It’s another Saturday in retail and, as usual, my store is crazy busy. I’m about an hour into my shift when a family comes up to my register: parents, toddler daughter in the cart, and older daughter — maybe six or seven — watching me with big eyes behind round glasses. She looks a bit like I did at her age, which amuses me, and the mom and I make pleasant small talk as I ring up their items while the dad keeps the toddler entertained. All in all, they’re nice people.

Me: “Are you interested in applying for a store credit card today?”

Mom: “No, thank you.”

Daughter: “Can I get a credit card?”

Me: “Oh, no, honey. You have to have a job to get a credit card.”

Mom: “That’s right. You have to be at least eighteen.”

Daughter: “Oh.” *Thinks about this for a few seconds* “But I don’t want to get a job, and I don’t want to be eighteen! I like my life!”

The parents and I burst out laughing.

Me: “That’s the best thing I’m going to hear all day. I need that on a T-shirt.”

I’m looking after my four-year-old nephew for the day. I have recently joined a new bank and have to pop in to sign some paperwork. The bank teller greets me and my nephew.

Teller: “Would you prefer to be addressed as Mr. [Last Name] or [First Name]?”

I’m about to respond when my nephew speaks up with a very serious look on his face.

Nephew: “That’s Uncle [First Name]!”

The teller and I look at each other and try really hard not to laugh.

Teller: “Quite right, sir!”

And that’s why everyone at the bank calls me “Uncle [First Name]”!

This happened back in the 1970s. I was nearly five and my little sister would have been about three. After growing up in London, we had just moved to a small town.

Mum was taking my sister and me on our first trip to the shops in this new town. My sister was in her buggy and I was walking by the side. As we walked over the crest of a hill, something flat and grey-blue came into view, although neither my sister nor I paid any attention to it until Mum asked us about it.

Mum: “Do you see that blue thing in the distance?”

Sister & Me: “Yes, Mummy?”

Mum: “Do you know what it is?”

Our guesses included a stream, a river, a pond, and a lake until, eventually…

Me: “Mummy, is it the sea?”

Mum: “Yes!”

Sister & Me: “Wow!”

When we were growing up in London, Mum and Dad didn’t have a car, so going to the beach was a very rare event — maybe once a year — so Sis and I were quite taken with this knowledge that we were near the coast.

That night, when Sis and I were in our rooms, Mum came to check that we were asleep and was quite surprised to see me awake. I was really worried.

Mum: “Are you all right?”

Me: “You know the sea, Mummy?”

Mum: “Yes, dear?”

Me: “Will it still be there tomorrow?”

I’m working at the jewelry counter at a big box store. My coworker is preparing to pierce a little girl’s ears.

Coworker: “So, who is this that is here with you?”

Lady: “I’m her aunt.”

Coworker: “And you’re her legal guardian?”

Lady: “Yes.”

Little Girl: *Happily* “My mom’s in jail!”

We have two small children, ages five and three. One morning, we are eating breakfast.

Three-Year-Old: *Quietly* “Mommy, are we going out today?”

Me: “Yes, we will soon go to kindergarten.”

The five-year-old slams their fist on the table.

Five-Year-Old: *Loudly* “Not again!”

The three-year-old gently puts their fist on the table.

Three-Year-Old: *Whispering* “Not again.”

Yeah, kids, I know the feeling.

For the record, the kids love their kindergarten and have absolutely no issues going there. They just hate waking up early to prepare for it.