(My sister has asked me to make some school uniforms for her kids, I agree and she tells me she will bring the fabric over. Two months later, the day before school starts, I am trying to get my daughter’s uniform finished in time for her first day of school. My sister turns up with a huge bag of fabric.)

Sister: “Here’s the fabric to make the uniforms.”

Me: “Okay, when do you need them for?”

Sister: “Tomorrow.”

Me: “What? You have to be kidding.”

Sister: “No.”

Me: “Well, I’m sorry but I can’t.”

Sister:  “You said you would.”

Me: “Yes, two months ago, when I had the time. I have no time right now. I am making [Daughter]’s uniform.”

Sister: “It’s not my fault. The fabric was on layby. I just picked it up.”

Me: “Well, yes. That is your fault.  I can’t just whip up three extra uniforms in one night.”

Sister: “It is your fault. If you hadn’t learned to sew then I wouldn’t expect you to make the uniforms!”

(I’m getting my baby ready for bed. I bring him to my husband for goodnight kisses.)

Me: “I really hope he poops before bed, because it’s been a while, and he’s miserable.”

Husband: *to our son* “Oh, goodnight, buddy. Daddy loves you. You poop a lot, okay? Poop all over the bed.”

(My neighbors have been parking in my reserved space for some time now. I confront them about it.)

Neighbor: “We’re sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Me: “Have you asked about using [Other Neighbor]’s space? He doesn’t have a car.”

Neighbor: “Oh, we were doing that, but he complained to the super.”

Me: *under my breath as I go into my apartment* “Then why did you think it would be okay to park in the spot of someone who HAS a car?”

(My boyfriend and I are just waking up. I move over to his side of bed and cuddle up to him.)

Boyfriend: *sleepily* “Why have you weaseled to my territory?” *hugs me*

(Five minutes later, he hops out of bed saying it’s way too warm to stay any longer. Before going to work, he comes back in to say goodbye.)

Boyfriend: “Okay. Bye, everyone. Love you!”

Me: “Who else but me are you talking to?”

Boyfriend: “Well, there’s you, the weasel, and the furnace!”

(My fiancé has recently moved in with me and we are doing the adjusting to each other thing. In the middle of the night, I feel my head being moved.)

Me: “What are you doing?”

Fiancé: “Moving your head back on your pillow. You moved it off.”

(He’s done this every night now.)