(I am in a group chat with my aunt who resides in Australia with her family, my mum, and my grandmother, who used to be a nurse back in the day. We are all close and have a great sense of humour. All this happens over text. My aunt has just told us her two sons are sick with Influenza B, and recounted an amusing story, during which her younger son was acting up due to his sickness, and his older brother whispered, “So much drama.” )

Grandma: “I would love to have been there to witness all that!”

Mum: “I’m bleeding to death. My period is so heavy. Do you want to witness that, too, Mum?!”

Grandma: “You think I’m crazy?!”

Mum: “Why are you playing favourites? Why is drama cute when [Aunt’s Youngest Son] does it, but not me?”

Grandma: “Because one is a kid, and one is a matured lady, I hope!”

Mum: “I’m still bleeding to death, just in case you decide to care!”

(As this is going on, I’m quickly searching up some information online and find what I need.)

Me: “You’re losing five pints of blood?”

Mum: *eye roll emoticon* “Maybe four.”

Me: “You mean 1892 ml of blood? When the average heavy flow is 65 ml?”

Mum: “Yup.”

Me: “Twenty times more than the normal ‘unusually heavy’ flow?”

Grandma: “Just drink lots of fluid to maintain the body volume.”

Mum: *sighs* “Don’t see you telling [Aunt’s Youngest Son] to drink lots of fluids!”

Me: *copying a comment from earlier in the chat* “‘Hope the boys get well soon. Make sure they drink enough.’ Actually, she did.”

Grandma: “Ignore your sister, [Aunt]. She’s just being silly.”

Mum: “Dying is not being silly!”

Grandma: “Yes, it is, when it’s merely lip service.”

(My wife and I are getting ready for bed. She’s been suffering from her allergies, stuffed up really bad. This night, it’s considerably worse than others. I do not condone violence; all of the following is said in jest.)

Wife: “Honey, I’m sorry if I snore too much tonight. If I get too bad, please—”

Me: *interrupting her* “Smother you with a pillow so I can sleep. Got it.”

Wife: “No! Just s—”

Me: *interrupting her again* “Right, smother you with a pillow. No worries.”

Wife: “No! Just roll me over!”

Me: *kissing her on the forehead* “Roger. Pillow, face, smother. Love you. Goodnight.”

(I’m still not sure why she married me.)

(I am getting my wisdom teeth taken out, but have elected to have it done with just Novocaine and nitrous oxide, laughing gas, so I am awake during the procedure. This takes place immediately after the oral surgeon has injected Novocaine into the base of one tooth and is about to pull it.)

Oral Surgeon: “Jesus f***, what is this?”

Assistant: “What’s wrong?”

Oral Surgeon: “There aren’t enough teeth!”

Assistant: “What?”

Oral Surgeon: “She’s missing teeth!”

(I was born with two less teeth than normal on my top jaw, which allowed those wisdom teeth to come in just fine.)

Me: “Yup.” *lifts up my hand and taps the area where the teeth would have been* “Missing these. Thought you knew.”

(I probably should have mentioned it at the consultation, but I would have thought that the guy who had my x-rays for a few weeks and looked in my mouth during the consultation would have noticed something that strange! On the plus side, I only had to get the bottom teeth removed!)

(My sister and her family are currently living with us, which results in some hilarious moments when her toddlers, ages two and four, get into things. This happens with the two-year-old. She always brings us our things when she finds them, from phones to shoes.)

Sister: “Yeah, [Sister’s Husband] was just saying– does [Two-Year-Old] have your vape?!”

Mom: “What?!”

(They both run to the living room as I’m bent over, talking to my other niece.)

Me: “[Four-Year-Old], do you want to play Barbies?”

Four-Year-Old: “[Two-Year-Old] got Nana’s vape!”

Mom: “She just hit the button; don’t worry.”

Sister: “No, Mom, she blew smoke out of her d*** mouth! [Two-Year-Old]!”

Mom: *laughing* “What the f***?! She normally brings it to us!”

(By this time, I’m in the living room, doubled over laughing. The two-year-old, who long ago decided I’m her favorite person, waddles up to me.)

Two-Year-Old: “[My Name], more!”

Me: “You want more of Nana’s vape?”

Two-Year-Old: “Yeah!” *claps and hops*

Sister: “H***, no! [Sister’s Husband]! [Two-Year-Old] just sucked Mom’s f****** vape!”

(None of us have any idea how my niece managed to successfully work the vape, but she was unharmed, and this will definitely be a story to tell for years!)

(After two long and wonderful days at nearby theme parks, we discover that my daughter has the stomach virus that has been going around her school. She vomits all over our hotel bathroom and herself, and has not yet been able to take a break. From previous experience with my other daughter the week before, I know that it might not end anytime soon, and we really need the use of our bathroom. I call housekeeping.)

Me: “Hi, I was hoping I could get some cleaning products from housekeeping, since a family member got sick in our bathroom.”

Staff Member: “I can send someone to clean the bathroom.”

Me: “Actually, I’d prefer to do it myself, since she’s very sick and can’t leave the bathroom. Do you have any cleaning wipes or spray I could use?”

Staff Member: “No, we cannot leave cleaning products in the rooms for safety reasons. I can connect you to the onsite store to see if they have any, or perhaps you could take a cab to a nearby pharmacy to purchase some.”

Me: *sarcasm* “So, there’s really a big problem with guests drinking the cleaning products?”

Staff Member: “No, but we don’t want someone to spray it in their eyes or something.”

Me: “Fine, connect me to the store.”

(The store doesn’t answer. I leave a message and they call me back.)

Me: “Hi, do you carry cleaning products?”

Store: “No, we don’t, but you can contact housekeeping if you need something cleaned.”

Me: “No, they won’t let me use their cleaning products. And I don’t want them to come in to clean right now.”

Store: “I can give you the number if a pharmacy that delivers.”

(I am annoyed that the hotel expects me to pay for delivery of cleaning products from an outside store so I can clean my hotel bathroom, but I just want to get off a pointless phone call.)

Me: “Never mind, thanks.” *calling housekeeping again* “Hi, can you send someone to clean my bathroom? I have a sick family member.”

(About an hour later, a housekeeper showed up with plastic bags, towels, and cleaning product. Fortunately, given that she was the one who was going to clean up vomit, it wasn’t hard to convince her that I really needed cleaning, but I couldn’t let her come into our bathroom where my daughter was actively vomiting. She put everything down, told me she was going to get us some clean towels, and left me with everything I needed to clean up. Obviously, the people on the phone were blindly following a policy that forbade giving guests cleaning products, but at least the housekeeper understood that I couldn’t just let her clean around my half naked vomiting kid. I’ve never been so happy to be able to clean up vomit, so my daughter could maintain her dignity, and the rest of us could have a clean bathroom. She even got a tip from us for not doing the cleaning.)