(I am six years old. It’s summer, and we’re all sitting on the back porch. My mother decides to spray spider poison in the eaves of the house.)
Mom: “Everyone hold their breath.”
(I dutifully hold my breath. My mom continues spraying for spiders along the perimeter of the house.)
Dad: *to me* “Are you okay?”
(I pass out. When I regain consciousness, everyone is hovering over me.)
Dad: “What happened?”
Me: “Nobody told me it was okay to breathe…”
(My boyfriend has issues staying asleep, and this morning is no different. He gets up at 4 am, and proceeds to wander around. At around 5.30 am, he shakes me awake.)
Boyfriend: “Honey! Is [roommate] in the bathroom?”
Me: “I don’t know! Why are you waking me up this early?”
Boyfriend: “I think she’s asleep on the toilet… can you wake her up? You’re a girl.”
Me: “Why do you think she’s asleep on the toilet at 5.30 am?”
Boyfriend: “Well, I knocked and knocked, but the door has been shut for the last hour… and the backdoor was open!”
Me: “What? Just open the door. She’s not in there. There’s no one awake but you.”
Boyfriend: “What if there’s a homeless man locked in the bathroom!”
Me: “So you want me to go check on the homeless man in our bathroom?”
Boyfriend: “I refuse to poop my pants in front of a stranger for that!”
Me: “Just open the door. I’m refusing to get out of bed for that!”
(We are currently watching ‘The Avengers’, a movie which my aunt has not seen. It is at the part where Captain America, Thor, and Iron Man are fighting in a forest.)
Aunt: “Why don’t they just pull down their pants and compare sizes already?”
(I’ve told my older blonde sister a witty joke two minutes ago. She finally bursts out laughing.)
Me: “You know, you’re so blonde sometimes.”
Sister: “Nuh-uh!”
Me: “Yes, you are.”
Sister: “No!”
Mom: “Honey, she’s right; sometimes you are pretty blonde.”
Sister: “No, you guys are so wrong! I am totally blonde all the time!”
Me: “Well, you have your moments, but I wouldn’t say all the time.”
Sister: “I’ve been blonde my entire life! Not once has my hair color changed. I’ve been blonde all the time.”
Mom: *to me* “Does she mean—”
Me: “I’m afraid so.” *to sister* “Do you mean your hair is blonde all the time?”
Sister: “Yes, exactly.” *pauses* “Oh… s***.”
(My husband is in the Navy, and had to complete a Physical Fitness Assessment this morning. This consists of a timed run, push-ups and sit ups. As a result, his back and feet are quite sore by bedtime.)
Husband: “I can has feets rub?”
Me: “Hmmm… do I get a feets rub, too?”
Husband: “But I had a PFA!”
Me: “So? When’s the last time I got a feets rub?””
Husband: “B-but I had a PFA!”
(I sigh, sit down on the bed, pull his admittedly very tense feet into my lap, and start working out the kinks in the left foot.)
Me: “You can never say I don’t spoil you. What do I get out of this?”
(He frowns contemplatively, then flexes his free foot against my chest.)
Me: “D-did you just squeeze my boob with your foot?”
Husband: “My arms aren’t long enough to reach them!”
