My twin brother has always had a different mindset from the rest of the family. We eventually found out that it was a mix of autism and some Slytherin-esque cunning (taking things literally and trying to make opportunities from everything).

One Christmas Eve evening, as our mom was putting us to bed, I was talking about how it was hard to sleep when I was so excited.

Mom: “Well, you have to try. The sooner you fall asleep, the sooner the morning comes.”

Brother: “So, if one person decided to stay up all night, the morning would be postponed for everyone?” *To me* “Promise to give me half your presents, or I’m staying up all night.”

I cried. Mom admonished him while trying to explain what she really meant, but my brother kept countering, arguing, “Either I get half the presents, or I get none; the choice is his.”

He grew up to be a banker… Go figure.

I’m in the car with my mom and my young daughter. My mom is in the backseat having grandmother/granddaughter time.

My Mom: “[My Daughter’s Name], are you picking your nose?!”

My Daughter: “There’s a big one up there!”

My Mom: “Ask for a napkin next time! Let me get one from my bag!”

My Daughter: “Already got it. Woooow, it’s huge!”

My Mom: “That’s disgusting! Give me that! I’ll throw it with the napkin!”

My Daughter: “Nooo! I had it first!”

It’s November 1st, breakfast time with my three-year-old. Trick-or-treating was yesterday.

Three-Year-Old: “I. WANT. CANDY!”

Me: “How about some eggy pancakes and syrup for breakfast?”

Three-Year-Old: “NO PANCAKES. CANDYYYYYY!”

Me: “Okay. Don’t eat the pancakes. These are my pancakes.”

Three-Year-Old: “MY PANCAKES.”

Me: “That shouldn’t have worked that easily.”

A few weeks ago, mum and dad took us (my two younger brothers and me) to visit our grandparents in Kent. The highlight was when Granddad let us explore the attic and learn some family history. Among all the dusty boxes was Great-Grandpa’s old gas mask from the war.

Naturally, it was tried on several times, with dramatic groaning sounds and re-enactments.

Fast forward to today. As a household, we’re getting ready for a big family party. I’m inflating balloons in the living room when I see Mum walk past and go into the kitchen.

Followed by a loud scream.

I drop everything and come running, not sure what to expect. I see my mum, up against the wall, half laughing and half crying.

 At the counter in a full gas mask, facing away, methodically chopping onions with terrifying calm was my youngest brother. He’d ‘borrowed’ the gas mask somehow (we later found out he’d stuffed it in his backpack) and was now making good use of it.

Mum: “For a second there, I genuinely thought a World War Two ghost boy was haunting the kitchen and making himself useful!”

I’m cruising along a quiet suburban road one weekend with my mom-in-law, chatting about a bunch of things. My toddler is humming to herself in the back.

Suddenly, a car swerves ahead of me, cutting across two lanes to make a turn.

Me: *Muttering.* “Real genius move there.”

Before I can even finish the thought, a tiny voice pipes up from the backseat:

Daughter: “Ah, look at this f***in’ guy!”

The car goes dead silent. My mom-in-law slowly turns her head to look at her granddaughter, eyebrows raised.

Me: “So… [Husband]’s been doing the school run lately.”

My daughter smiles and kicks her feet happily. [Mom-In-Law] decides she will be having some ‘words’ with her son that evening.

Related:
Do NOT Say Anything In Front Of A Child You Don’t Want Everyone To Hear