Years ago, I made the mistake of coming up with a game where I let my niece ride on my shoulders and “drive” me by turning my head wherever she wanted me to turn. She enjoyed this a bit too much. Years later, she still begs to do this all the time, despite getting big enough that shoulder rides aren’t that easy to give anymore.

Because she is so big, her legs now start falling asleep if she stays on my shoulders for too long, so I try to make sure she takes walking breaks. This is solely because I’m a good uncle who doesn’t want her legs to hurt and not at all that my shoulders need a break — honest!

Me: “I think this car is running out of gas. Are you ready to get down?”

Niece: “Just a little more.”

Me: “Sorry, kiddo, you know how this works. I need you to take a break and walk a little.”

I get her down, despite her protests. She sort of starts walking on her own but slowly and acting a little odd.

Me: “You okay? Are your legs hurting already?”

Niece: “No, but I’m so tiny now.”

Me: “Huh?”

Niece: “You made me get down. Now I’m small.”

I suppose dropping to less than a third of your previous height would be an odd experience.

My friend’s sibling spent a lot of time hiding who she was because she was afraid people would not accept her as a woman — mostly, how her seven-year-old nephew would handle identifying her.

I got to sit in on the conversation where [Friend] explained what was going on.

Friend: “So, from now on, you say Aunt [Sibling]. Her name isn’t Uncle [Dead Name] anymore.”

Child: “Why?”

Friend: “Because that’s her name.”

Child: “But Uncle [Dead Name] is a boy!”

Friend: “No, Aunt [Sibling] is a woman.”

Child: “Oh.” *Pauses* “Can I change my name?”

Friend: “What do you want to be called?”

Child: “Umm… Fart!”

I admit I laughed. [Child] was thoroughly pleased with himself, while [Friend] gave me a good-humored glare.

Friend: “Okay, maybe we will wait to change your name.”

Child: “You can call me Fart!”

Friend: “Okay, that’s enough. Go play.”

Child: “Bye, Daddy Fart!”

Friend: “Oh, my God, what have I done? Now he’s going to tell everyone his name is Fart and I’m going to get called into a parent-teacher meeting.”

Me: “Well, at least he won’t get confused with the other [Child] in his class anymore.”

[Child] had no problem calling his aunt by her name, though convincing him that he could not call himself “Fart” took a lot longer.

A mother and her young son are checking out at my small convenience store. The little boy has seen the selection of chewing gum and wants some.

Mother: “No, [Son]. Those aren’t candies. You can have them when you’re older.”

Son: “But I want some!”

Mother: “No. You swallowed them last time, remember? You’re not meant to swallow gum. If you swallow too much, it will stay in your tummy forever and you’ll be all round from too much gum!”

With uncanny timing, a very heavily pregnant woman walks into the store. The boy locks eyes with her baby bump and then looks up at the woman.

Son: *Pointing* “I know what you’ve been up to!”

And with that, the mom shooed her son out of the store, abandoning their purchases.

My brother has been stubborn as a mule since the day he was born, often to his own detriment. My mother has learned that sometimes the only way to steer him away from something is to let him suffer the consequences.

My brother is quite young when a neighbor invites our family to spend the afternoon at their backyard pool. My brother can’t swim yet, so my mom has him on her hip as she stands in the shallow end.

Brother: “Mom? I wanna swim.”

Mom: “You don’t know how to swim yet.”

Brother: “Yes, I do!”

Mom: “You’ve had one lesson.”

Brother: “I can swim! I’ll show you!”

They continue to argue until my mom agrees to let him try to swim. He sinks like a rock. The second he hits the bottom, my mom bends down and picks him up.

Mom: “You can’t swim, honey.”

Brother: “Yes, I can!”

Once again, they argue until she agrees. This time, she lets him go and watches closely. Once again, he sinks like a rock. She waits a few seconds, watching his eyes get wider and wider under the water as he sits on the bottom.

Then, she bends back down and picks him up again. He takes a deep breath and blinks the pool water from his eyes.

Brother: “I can swim.”

Mom: “No, you can’t.”

Brother: “Let me try one more time!”

She does. He sinks. She watches his eyes get wider and wider. She scoops him up again.

Mom: “You can’t swim.”

Brother: “I can’t swim.”

My mother still tells this story whenever we go swimming with family friends — while my brother goes off and swims with the rest of us, without sinking to the bottom.

My coworker and I are helping a dad and his kid in our store. The kid is a cute little boy, probably no older than seven.

They finally whittle their options down to two products. The boy wanders around the store holding them, while the dad, my coworker, and I stand around chatting, waiting for the kid to pick one. 

Eventually, the kid comes back up to the counter and all but smashes his face into one of the boxes. 

Dad: “What— No, you don’t need to do that! What are you doing?”

Kid: “I was trying to smell it!”

Dad: *Pauses* “Why were you trying to smell it?”

Kid: “I was trying to smell if it was sus!”

Dad: “…”

Coworker & Me: “…”

My coworker has a better straight face than I do, and I absolutely lose it.

Me: “You can smell sus?!“

Dad: *Sighs* “That’s a big word in our house recently. Everything is sus.”

Me: *When I finally stop laughing* “Kiddo, how… how do you smell sus?”

The kid, not fazed at all, shrugs.

Kid: “I dunno.”

The kid then walks over to the wall and starts shaking his leg around. 

Dad: “Okay, what are you doing now?“

Kid: “I’m trying to open the box!”

All Of Us: “No! You have to pay for it first!”

They ended up buying one of the boxes, leaving my coworker and me (and probably the dad) with one of the strangest interactions we’d ever had.