(My mom works at hotel near a movie theater. I go to see a movie one day and then meet her at the hotel so she can drive me home.)
Me: “Hey, Mom!”
Mom: “Hey, bunnie!”
Me: “Good. How are you?”
Mom: “I didn’t ask that.”
(I promptly walked off down the hallway to sit on the floor and think about my actions.)
(Every year my mom calls long-distance to wish me a happy birthday. About six years ago, no call. No call in the evening after work. No call the next morning. So, finally, I call her the evening after my birthday. I generally call my mom every other day.)
Mom: “Oh, hi, I was wondering when you’d call. Hadn’t heard from you in days.”
Me: “Well, I thought you would have called me yesterday.”
Mom: “Why?”
Me: “Well, it was my birthday.”
Mom: “No, it wasn’t.”
Me: “Uh, yeah. Has been for 47 years.”
Mom: “Oh, well… Happy birthday.”
(Every year she now calls at seven am saying, “I don’t want you to think I forgot your birthday. Again.”)
(I’m having lunch with my dad and my girlfriend.)
Dad: “So, how is the wedding planning going?”
Me: “Pretty well.”
Girlfriend: “We found two super cute dresses for a great price, and my uncle said his firm can supply the food.”
(A man in the booth next to us suddenly turns and glares at us.)
Man: “Would you two [slurs] shut up already? I’m trying to eat!”
Dad: “Mind your own d*** business, or you’ll have my footprint tattooed on your a**.”
Man: “Who do you think you are, old man? I’m going to break your [slur]-loving face.”
Dad: “I’m a father first and foremost, but I’m also a retired police officer.”
(This caused the man to go snow white. He sheepishly paid for his half-eaten meal and left. Dad acted like nothing happened for the rest of the day.)
(When I turn 49, I get a phone call from my mother:)
Mom: “Happy birthday! Do you realize you’re half a century old?”
Me: “Mom, I’m 49.”
Mom: “Really?”
Me: “Yeah, I was born in [year]. I thought you were there at the time.”
(I’ve just walked in to start my shift at a restaurant, and as I’m tilling in to my register, I overhear a mother and her young daughter talking.)
Daughter: “Why do we have to wait for our pizza?”
Mom: “They have to make it from scratch.”
Daughter: “That shouldn’t take so long!”
Mom: “It does! I made you from scratch!”
