I have my fair share of plants, and I don’t NEED anymore. A fact reaffirmed when watering the whole household takes the better part of the afternoon. But the only thing that motivates me more than a passion for horticulture is pure, unadulterated spite

Caller: “I want to ask about houseplants.”

Me: “That’s my area! How can I help you?”

Caller: “Can I get the price for [very specific plant]?”

Me: “That’s [price].”

Caller: “No it’s not, it’s only [a fifth of that price], and you have it in [size we don’t have it in].”

Me: “No, we never have [plant] that low. We only have one left in stock at [size]. I can hold the last for you through the afternoon, to see if you like it?”

Caller: “Don’t bother, you don’t know which plant you’re talking about. I’m coming down there later, I’ll find it, and get this sorted out.” *Click.*

Well okay then. I flag my coworker, say I’m going on break, and oh yeah, buying this plant. Last I heard, he begrudgingly accepted the two-week waiting period until we could get more in… at a larger size and higher mark-up.

The plant was Sansevieria cylindrica, or “Starfish” if you’re wondering.

Four weeks ago:

Mum: “I still don’t understand why you’re getting an induction cooktop. There’s nothing wrong with the one you have.”

Me: “I told you. They’re easier to work with, they cook faster, they use less power, they’re safer for kids, and most importantly, they’re so much easier to clean! I hate cleaning.”

Mum: “But the cooktop you have now is perfectly fine! Why don’t you just change it out when it breaks down?”

Me: “Well then, I’d have to wait years to get all these things that I want. I don’t want to wait. I want to have it now.”

Mum: “Such a shame.”

Me: “I can sell my cooktop on [Website] or something, it’s not a complete waste.”

Mum: “You won’t get much for it on [Website].”

Me: “I’ll get nothing for it if I wait until it breaks down to get rid of it.”

Three weeks ago:

Mum: “But will the new cooktop even fit in the same spot?”

Me: “Yes, of course. I measured everything; it’s gonna fit.”

Mum: “It’ll probably look ugly.”

Me: “It’ll look fine. What are you talking about? If anything, it’ll look better! It’s so sleek and modern and flat.”

Mum: “I think they’re overrated. You know, your uncle bought one, spent so much money on it, and he’s not happy with it.”

Me: “Okay, well, I’m not [Uncle]. I’ve been wanting one for years. Literally, ever since I found out what they were, I’ve wanted one. I’m getting one.”

Two weeks ago:

Mum: “You’re gonna have to change out all your cookware.”

Me: “Not all of it, but yes, I’ll probably have to get some new pans. I’m okay with that.”

Mum: “You know you won’t be able to cook with a wok anymore.”

Me: “…Okay, that’s true. But I don’t use the wok that much. I can get a flat-bottomed wok. Hey, eventually, I could even get an outdoor setup, and I can use a wok there.”

Mum: “…”

Me: “You know, a lot of Asians do that.”

Mum was unable to argue with this logic.

Last week:

Mum: “I just think it’s such a waste of a perfectly good cooktop…”

Me: “Again?! For God’s sake, Mum. I want an easy-to-clean cooktop; that’s important for me, and that’s it.”

Mum: “You know you’re gonna have to clean it after every time you use it.”

Me: “Duh.”

Mum: “You can’t leave spills on it overnight. A gas cooktop, you can be lazy and clean it in the morning. Your new induction one, you’ll damage it if you don’t clean it promptly.”

Me: “And I will.”

Mum: “I mean, is it really gonna be easier to clean if you have to clean it after every time—”

Me: “Oh, my God, Mum, it’s one wipe to clean it. I’m practically looking forward to it!”

Mum: “Well, it’s your house, I guess…”

Me: “Yes, it is!“

Mum: “Such a nice cooktop you’re getting rid of, though…”

Me: *Facepalm*

Today:

Mum: “I don’t know, our cooktop is so old. I really want a new one. I just don’t know where to start.”

Me: “Well, how about I give you my old cooktop? The one I’ll be replacing. Like you keep telling me, it’s perfectly good.”

