(I start picking apples. My boss tells me my quota is four bins a day. It takes me around five days to get this fast. On day six he pulls me aside.)

Boss: “Hey, [My Name]! You’re fired. After a week you’re still too slow.”

Me: “But I’m picking four bins just like you asked.”

Boss: “I know, but I expect you to pick five bins.”

Me: “Why didn’t you just tell me this to start of with?”

Boss: “Because I need four bins picked per day.”

Me: “So if that’s the quota, what’s wrong with what I am picking?”

Boss: “It’s not enough. I expect five!”

(This goes back and forth a bit.)

Boss: “You are only meeting my expectations. I expect you to exceed what I expect.”

Me: “That doesn’t actually make sense…”

Boss: “You’re just too f****** stupid to understand, aren’t you!? F*** OFF!”

(At this point I decide it’s pointless arguing with him and walk out, hoping he gets what’s coming to him one day.)

(My eight-year-old daughter has been begging for a cell phone, and is jealous of her 11-year-old friend who just got her first cell, an older iPhone. My husband and I take them both to a local farm.)

Me: “[Friend], your phone’s falling out of your pocket; you should have left it in the car.”

Friend: “But I’m taking pictures of the kittens.”

Me: “I guess that’s reasonable.”

Daughter: “And her mom called her.”

Me: “Oh, why’d she call?”

Friend: “She just wanted to make sure we got here.”

Me: “Nope, we sold you to sea traders.”

(Everyone laughs.)

Daughter: “Mom? If we do sell her, can I have her phone?”

This story is part of our iPhone roundup!

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(I work at a barn as a stable-hand, and keep my own horse there. My daughter comes to the barn after school, and if she helps with chores, I give her riding lessons on my horse. A customer approaches me while I’m giving her a lesson.)

Customer: “Excuse me, but what do you think you’re doing?!”

Me: “Teaching my daughter how to ride.”

Customer: “Well, this is my daughter’s lesson time, and that’s her lesson horse!”

(I pull out the lesson schedule.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but there are no lessons scheduled for this time.”

Customer: “Yes, there is! Now you get that grubby child off my baby’s horse before I get the manager!”

Me: “I’m not going to tell my daughter that she can’t ride my horse.”

(The customer storms off, and comes back with the manager.)

Customer: “There she is! That b**** right there put her grubby child on my daughter’s lesson horse, and won’t leave the ring so she can have her lesson.”

Me: “I’ve tried to explain to you already that there are no lessons scheduled for the rest of the day. That’s my horse, and she certainly isn’t a lesson horse.”

Customer: “Do you hear how disrespectful she’s being? I demand you fire her for being so rude to me.”

Manager: “You want me to fire my best hand for letting her daughter ride her horse on her own time, when there are no lessons planned?”

Customer: “Yes!”

This story is part of the Farmer roundup.

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(My sister is eight and I’m four. We’ve grown up around horses, riding our dad’s since before we could walk. My oldest sister has just gotten a free pony after begging for her own for years. My dad isn’t happy but has agreed to keep the pony. It’s winter, just after a snowstorm, and my sister has been thrown from the pony into a huge snow pile. I’m laughing at her.)

Sister: “I’d like to see you do any better!”

Me: “Bet I can!”

(I get on the pony and she takes off, trying to get me off by turning sharp and getting almost too close to trees. She finally slides to a stop, causing me to lean forward, before rearing up and throwing me into a frozen water trough.)

Mom: “That pony’s sure got good aim.”

Dad: “Good. Now maybe they’ll stop asking us for pets.”

Me: “Daddy, I want a better pony!”

Dad: “D*** it!”

This story is part of our Horse roundup!

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(My father and his brother own an apple orchard that’s been in the family for close to 100 years. One day, I am going to run an errand, and my brother, one of our cousins, and their wives happened to be there.)

Cousin: “Are you taking the thing to place?” (Translation: Are you taking the van to the frozen storage facility?)

Me: “To get the stuff, yeah.” (Translation: To get the cider that’s been in storage, yeah.)

Brother: “Did they tell you that you have to flip the doo-dad?” (Translation: Did they (Dad and uncle) tell you that you have to flip the latch on the door to get it to catch when you close it?)

Me: “Yes, and Hidgegummy showed me how to use the whatsits to open the gizmo.” (Yes, and Dad showed me how to use the crowbar to jimmy open the rear door with the latch that is stuck closed.))

(Upon hearing all this, my cousin’s wife, her eyes huge, turns to my brother’s wife.)

Cousin’s wife: “Oh. My. God! The whole family does it!”

(Note: We know that the aphasia likely isn’t genetic since my cousin is adopted.)

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