A Foreign Concept Being A Foreigner

, , , , | Related | October 13, 2018

(My elderly grandmother has just returned home from the DMV after passing her driving exam to renew her license, and is telling me about the experience.)

Grandma: “—and it was just so full, so many people!”

Me: “Well, it is the DMV.”

Grandma: “Yes, but there were just so many foreigners!”

Me: “I— What?”

(This caught me off guard because my grandmother immigrated here from Germany.)

Grandma: “I said, ‘There were so many foreigners.’”

Me: *now laughing* “Including you!”

Grandma: *clearly not expecting that response, but chuckling along as she realizes I’m right* “Well, I… You know what I mean!”

(I guess she’s lived here for so long that she forgets.)

I’m A Complete Lesbozionist

, , , , , , , | Related | October 4, 2018

(It’s my 18th birthday party, just after I’ve officially come out of the closet to my family. It is snowing outside, which means the rest of my family is surprised when my grandfather and step-grandmother arrive, as they NEVER go out in the snow. It soon becomes apparent why when my step-grandmother asks to speak to me in private. She tells me that she and my grandfather heard about my “decision” and she wants me to reconsider. She and I have never been even a little bit close, but I make the mistake of humoring her for over an hour. She tells me about how hard it was for her to have a lesbian daughter, and how wonderful it was when she then came back to the Mormon church.)

Step-Grandmother: “And I had to work very hard to speak frankly with my daughter about her… um… lesbozism.”

(Suddenly it felt like my soul had left my body as I contemplated the word “lesbozism” until she stopped talking. Needless to say, she didn’t convince me, and years later my friends and I still speak of “lesbozism,” and its practitioners, “lesbozoos.”)

Sweet, Sweet Parenting

, , , , , | Related | September 27, 2018

(I come out from the back room of my store to find a woman lecturing a teenage boy for eating a candy he hadn’t paid for. She’s chewing his ear off, so as far as I’m concerned, the situation has already been handled. However, she comes up to the register to pay.)

Me: “You’re his mother?”

Woman: “Grandmother.”

Me: “Don’t worry about paying. Just tell him to call his mother and apologize.”

Woman: “Call his—?”

(She looks confused for a moment, and then narrows her eyes and nods sharply, turning to herd him out of the store.)

Woman: “She said we don’t have to pay if you call your mother and apologize, so call your mother!”

Boy: “Wait… What?”

Woman: “Call. Your. Mother. And. A. Po. Lo. Gize!”

(It’s a line I toss out every now and then when I catch kids filching, but I never really expect them to do it, so hearing his grandmother enforcing it was pretty satisfying.)

Undeath At A Funeral

, , , , , | Friendly | August 30, 2018

(My grandfather is the youngest of seven siblings. He and his oldest brother look very much alike and even have nearly the same voice, but they are fifteen years apart in age. However, as they grew older, the differences in their appearances became smaller and smaller. Fast forward 70 years: the oldest brother dies and my grandfather attends his funeral. A lady he has never seen before enters the church and spots him in the front bench with the other siblings. She goes white as a sheet and marches right up to him.)

Lady: “What are you doing here?!”

Grandfather: *confused* “I’m attending the funeral?”

Lady: “No, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in there!” *points at the coffin* “You’re supposed to be dead!

Grandfather: “Ah, no, you see, I’m–”


(And with that, she stormed out of the church, never to be seen again.)

I Am Me

, , , | Related | August 22, 2018

(My maternal grandmother and my mother look very much alike, to the point that they are sometimes mistaken for each other. One day, it leads to this gem.)

Woman From Church: *to my grandmother* “Hello, dear, and how is your mother?”

Grandmother: *realizing she’s been mistaken for my mother* “I am my mother!”

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