I used to do a bit of community theatre in my small town. My nephew was hanging out with nothing to do all summer, so I got him involved volunteering backstage and doing odd jobs around the theatre.

We were in the drive-thru getting burgers one night after a performance of a musical I was in, and he was good-naturedly giving me the business, talking about how I have a big head.

Nephew: “You just think you’re like a local celebrity or something just because you do plays and stuff.”

I pulled up to the pickup window.

Takeout Worker: “Here’s your food. Wait, are you in [Play] they’re doing at [Theater]? I saw that last weekend. You were so good in it!”

Me: “Thank you so much. It’s embarrassing to be recognized!”

I grabbed the food, turned my head to my nephew, and just smiled as I pulled out of the drive-thru.

Many years back, my brother and his wife bought property that had an aging apple orchard. The plan was to remove the trees and put in a vineyard. We all came down to help. 

On burning day, we each had a fire pile we were to keep tabs on. I was watching my pile, and a large branch, on fire, rolled down and away from the pile. I grabbed the end that wasn’t burning and went to throw it back on the pile. I guess I went in a little too close and singed my hair around my face. I didn’t notice at the time.

Lunchtime came, and my niece saw my hair.

Niece: “Oh! Aunty! Your hair!”

Everyone had a good laugh.

The next work day included some fir tree trimming. I ended up with a bunch of sap stuck in my hair. My brother looked at me and said:

Brother: “Well, that should burn right out!”

When my niece was around three, I was in the car with her and her parents.

Me: “[Niece], do you want a baby sister?”

Niece: “No.“

Me: “What about a baby brother?”

Niece: “No.”

Me: “So, you don’t want to be a big sister?”

Niece: *Dramatic sigh* “I just want to be myself.”

I’m at my sister’s house. She has three kids, all under ten. I’m in the kitchen, and she yells from another room.

Sister: “Hey, get out some chocolate for the kids.”

I open the cupboard to find two large bars of chocolate, but one of them looks a bit… suspect.

Me: “Hey, Sis, is this one homemade?”

Sister: *Walking into the room* “Oh, I was looking for that! That’s the ‘special’ chocolate.”

I give it a sniff.

Me: “This is weed chocolate.”

Sister: “Yup! Want some to take home? It’s really good!”

Me: “Why do you keep this next to the kids’ chocolate?”

Sister: “I usually don’t, but I lost track of it over the weekend. Thanks for finding it.”

Me: “Maybe put it somewhere else? What if the kids got to it?”

We both look over at her three boys, who are in the middle of a contest of who can draw the most realistic-looking poop using the brown crayons.

Sister: “Like we’d notice…”

For the record, the chocolates (all kinds) are kept high up out of their reach, and she only partakes when she’s not responsible for the kids.

A relative recently passed away. Our fairly large family gathered for the funeral, as well as a lot of family friends, neighbours, ex-colleagues, etc. The deceased was a very well-liked man.

This meant that a lot of people there didn’t know each other.

At the wake, I was sitting at a table with several old friends of the deceased, most of whom hadn’t met a lot of our family before, making small talk. My mother and niece walked by, chatting about how the funeral planning went. My mother did a lot of the work, and she called on my niece at the last minute to help her put together a slide show of photographs to be shown during the service.

Mum: “I’m so glad you could help, [Niece]. Sorry it was so last minute. What were you doing when I called? You sounded busy.”

Niece: “I was in the middle of a murder.”

Mum: “I got you while you were doing a murder? Oh, no. I’m sorry, flower!”

They walked away, continuing their conversation. I looked around the table to see awkward, weirded-out looks on the faces of those with me.

Me: “[Niece] is a detective sergeant. She was doing the murder investigation.”

People At The Table: “Oh!”

Relief all around.