Too Chicken To Enjoy The Shrimp

, , , , , , | Related | March 23, 2018

(My dad, sister, and I are carpooling on a road trip to a family gathering, when we have to make a stop at a large superstore. The delis at this chain do this new thing where you can get a to-go cup of popcorn chicken or popcorn shrimp. We are hungry, so we decide to do it. Normally, I jump at the chance to get shrimp, but for whatever reason, as soon as I see them, I am in the mood for chicken. I’m hesitating and trying to make a decision, and I notice that both my dad and my sister have grabbed a shrimp.)

Me: “Oh, perfect, because I’m really feeling the chicken. If you’re both getting shrimp, I can get the chicken and have a few pieces of your shrimp and you guys can have some chicken.”

(We are ahead of schedule, so we just sit in the parking lot for a few minutes to eat. My dad and I are in the front seats. My sister is in the back and doesn’t want to share and doesn’t want chicken. She’s not as generous with her food as the rest of the family, whereas everyone else will eat off each other’s plates without even thinking. We are now on the second time my dad and I have swapped cups.)

Dad: “You know, I think I like the chicken better.”

Me: “Same.” *as I pop another piece of shrimp in my mouth* “But, you know, shrimp.”

Dad: *starts laughing* “It sucks, but, you know, it’s shrimp, so it’s a good suck!” *trying to mock me*

Me: “Exactly.”


Sister: “You guys are morons.”

Firing Out Puns

, , , , , | Related | March 21, 2018

(My mom is watching me play a popular video game where you can throw your hat to “capture” different enemies and use their powers. One such enemy throws fireballs. I’m attempting to capture this enemy, but just as I throw my hat, he throws a fireball. The hat knocks the fire back into the enemy, killing it.)

Me: “Well, that backfired.”


Mom: “Seriously?”

Me: “I swear, I didn’t mean to make a pun!”

Thyme Too Improv The Grammer

, , , , , | Learning | March 20, 2018

(I am an English teacher in the days before computers, word processors, spell check, etc. In freshman English, I assign a paper as homework on the first day, to evaluate the level of ability I am dealing with in the new class. After the paper has been graded, a very irate mother storms into my class with a girl in tow.)

Mother: “Are you Mrs. [My Name]?!”

Me: “Yes, I am.”

Mother: “What’s the meaning of giving my daughter a D on this paper? She has never had less than an A in junior high school!”

Me: “Forty-six spelling and grammatical errors in a two-page, hand-written paper does not get an A. The only reason I gave a D instead of an F was that the idea presented was good.”

(The mother splutters on about only the idea being important, not the spelling, and then says she is going to take it up with the principal.)

Me: “Be my guest.”

(Needless to say, the issue died a quiet death, and by the end of the year the girl was writing A and B papers legitimately. It makes you wonder about the junior high school teachers who passed her on.)

The Key Thing Is That You Forget

, , , , , | Related | March 18, 2018

(My daughter’s car is in the shop, and as a result she and I are sharing my car for a few days. I have some errands to run before she goes to work.)

Me: “I’m leaving now, but I’ll be back in time for you to go to work. Do you want me to leave my spare keys, in case you have to go anywhere before I get back?”

Daughter: “Um… Mom? Think about what you just said.”

Me: “This conversation never happened.”

(She was still laughing as I walked out the door.)

This Encounter Will Always Be In YOUR Permanent Record

, , , , , , | Learning | March 18, 2018

(I work at a middle school office, and parents need to bring in a doctor’s note if their student missed school because of an appointment. One day, a mother walks in with a note.)

Mother: “I’d like to clear my child’s absence. He had a dentist’s appointment.” *makes no move to hand me a note*

Me: “Sure thing! However, to verify your child was at the dentist, we need a—”

Mother: *interrupting* “That’s fine! I know the date! It was January 8th, 2015!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but… Wait. Did you just say, ‘2015’?”

Mother: “YES! What, are you deaf or something?”

Me: “That was four years ago. There’s only three grades in middle school. Your kid doesn’t even attend this school anymore, ma’am.”


Me: “Ma’am, even if your child still attended this school, I could not excuse it, because it’s long after the gradebook closed for the year. You don’t need to worry about his permanent record; that’s only for—”

Mother: “AGH! FORGET IT! YOU’RE JUST BEING UNREASONABLE!” *storms out of the office*

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