(I’m driving my daughter and a friend to an amusement park. It’s August, the highway is full of people driving to and from holidays, and there are also major road-works going on. We come to a fork that I know well. It’s being refurbished, and the speed limits decrease accordingly. Because I’m taking the left bend, I stay on what would be the fast lane, even though the limit is now 60 on all lanes. A driver appears behind my car, flashing his headlights, but I can’t change lanes to let him overtake, nor can I accelerate. He guns up the engine and overtakes me on the right side, giving me the stink-eye and mouthing bad words as he passes by. A few kilometres later, there’s a queue caused by yet more road-work. Cars are driving bumper to bumper, and I happen to side up with the guy who overtook me. He has both windows down, so I wave at him.)

Me: “Sir, I’m sorry that I wouldn’t go past 60… It’s because there are three speed cameras in that spot. Have a nice holiday!”

(I then rolled up my windows and watched him stew until the exit.)

(I am in a farmyard, waiting to buy some vegetables directly from the farmer. A mother and a child are also waiting to be served. Their family has a reputation for being not quite law-abiding.)

Child: *pointing out at a duck passing by with her duckling* “Mummy! Look at the pretty duckies! Look at the pretty duckies!”

Mother: “Yes, love, they’re pretty, aren’t they?”

(The farmer’s wife catches one of the ducklings and offers it to the child for holding. The kid, of course, is beyond himself with joy and pets the duckling while the mother does her shopping. Once she’s done…)

Mother: “Love, put the ducky down; it’s time to go.”

Child: *after putting the duckling back on the ground* “Mummy, can we come and take them later tonight?”

(The mother turned bright red and left rather quickly!)

(My husband is prone to explaining things at length to our ten-year-old daughter, even in reply to simple questions. We’ve called the phenomenon “Dadsplaining.” Tonight, he’s snacking on chips after dinner and the dog starts to beg for one.)

Husband: “No, [Dog], I’m not going to give you chips. They’re bad for you. Plus, I already gave you dinner. You had a quarter-pound of minced meat, a boiled egg…”

Me: “Oh, my God, he’s Dadsplaining the dog now! [Daughter], pack a suitcase and run!“

(I’m a 5’1″ female who is often mistaken for being younger than I am. I tend to easily blush when I have to correct people, since I don’t like point out that they are wrong. I go to a bar that specialises in beers with my boyfriend and his family. Since I don’t drink beer I ask for a cider. At first the bartenders don’t know what that is but after a while conclude that they don’t serve it. They then try to serve me tequila but I kindly decline due to it only being around 4:00 pm. They continue with showing me their drinks list. One of the bartenders tries to make small-talk:)

Bartender: “How old are you? 17?”

Me: *face turning red* “No, I’m 27.”

Bartender: “NO! You can’t be. You look so young!”

Boyfriend’s Mother: “Yes, she is 27.”

Bartender: “Well, then you definitely can have a drink.”

(I don’t know why they tried to serve me both tequila and drinks if they thought that I was underage. As a bonus, later that night at a restaurant…)

Waiter: “How many are you? Five?”

Me: *standing behind my 6’1″ boyfriend* “Six!”

(The waiter hadn’t seen me standing there. That day I went from being adult, to underage, to non-existing.)

(Receiving an inbound call:)

Me: “Good morning. I’m [My Name]; how may I help you?”

Client: “Hey, can I have your number so I can call you back?”

Me: “Well, sir, you are calling right now.”

Client: “Yeah, but can have the number?”

(A moment of silence…)

Me: “Yes, of course!”