(Both of us are male. We have a thing where we comment on guys we see on TV or movies. Neither of us feel insecure about this, mostly because we’ll never meet them. My husband is watching a reality TV show.)
Me: “Look at that contestant! He’s hot!”
Husband: “Yeah, but he’s a dummy when he speaks.”
Me: “Meh, its not like I’d make him breakfast in the morning.”
(It’s a few weeks before my nephew’s 6th birthday. I’m teasing him by saying I’ve already gotten his present, but not telling him what it is.)
Nephew: “I know, I’ll guess while you spell it out.”
Me: “Okay. First letter is ‘B’.”
Nephew: “‘D’? I know! Darth Vader!”
Me: “No, not ‘D’, ‘B’.”
Nephew: “That’s what I said, ‘V’ as in Vader.”
Me: “No, ‘B’ as in boy.”
Nephew: “Darth Vader is a boy!”
(My fiancé has missed the first ultrasound of our baby due to a deployment. I am relaying the information that I had been told by the doctor, on to him.)
Me: “So, they think that the baby is only 16 weeks, not 18 like we had thought.”
Fiancé: “Okay, that’s cool.”
(Three hours later, out of the blue…)
Fiancé: “Wait, does that mean your due date has changed too?”
(It is a family tradition to sit around the TV together and watch the opening ceremonies for the Olympics. It is the London 2012 ceremony, where each country walks into the stadium and is announced in alphabetical order.)
Dad: “Uh, why hasn’t America marched yet? We’ve already passed the A’s!”
(We are all speechless, but out of respect for the family patriarch, we say nothing, but my mother shouts to us from the kitchen.)
Mom: “It’s United! United States! Idiot!”
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(I’m a 19-year-old girl. My uncle, whom I haven’t seen since I was 12, is visiting my parents. I walk into the dining room carrying a glass of milk.)
Uncle: *to me* “Milk, huh? Very healthy. Hoping you’ll get to be as tall as your mom?”
(My mother enters and stands beside me. The top of her head is roughly level with my chin.)
Mom: “I know you haven’t seen her in a long time, big brother, but I’d think you’d at least remember how tall I am.”
