All Relationships Start Out Cheesy

, , , , , , | Romantic | October 20, 2017

(My fiancé has recently proposed to me. We rent our home next door to my father in an effort to save money. This can be convenient at times, if my father or I run out of something, if one of us can go to the store for the other, etc. My fiancé and I are sitting at home for the evening when I get a call from a family friend, who is currently visiting my father.)

Friend: “Hey, [My Name], do you guys have any cheese?”

Me: “Yeah, but it belongs to [Fiancé].”

Friend: “Oh. Do you think I could have some? Wait… Your dad wants to talk to you.”

(My father comes onto the line and asks the same question, saying that our friend is out of the usual snacks we keep on hand for her when she visits, since she is allergic to gluten.)

Me: “Hey, [Fiancé], can [Friend] have a couple slices of cheese?”

Fiancé: *rather reluctant since it’s an expensive brand* “Ehhh, I dunno.”

Me: *to my father* “[Fiancé] wants to be compensated. What does he get?”

Father: “He gets to marry my daughter. How about that?”

Me: “Okay!” *to fiancé* “My dad says you can marry me if you give [Friend] cheese. What do you think? You wanna buy me for two slices of cheese?”

(Our friend got her cheese!)

Will Be Rattling Around For A While Longer

, , , , , | Related | October 19, 2017

(I’m visiting my mom, who’s just dug out some old stuff from the basement. She comes into the room and shows me an old, dented metal rattle.)

Mom: “Oh, look, it’s your old baby rattle!”

Me: “Really?”

Mom: “Yeah. It was mine, too!”

Me: “Cool! Oh, and it’s silver, so–“

Mom: “You could sell it for a bit?”

Me: “What? No! Silver is naturally antiseptic, so it’s good to give to babies. You really think I’d sell it?!”

Mom: “Well, I don’t know…”

(I have few things like that from my childhood, and passing them onto my children or siblings is worth infinitely more than whatever paltry sum I’d be able to sell them for!)

Not Really Feline This Relationship

, , , | Romantic | October 19, 2017

Partner: *from the next room* “You know I love you!”

Me: *touched at this sweet, out-of-the-blue comment* “Thanks, Sweetie. I love you, too.”

Partner: *pauses* “I was talking to the cat.”

Your Brother Is Not A Mourning Person

, , , , | Related | October 19, 2017

(I’m folding laundry and putting it away quietly while my daughter naps in her crib. I find a shirt that, while clean, still smells like my husband, who passed away two months ago. I had thought that I would never smell him or his work again, as I had washed the last shirt he wore accidentally, so I start crying. While I’m doing so, my brother barges into the room I share with my daughter and sister.)

Brother: *barges in* “I want some of your soda— Why are you crying?”

Me: “Shh! [Daughter] is sleeping! And I’m crying because I found one of [Husband]’s shirts that still smells like him, and no, you can’t have any of my soda!”

Brother: “You’re still crying over him? It’s been two months!

Me: “That doesn’t matter. It hurts like h***, and you know it does! Now leave; she’s sleeping.”

Brother: “Oh, my God. It’s been two months; you should be over it by now!”

Me: “Over it? Seven years together, a marriage, and a child together… and after two months, you think I should be over it?”

Brother: “Uh, yeah.”

(He wouldn’t leave until I started throwing clothing at him while crying, effectively waking my daughter up, who sat on my lap while I cried. I folded the shirt up and put it in with the rest of my husband’s clothing, so that whenever I feel like it, I can take it out and hold it. My brother then tried to get me in trouble, but my parents and uncle took my side. Because of how he reacted to my mourning, I have yet to cry in front of another family member, fearing the same reaction.)

When It’s For Pizza Don’t Ask Why

, , , , , | Working | October 18, 2017

(My friends and I order pizza for delivery and it gets to us pretty quickly. Because my friend used her debit card, the pizza guy says:)

Pizza Guy: “I need your driver’s license number.”

Friend: “Why?”

Pizza Guy: “Ma’am, it’s the company rules, not mine.”

Friend: “Okay, why?”

Pizza Guy: “Ma’am, I have no choice. This is what they tell me to do.”

Friend: “No, I understand, but my driver’s license starts with the letter ‘Y.’”

(You could see the light bulb go off when he got it, but I blame her, too. He was cool, though, and laughed hard at himself. She actually gave him a decent tip for the laugh!)

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