Mum: “No, that won’t work at all. Yours is a five-burner; you have the kitchen space for it. Our kitchen is tiny. There’s no space to put such a big cooktop.”

Me: “What are you talking about? I thought you guys said you were going to be moving your cooktop over anyway, where the sink currently is.”

Mum: “Yeah, but there’s still no space! I’d lose countertop space if I put a five-burner there.”

Me: “…You’re talking about 30 cm of space.” (For the Americans reading, that’s less than a foot.) “And that’s space that’s right up against the wall. What would you be using that space for, anyway?”

Mum: “There’s no space!”

I go to the kitchen with the measuring tape.

Me: “You want the dishwasher here, right? And the cooktop here. Here’s where a four-burner cooktop would end, and here’s where my one would end.” *Emphasising the tiny foot gap that’s squished right next to the wall* “What would you even be doing with this space? You might as well use it up with cooktop space!”

We go back and forth for a little longer. Then, Dad walks in.

Dad: “The issue isn’t the space. The issue is that your mum wants an induction cooktop.”

Me: “…”

Dad: “Because they’re easier to clean.”

Mum goes quiet.

Me: “WOOOOOOW.”

Mum busies herself with tidying the pantry.

Me: *My voice rising a few octaves* “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!”

At the moment of writing this, I’m more amused than I am annoyed. She’s not gonna live this one down.

My husband and I booked the same week off of work and decided to have a “staycation”. We mostly used the time to relax and take it easy, but we also got a few bits done that we had been meaning to do for a while, like redecorating the living room.

After a hard day of painting, we decided to take a break. My husband offered to go to the corner shop across the road to buy some cold lemonade.

On his way back, a woman glared at him.

Woman: *Scoffing* “Oh, so you can afford those, but you can’t afford to get a job?”

Perplexed, my husband ignored her and carried on home. When he returned home, he told me about what happened. Neither of us could make sense of what she meant. Obviously, she had assumed that as he was out during the day, he must be unemployed. But we couldn’t figure out how buying lemonade would hamper a job seeker from finding employment. Any ideas?

My wife is going by the checkout, and an older gentleman is arguing with the cashier.

Customer: “I can’t believe you don’t have any holiday sauce!”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, I don’t know what that is.”

Customer: “Like on eggs Benedict. Holiday sauce!”

My wife, seeing the issue, attempts to help.

Wife: “Excuse me, but I think you mean hollandaise sauce.”

Customer: “No, I’m looking for holiday sauce!”

Wife: “If you are making eggs Benedict, you are looking for hollandaise sauce.”

Customer: “I think I know what I’m looking for!”

I wonder if he ever found his holiday sauce.

I am helping a customer select from our many ice cream flavors.

Customer: “Do you have chocolate but in sorbet?”

Me: “We normally do, but I’m afraid we’ve run out. We just have it in the regular ice cream.” 

Customer: “Oh, no, thanks — too much fat.“

As soon as she says this, the customer behind her speaks up loudly.

Next Customer: “Why are you fat-phobic?“

Customer: “I’m… not? I’m just trying to reduce my fat intake.“

Next Customer: “Stop saying ‘fat’! It’s an offensive word!“

Customer: “It’s literally one of the words for how food nutrition works!”

Next Customer: “Then you’re part of a problematic system, and you should be ashamed! No one deserves to be called fat by fatphobes!”

Customer: “I agree, but literally no one is calling anyone fat here! I am simply trying to reduce the amount of fat I eat.”

Next Customer: “Because you’re fat-phobic!”

Customer: “Because I want to be healthy!”

Next Customer: “So, you’re saying fat people are unhealthy?”

The customer looks at me imploringly.

Me: “Nuh-uh. Not going there. Feels like a trap.”

I turn to the next customer.

Me: “Ma’am, please do not bother other customers. No one is insulting anyone else, and we wouldn’t allow it in the store if they were. Please let other customers complete their orders without interruption.”

Next Customer: *Leaving* “Fine! You’re just part of a problematic system that perpetuates fat as ugly!”

Me: “We… literally sell nothing but ice cream.”