(My nana and I live in the same apartment complex. I get a frantic call from my aunt.)

Aunt: “I was one the phone with Nana when I heard a yell and the phone disconnected! Can you go down and make sure she’s okay?”

Me: “Of course.”

(I go down to Nana’s apartment.)

Me: “Where did you fall?”

Nana: “How’d you know?”

Me: “[Aunt] called me right after. She said she heard a yell, and then you hung up.”

Nana: “I didn’t hang up on purpose; the phone disconnected when I banged my head on the table.”

Me: *to my aunt on the phone* “She’s alive. She said she fell and hit her head, but there’s no blood or bruising.”

(My aunt comes over to Nana’s apartment.)

Aunt: “Don’t ever do that again!”

Nana: “Would you rather I wasn’t on the phone with you the next time I fall?”

Aunt: “Yes! Just don’t do it while I’m on the phone with you!”

(I am in the fourth grade, about ten years old, when the Hale-Bopp Comet is visible. My mom is chatting with a classmate’s mom who knows I like science.)

Classmate’s Mom: “Maybe you can bring [My Name] over to show us the comet. We don’t know what to look for.”

Me: “It’s that big thing in the sky that normally isn’t there.”

(I’m at the doctor’s office with my aunt for a physical examination. There’s a poster with a picture of platform heels on it that says, “If you remember wearing these, you probably need a colonoscopy.”)

Me: “Hey, [Aunt], do you remember wearing platform heels?”

Aunt: “Um, [My Name], those are for fifty-year-old people like your dad and [Other Aunt]. I have eight years to go.”

Me: “Are you sure you’ve never worn platform heels before?”

Aunt: “That’s irrelevant. It’s still for fifty-year-olds, and I have eight years to go.”

I was working at a children’s “fitness” gym, but it’s more like a play place with slides, a ball pit, and things to climb on. I was doing a camp, which is mostly free play for the kids. The camps are usually three hours long, but you can also pay for just an hour if you want.

A man walked in with his daughter and asked if she could play for an hour. The man didn’t say anything weird at all, but his shirt did read, “I Eat P**** Like A Fat Kid Eats Cake.”

He decided to sit there for the entire hour and watch his daughter play, when he could have left. I’m just super glad that no other parents showed up during that hour to see that shirt.

Me: “What’s for supper?”

Nana: “What do you want for supper? It’s not even noon yet.”

Me: “Lobster.”

Nana: “Well, I know for a fact that it’s not going to be lobster.”