If Only Alice Or Rosalie Had Been So Kind

, , , , , | Related | July 24, 2020

My sister is pregnant with her first child and the subject of names comes up. I’m using fake names, but the real ones are similarly bad together.

Sister: “We were thinking we’d name him after his grandfathers, Leonardo and Harold, so Leonaharold.”

Me: “Not Leonardo Harold?”

Sister: “No, one word — Leonaharold. “

Me: *Faking excitement* “Oh! Just like Renesmee! From the Twilight books!”

Sister: “What?”

Me: “Yeah, that’s exactly how they named Renesmee! You’re going to have a little Twilight baby!”

Sister: “That’s not why I’m naming him that!”

The next couple of times I talked with her, I asked how my little “Twilight” nephew or my little Renesmee nephew was doing. By the time he was born, she had decided that maybe Leonardo Harold was a better choice after all. Your aunt’s looking out for you, kid.


This story is part of our July 2020 Roundup – the best stories of the month!

Read the next July 2020 Roundup story!

Read the July 2020 Roundup!

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So Much For Birth Control

, , , , | Healthy | June 6, 2020

CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

I’m a doctor working at the surgical emergency ward on a calm Saturday afternoon when a very large woman is brought in via ambulance. I’m wrapping up my last case at the computer but can hear her wailing from behind her curtain; we, unfortunately, don’t have separate rooms.

Another surgeon is with her within minutes.

Doctor: “All right, I’ve heard you called an ambulance for abdominal pain. Have you experienced similar symptoms before?”

Patient: “No! Help! Please, do something!”

Doctor: “Sure, give me just a minute. I need to find out the cause of your pain first to give you the right medication. Could you describe your symptoms a bit more in detail?”

Patient: “I have these cramps. They started early this morning and keep getting worse! Sometimes it’s a bit better but it keeps coming back! Oh, please do something!”

The doctor puts a hand on her belly, frowns, and then looks at her sharply.

Doctor: “Ma’am, is it possible that you’re pregnant?”

Patient: “Aaauuuugh! Ah… No… I don’t think so? I didn’t get my period for some time due to stress…”

The doctor motions for a nurse to get him an ultrasound.

Doctor: “Ma’am, when was your last period?”

Patient: *Winces* “I don’t know? Some months ago… December? No, earlier, I think.”

The nurse comes back with the ultrasound and the doctor finishes his examination. When he puts the probe on her belly…

Doctor: “Wow. I don’t usually get to see this, but it’s quite clear. See here? This is a head, and there’s the spine. With the periodic contractions you’re describing, I’m fairly sure you’re in labour.”

Patient: “What?! No! I can’t!”

Doctor: “Oh. I’m sorry; it seems I was wrong.”

Patient: “Praise the Lord. Don’t scare me like that!”

Doctor: “Sorry, that’s not what I meant. There’s another head. It’s twins.” *To the nurse* “Please inform the gynecologists and call a transport to get her to the labour room.”

Patient: “Noooooooooooo!” *Screams unintelligibly*

Not even half an hour later, we got a call from the gynecologists. It was two healthy babies, seemingly on term, and which blood tests did we already order?

I’m glad they were delivered safely and healthily, but judging by their mom’s reaction to her pregnancy… I can’t help but worry for their future.

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Mary, Mary, Contrary AF

, , , , , | Related | May 22, 2020

A few years ago, my mother, younger brother, and I lived with my great-grandmother while we were between houses. We would sit with her in the living room and read or watch television so that she wasn’t lonely. Her son who had lived with her had died, and she needed someone to “take care of.” We would cook her meals and clean the house.

Her daughter, Mary, lived next door. This woman was the passive-aggressive mother from sitcoms. She would come over and make snippy comments about lint on the floor or crumbs on the tablecloths.

One day, she started cursing me out because the blanket on the back of the couch was crooked. She would vacuum and sweep every time she came over and loudly boast about all the polishing, waxing, laundry, and mopping she had done at her house that day.

My brother and I are half-siblings — same mother, different fathers — so she would tell stories about meeting someone at church like, “She’s one of those kinds of women, you know? Where her kids have different last names than her.”

Once, her three-year-old grandson called me the N-word, only to be shushed by his father, and she would complain about “Messicans” that lived up the road. I put up with it because I loved my Granny and knew that she wasn’t going to be around much longer, as she was in her mid-nineties at the time.

My grandfather, one of Granny’s sons and Mary’s brother, handled her money. He left on a trip and went grocery shopping before he left. Four or five days after he left, Mary came over at nine in the morning and started b****ing and banging things around. “This table looks like there’s been a kindergarten class here!” Then, she opened the fridge. “You don’t have no milk at all? [My Grandfather] had a hunnerd dollars of grocery money but he didn’t get you no d*** groceries!”

Remember: my grandfather had gone shopping almost a week before this, and, with four people in the house, the jug was understandably near-empty.

Fed up, I stormed into the kitchen. “It’s. Just. Milk. You don’t have to scream at the top of your lungs! I’m done putting up with you!” I left the room with her telling me, “Your a** can go to h***!”

My mother called my grandfather and basically told him that his sister had lost her d*** mind and that he needed to come home. While we were packing, she found Mary in the kitchen and told her that we were taking care of her mother, when she lived thirty steps away, and that she had no right to insult me the way she had for the past year.

Mary started banging a broom handle on the kitchen table, beginning to brag about times she had bought Granny apple juice or chicken dinners, “at my expense! at my expense!” in an effort to change the subject.

Mary, if you or anyone in your family ever reads this, f*** you. F*** your racist, homophobic, xenophobic, bigoted child and grandchildren. I am so much more than any of you will ever be.

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Still A Dangerous Question

, , , , | Healthy | May 22, 2020

I’m at the doctor’s. One of the nurses is obviously very pregnant.

Me: “So, when are you due?”

Nurse: *Stares daggers at me* “I’m not pregnant.”

Me: “Nice try, but I heard you talking to the other nurse about being pregnant.”

Nurse: *Smiling* “Dang.”

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Parenting May Make You Cry

, , , , , | Related | May 18, 2020

My niece takes a class in high school where you’re given a robotic baby that cries and records when you feed it, change it, turn it off, or whatever. For the most part, the baby is really easy. On the last night, however…

It’s around two in the morning. My mom and I are both night owls, so we go to the kitchen for a snack. My niece is still awake, and it’s a school night… and the robot baby has been crying for hours.

Niece: “This isn’t like a real baby! Real babies go to sleep!”

My mom and I start laughing.

Me: “You’ve never heard of colic?!”

Mom: “Your father didn’t stop crying or sleep through the night for two years! And I had to take your brother twice a week so your mom could get some sleep since he was making her sick with exhaustion!”

Four years later, my niece got married and had a baby. The baby is a year old and still hasn’t slept through the night. I guess real babies don’t stop crying, either!

He doesn’t cry all day and is super adorable. He just doesn’t sleep through the night.

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