(I have just come home from the hairdressers, my mum has always been quite particular about my hair.)

Mum: “Oh, no! You let the make your hair all shaggy!”

Me: “I got it layered, it’s only a little bit. It makes it so my hair isn’t so boring.”

Mum: “You shouldn’t get it shaggy because if you want anything different done with it next time, then they’ll have to cut it really short.”

Me: “The shortest layer is still well below my shoulder and your logic is lacking.”

Mum: “There’s nothing wrong with my logic.”

Me: “If I do what you say, then I’ll never do anything different with my hair, because there will always be a next time.”

Mum: “That’s why you should never get it cut like that! Now you’ll have to have it cut really short next time!”

(We’ve just gotten home from the bar with a few friends. I am tired, silly and slightly drunk. I’ve been lovingly annoying my boyfriend by poking, prodding, whining, nuzzling and doing other irritating things to him. After everyone leaves, we finally go up to bed.)

Boyfriend: “Honey, pick a movie.”

Me: “Ugh, okay.”

Boyfriend: *starts poking me*

Me: “Stop that.” *bats his hand away*

Boyfriend: *starts rubbing his face on my shoulder*

Me: *I try to ignore him and focus on finding a movie*

(He begins rubbing his face even more violently on my shoulder, then starts poking me and tugging on my hair, followed by making pouty sounds. At this point I realize he’s trying to do all the things I’ve been doing to him through the night. I am determined not to give him any reaction. As a result he then pretends to get mad and starts violently nuzzling me so hard that he’s rocking the bed.)

Me: “Argh! Knock it off!”

(I am both extremely irritated and amused. I start playfully hitting him, and I laugh.)

Boyfriend: “You’re laughing! You’re laughing! That means I’m off the hook!”

(He pulls me into a big bear hug so I can’t hit him anymore and kisses me all over.)

(I have just taken my 14-year-old nephew to see ‘The Dark Knight Rises’. We are both massive fans of Batman and they have seen all the movies, animated and live action… apart from one.)

Nephew: “That was awesome; all the Batman films are awesome. I don’t think you can make a bad Batman film.”

Me: “They managed to do it in 1997.”

Nephew: “Naah, it’s not possible to make a bad Batman film.”

(We continue this argument for a few minutes until I decide the time is right for him to realise the truth. I whack on Joel Schumacher’s ‘Batman and Robin’. Initially excited, he is silent for 125 minutes. As the credits play I turn to him.)

Me: “So, what did you think?”

(He is in shock at his beloved Dark Knight, cast in the campy controversy that is ‘Batman and Robin’. He is silent for a minute.)

Nephew: “This has to be the worst film in the entire world.”

Me: “You want to hear something worse? When this was out I worked in a cinema. I had to see this over 150 times. Over a very long, hot summer.”

Nephew: “How did you see this all those times and not go crazy?”

Me: “Vodka, sweetie, and lots of it.”

Me: *regarding dinner* “That is a lot of sausage.”

Mom: “Oh! Oh! That’s… that’s what the girl… was thinking about… that one time!”

Me: “Do you mean, ‘That’s what she said’?”

Mom: *beams*

(My mother receives a call from a credit card company.)

Caller: “Ma’am, we wanted to run a few items past you, as your account as been flagged for suspicious activity.”

Mom: “Oh, my. Go ahead then.”

Caller: “We’re showing that your card has been used to purchase several hundred dollars of liquor, and something called the “Breast Course”. It looks like someone is going to be quite drunk and looking at questionable content on your dime.”

Mom: “Oh, no, that’s just my husband. Accept those charges…”

(My father? He collects scotch and is a radiologist specializing in mammography.)