(I am about 11 years old, and am being home-schooled. I’m working on my spelling/vocabulary lesson, and have to write a short story using every word in the lesson. I write a story about a superhero who has the power to turn the villains and monsters good. I am proud of my story.)

Aunt: “Why does she make them all turn good?”

Me: “Because they were evil and hurting people.”

Aunt: “Well, it’s not right to make someone do something they don’t want to do. You should change it.”

Me: “How do you know they don’t want to be good?”

Aunt: “They’re monsters. Rewrite it.”

(I stop arguing, and change the ending drastically by making the superhero kill the monster. She doesn’t like this one either. She makes it clear that she wants it written one way.)

Aunt: “What is this?”

Me: “My alternate ending.”

Aunt: “Killing people is bad!”

Me: “They’re monsters, remember?”

Aunt: “That doesn’t change anything. Rewrite it!”

Me: “To what? You didn’t like the first one!”

Aunt: “Just change it!”

(By now, I am quite irked, and change the story once again to a more generic superhero story ending.)

Me: “Here.”

Aunt: “So she just sends him off?”

Me: “Yes.”

Aunt: “It’s better, but why did you choose this ending?”

Me: “Because you told me to.”

Aunt: “That’s not a good reason. Why don’t you write a new one?”

(I am more irked now, and refuse to write another ending.)

Me: “I’ve already written a new one!”

Aunt: “And I want you to write it over!”

Me: “Fine! How about the superhero goes and turns the monster into a good guy so she doesn’t have to keep fighting him? That way everyone is happy. And now the monster can live happily.”

Aunt: “No, he wouldn’t be happy. He would be forced to be something he’s not.”

Me: “Yes, he would. He is my monster in my story!”

Aunt: “You can’t act that way in the real world!”

Me: “How about we leave my story be, and not force it to change into something I don’t want it to be?”

Aunt: “Are you talking back to me?”

(I don’t want to get into trouble, so I just give in.)

Me: “I’m sorry. I’ll learn from this. I can’t make people do stuff or they’ll be unhappy.”

Aunt: “Good. Now go work on math.”

Me: “Okay, Aunt [name].”

(I went on to my math lesson. I never chose to write a story for my spelling lesson again, which was unfortunate, because I love writing. I learned more from writing a story than I did copying the words over and over in my book.)

(My sister-in-law has recently gotten a new job selling cruise trips at a big holiday company. To say she is pleased with herself is an understatement. The topic about her sales figures and how she can sell ‘really well’ keeps coming up.)

Sister-In-Law: “So, I was on the phone to a customer, and sold them a £3000 holiday; apparently the first one this year!”

(I’m nodding along, trying to fake interest.)

Friend: “[My name], don’t you do something in sales?”

Me: “Hmm? Oh yeah, sort of. We only deal with anything over £30,000. Difficult, especially in this economy, and when dealing with owners and heads of business.”

(My sister-In-law glares at me. She never bothers to learn what I do.)

(I’m in my room, listening to Tom Petty. My brother walks in.)

Brother: “Is this Tom Petty?”

Me: “Yes, it is.”

Brother: “Wasn’t he one of ‘The Beatles’ or something?”

Me: “Get out.”

Brother: “I’m serious, though.”

Me: “I know that you’re serious. Just get out my room before I kill you.”

(I’m having a panic attack, and my boyfriend is there to comfort me. After I calm down and stop crying, I start apologizing for my actions.)

Me: “I’m sorry. I hate being like this, and having these problems, and you having to deal with them, and—”

Boyfriend: “We’re losing her! Quick, we need mouth to mouth!”

(I am the ‘runt’ of my extended family, but am still 6’5″ and 270 lbs. My long-term girlfriend and I are both in our late 20’s. She makes a lot of half-joking comments about wanting to start a family. Also, my cousin has recently had her first child.)

Grandma: “How big was the baby?”

Cousin: “She was tiny, only about eight and a half pounds.”

Girlfriend: “…did you just say that eight and a half pounds is a tiny baby?”

Grandma: “It is in this family. Heck, [my name] was 10 lbs, and close to 23 inches long.”

Girlfriend: “Was he like overdue or something, right?”

Mom: “Actually, he was close to a month early.”

Girlfriend: “…oh.”

(That puts an end to her jokes for a while. Although now we our expecting our first in about three months!)