My grandfather passed recently, and I wanted to share this story from a few months before his death.

Grandpa had memory issues, but he was ridiculously good at compensating for them with pure social charm. You’d have to spend almost forty minutes with him to notice that he was missing any of his faculties. This meant that there were occasional gaps in his care, because a doctor or caretaker who only spent ten to twenty minutes with him wasn’t able to identify issues and would think he was far more capable than he really was.

One afternoon, he was in his room, chatting with one of his favorite nurses, but he wasn’t quite responding to everything she said.

Nurse: *Half-joking.* “[Grandpa], do you have your hearing aids in?”

Grandpa: “Of course I do! See?”

He turned his head and pointed to his ear, where the nurse saw…. a cashew.

Grandpa had a bad habit of taking his hearing aids out and forgetting where he’d put them, so he’d apparently grabbed a cashew from his doctor-approved snack jar, forgotten that he’d meant to eat it, and stuck it behind his ear thinking it was his hearing aid.

Grandpa was no longer allowed to have cashews in his room after that.

I’m a college student living at home and have just gotten my first car. Until now, I’ve been living on campus and taking the bus, but I’m now commuting, so the bus is no longer an option. Since I know nothing about cars, my parents did all the legwork of finding and purchasing a used one. When they bring it home, my younger brother (who DOES know about cars and already has his own) throws a fit.

Brother: “Why does she get the nice car?!”

Dad: “We got a good deal and [My Name] wanted a backup camera. She’s older than you were when we got your first car, so we’re less worried about her crashing it.”

Brother: “It’s just my car, but nicer!”

Mom: “We went to the same used car place we got yours. It’s a little newer and has a couple more features, but it’s the same basic model.”

Brother: “It has a SUNROOF!”

Me: “Wait, it has a sunroof?”

Brother: “SHE’S NOT EVEN TALL ENOUGH TO SEE THAT THERE’S A SUNROOF!”

He did get over it. Eventually. After our parents reminded him that the family agreement had been that they’d pay for each kid’s first car, and my brother was on his third, all of which they’d wholly or partially paid for.

I work in a grocery chain that’s famous for having a coin-op horse at the front of the store that kids can ride for only a penny. The horse is actually sturdy enough to hold multiple children at once… or one full-grown adult.

One summer afternoon, a clearly drunk woman came in to buy something, saw the horse, and squealed like a little kid while she ran over for a ride. People leave pennies on the base of the machine for kids whose parents don’t carry any. She did get her ride, but one of my managers had to help her off and gently tell her that she couldn’t be in the store while intoxicated.

Naturally, this passed into store legend, and I started using it as part of my “at least you’re not THAT person” spiel I use when the good customers get embarrassed about needing extra help. Most of the time, it makes people laugh and relax, but it has backfired exactly once.

On that day, I was helping a customer who was shopping with a friend. She said something about being a bother, so I jumped to reassure her.

Me: “Oh, it’s no problem. We don’t get mad at you as long as you don’t spill blueberries, smash a jar of spaghetti sauce, or try to ride [Horse] while drunk.”

Instead of laughing, the customer immediately turns to her friend.

Customer: “Hey, [Friend], I know what we should do this weekend! Let’s get drunk and ride [Horse]!”

I kept an eye out just in case she was serious, but to my knowledge, neither she nor her friend came in on the weekend to molest our poor horse while drunk. Poor beast gets enough abuse from sticky toddlers!

I’m a cashier in a grocery store. My customer is a mom attempting to wrangle two little kids who want to run off in every direction while I scan items.

Me: “What payment method would you like to use today? We take cash, credit, and firstborn child.”

Customer: “Please, take them both!”

When I was seventeen years old, I had appendicitis. After a very painful and frankly ridiculous situation that I should eventually submit here, I ended up at the hospital for over two weeks, twice. I was in the hospital, about a week after my surgery, still in pain, still recovering. This story takes place in early January.

I was in my hospital room in bed, loopy from a lack of sleep and medication, and my mom was visiting me.

Two people walk in wearing coats. They walk over to the bed and start putting the rails up to wheel me out.

I was so out of it and so used to tests that what was happening wasn’t at all unusual. My mom was confused but didn’t say anything until they indicated that I should get my coat.

Finally, my mom spoke up:

Mom: “Where are you taking him?”

Man: “Oh, we’re taking him for his chemotherapy.”

Mom: “What? Why would he need chemo?!”

At this point, I had managed to get my coat on, still confused. Luckily, my mom was there to clarify everything. I was not, in fact, a cancer patient. I have absolutely no idea who they were there for; I just know it wasn’t me.