Dyslexic Or Dys-lazy?

, , , , | Related | February 12, 2020

(It’s the day of my brother’s wedding and I’m helping some of my other family members with last-minute things. I end up working with my aunt, attempting to set up some of the drink dispensers with spigots.)

Aunt: “Hey, Mom? I need you to do this for me; I can’t figure out what I’m supposed to do.”

Me: “[Aunt], it has directions.”

(I’m thinking she lost the direction sheet, but I see it sitting right on the table next to us)

Aunt: “You know I’m too dyslexic to read this. Mom?!”

Me: “[Aunt], it has pictures!”

(She still called for my Mom-Mom to come and help her.)

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Christmas And Diabetes, A Match Made In… The North Pole?

, , , , , , | Related | December 18, 2019

When I was very young, I had all the clues but came to the very wrong conclusion about one of childhood’s hard truths.

1) My father, a diabetic, always had healthier snacks like veggie sticks.

2) We left healthy snacks out for Santa instead of cookies. Not carrots for the reindeer, but veggie sticks for Santa himself.

Now, instead of putting one and one together to get two, I instead realized that my dad was fat and Santa — from all the pictures I’d seen depicting him — was, too. My dad ate veggie snacks cause of diabetes related to his weight, and we left veggie snacks for Santa.

I then promptly decided that Santa had diabetes, instead of realizing there was no Santa and it was my dad putting out the presents. Upon telling my dad about this revelation years later, he started laughing and agreed that technically, I wasn’t wrong.

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I Hope It’s Not A Yellow Flavor

, , , , , | Working | December 15, 2019

(I’m working the register for our golf course with another coworker. We’ve hired a new assistant for our greenskeeper. He comes in with a golf club in one hand and half a Gatorade in the other.)

Assistant: “Hey, I found this outside. Can I have it?”

Me: *thinking he’s talking about the golf club* “If no one calls or asks about it in a month, we usually add it to our rentals.”

Assistant: “Oh, no, the Gatorade. I found it outside and wanted to know if I can have it.”

(I look at my coworker, whose jaw is practically on the floor.)

Me: “Uh, I wouldn’t recommend drinking it, but you can if you want to, I guess.”

Assistant: “Okay, great, thanks!”

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Definition Of Love: Sacrificing Pizza For Your Child

, , , , , | Related | August 22, 2019

(I have an unusual food allergy to a type of pepperoni that is used at a specific pizza chain. As a result of this, my family never gets pizza from that specific chain, and they buy a brand of pepperoni that’s safe for me to eat — a story on its own — for times we decide to make our own. This happens the first Thanksgiving after I move out, when I visit my family for dinner.)

Dad: “I just realized something.”

Mom: “What?”

Dad: “Now that [My Name]’s moved out, we can get [Pizza Chain we avoid due to my allergy] again!”

(Apparently, he’d been wanting that pizza for 20+ years!)

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Can’t Hold A Candle To His Mother

, , , , , | Related | August 10, 2019

This happened as my fiance and I were getting ready to move into our own place. 

His mother and grandmother were going through their old plates and other household items to show them to us to see if we’d be interested in taking anything with us. (No, not really, they had very different tastes than I do). 

One of the household items they unearthed was a set of depression-era candle holders. One pair was crystal, and the other was coin glass. They put them off to the side to put away later, and eventually, my fiance and I left. 

Later, they called him to accuse me of stealing a single holder from each pair. When they went to look, they were each missing one. 

As per my fiance’s suggestion, they checked the others they had left and realized that they had swapped them when putting them away. According to my husband, they never apologized for accusing me. 

And he wonders why I don’t get along with his mother.

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