enjoy looking at other naked people. It makes them happy.”

Little Boy: “Do you like that?”

The boy’s father thinks about it.

Father: “Mmmmm… Not so much. I like looking at your mummy when she’s naked. Or dressed. I like looking at your mummy very much. Most of those people in the videos and booklets aren’t as pretty as she is.”

Little Boy: “That could be true. Mummy is very pretty, after all.”

And on their merry way they went, happily chatting and reading everything out loud.

I work at a restaurant. It’s a typical night, kind of slow. I get a table with a father and his kid.

Me: “Hey, how are y’all doing?”

Customer: “Good, thanks.”

Me: “Good! What can I get you to drink?”

Customer: “A [soda].”

Me: “Sounds good. I’ll go grab that and be right back.”

Kid: “Lift up your skirt, please.”

I was a little stunned, but mostly I was trying my hardest not to lose my s*** laughing because it was the dad I was talking to the whole time and that was the first thing out of this seven-year-old’s mouth.

I know that sounds bad, but for one, I’m a dude, and two, the kid meant my apron. My coworker took over the table because it was a buddy of his, and he told me the kid said that because he served them all the time and kept candy for the kid in his pocket, so that’s what the kid wanted.

It’s kind of a cute thing but a really funny thing to be able to say I’ve had a customer ask me to lift up my skirt.

When I was around second grade, my church put on a Christmas play involving every child in Sunday school, telling the story of Jesus’s birth. I was cast as one of the three wise men, and our role was to stand in front of the mics, look up at the ceiling, and comment on the Star of Bethlehem. In order to prevent us from looking in three different directions, we were told beforehand to look in the direction of the ceiling fan. Unfortunately, I had no idea where the fan was in the nave, especially in the darkened room.

Wise Man #1: “Wow, look at that star!”

Wise Man #2: “That star is shining so bright!”

Me: “What could that star mean?” *Pauses* “Where is that stupid star?”

My mom told me afterward that all the adults around her thought it was adorable, which totally made up for the other kids telling me their parents were recording the play and I blew their big moment.

My sister is a couple of years younger than me. As you’d expect, when we were growing up, there was a fair amount of brother/sister rivalry, with all the shouting and arguing that goes with it, as well as pointing the finger of blame at each other.  Over time, we did grow out of it, but it did take a while. Me moving out to go to university probably helped somewhat.

One Sunday recently, we were having our family meal. The conversation had turned to nostalgia, and Mum was telling us about a time when she and Dad were in the kitchen, and I came toddling in. I apparently told them that the Christmas tree had fallen over; incredibly, they hadn’t heard it.

So, they went in, and sure enough, the tree was lying on the ground. Amongst all the mess were all the wrappers from the chocolates that were originally hanging on the tree. It was then that they noticed that my hands were incredibly sticky and my mouth was a lot browner than it should have been. The chocolates were a mixture of human and doggy chocolates, as some were intended for the dog.

Mum: “We have no idea whether you ate all the chocolates, [My Name], or if you shared them with [Dog]. We also don’t know whether you or [Dog] got the right chocolates. Fortunately, neither of you were poorly! Also, we have no idea whether it was you or [Dog] that knocked the tree over, but you certainly waited before you let us know!”

Me: “You keep saying that it was knocked over by me or [Dog], but how come you never pointed a finger at [Sister]? It could have been her!”

Mum: “Because she hadn’t been born yet!”

With that, [Sister] burst out laughing.

Sister: “See?! He even tries to get me in trouble for things that happened before I was born!”

From then on, it became a running joke about me trying to make her guilty of things she couldn’t possibly have done.