(My sister and her freeloading husband have moved in with my parents after being evicted. Even though Dad doesn’t want the husband there and says so, he finally caves and regrets it instantly. Mum finds that her cooking isn’t up to the husband’s standards, she wakes up from naps to find him leaning over her, he takes food from their fridge and puts it in his — they have a small kitchen of their own — and they can’t even have private conversations. My sister can’t even stand being at home with him; she spends most of her time travelling for work, and if she is back she will often sleep at her business. Nothing Mum or Dad do or say will convince him to move out, until he needs to go and “look after” his mother after she has surgery. After a few weeks of her having to do everything for him, his mother throws him out. Much to my parents’ surprise, he starts sleeping at my sister’s business, which has upset her as now she can’t get peace from him.)

Sister: *to my parents* “[Husband] says he isn’t coming back here.”

Dad: “Ooh… Why not?”

Sister: “He says you don’t make him feel welcome here.”

Dad: “Really?”

Sister: “Yeah. You should call him and tell he’s welcome to come back.”

Dad: “Yeah, no. That’s not going to happen.”

(My sister storms out.)

Mum: *to me* “If I knew three years ago that making him feel unwelcome was all there was to getting him out, I would have put more effort into it.”

(My dad is at that stage where he can contradict himself just because he’s old.)

Dad: “How’s your new job? It isn’t overnight, is it?”

Me: *sigh* “No, Dad.”

Dad: “Good, because when you had that overnight job, you looked like a zombie!”

Me: “Stop picking on me, Dad!”

Dad: “It’s what dads do.”

(I tell him that it was the only job I could get at the time and he scoffs. Later…)

Dad: “I’m old so if I become sick, you’ll have to pay my bills.”

Me: “I can’t pay your bills on my salary. I’d have to get a second job.”

Dad: “Well, if that’s what you have to do, then do it. I didn’t raise you to be lazy.”

Me: “I’d have to take an overnight job. Didn’t you say to never take an overnight job?”

Dad: *pauses* “It’s time that you shouldn’t listen to me. Be a man and do your own thing!”

(I love when I throw his words back at him; it shows that he doesn’t know anything. And I’m a woman.)

(My husband built a smokehouse that’s large enough to hang a hog. We’re not kid-people and it’s no secret, but my nieces are awesome. Still, my hubby teases them. He is teasing my niece about putting her in the smoker. She runs over to where my brother and I are talking.)

Niece: “Daddy, Uncle [Husband] says he’s going to put me in the smoker and make me into jerky. If he did that, I bet you’d put him in the smoker… Wouldn’t you?”

Brother: “No.”

Niece: “No?! Why not?!”

Brother: “I’d be too busy eating jerky.”

(I work at a rock climbing gym. We run a program on the weekends where staff members handle all the ropes and gear so that kids can get a chance to climb. The kids are split into groups of three and take turns climbing with us. We’ve just started when one of the mothers comes up to me.)

Customer: “My daughter isn’t getting to climb.”

Me: “It’s not her turn quite yet, but she’ll get to go soon. There are only three people in the group, and it usually moves pretty fast.”

Customer: “That’s not acceptable.”

Me: “Um, what’s not acceptable?”

Customer: “We’re here for her to climb. She needs to be climbing.”

Me: “She will! It will just be a few minutes before her turn, and she can play in the play area while she’s waiting.”

Customer: “No. We paid for her to climb, not to wait around. I need someone else to come work with her.”

Me: “I’m sorry. We can’t do that as part of this program. If you really want, I can book her a private lesson, but it’ll be twice the price and you have to book at least two weeks in advance.”

Customer: “Well, if she can’t get a personal coach, we might as well not even be here. Can I get a refund?”

Me: “Uh, sure, I guess.”

(I give her the refund, and she goes and makes her daughter, who has been waiting perfectly patiently for her turn, take off all her gear, which they leave in a heap on the floor for me to pick up. As they’re leaving…)

Customer’s Daughter: “Why don’t I get to climb?”

Customer: *snootily* “We’ll come back when you can do it by yourself.”

(The visibly disappointed daughter was dragged out of the gym, not having gotten to climb at all.)

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(My mother-in-law texts me for my husband’s APO. Before I give it to her, I double-check with my husband via Skype chat, asking if he wants her to have it.)

Husband: “Yeah, it’s okay. Just tell her not to send me candy because I’m trying to eat less sweets, just like before I deployed. Beef jerky and non-sugary mints are good, as well as useful stuff like razors, soap, deodorant, and toothpaste. And tell her not to send anything she’d want me to bring back home, because I don’t want to have to try to pack extra bulls*** when it’s time to head back.”

(I relay this to her as, “[Husband] says to not send candy or useless junk, but please send jerky, razors, soap, deodorant, and/or toothpaste.” A few days later, she texts me, asking if there’s anything specific he has said he needed.)

Me: “He asked me to pick up a few things for him, but I’ve already bought them and will be shipping them out later this week.”

Mother-In-Law: “Okay, well, I’m going to send him a big bag of those Red Hots candies.”

Me: “I told you that [Husband] asked that you not send him any candy, though. If you want to send him something cinnamon, send him cinnamon-flavored mints, the kind that don’t melt. I’ve got a small container of them for him in the stuff I’m sending.”

Mother-In-Law: “Well, he didn’t tell me not to send candy, so I’m sending them, anyway.”

(Later that evening, my husband video calls me over Skype and asks if I’d picked up the things he’d asked for.)

Me: “Yeah, I did and will send them soon.” *pause* “By the way, your mom says she’s sending you a big bag of Red Hots in her care package.”

Husband: *sighs* “I thought you told her not to send me candy. I know I asked you to tell her.”

Me: *rolls eyes* “Yeah, I did tell her, but she said that you didn’t tell her, so she was sending it, anyway.”

Husband: *rolls eyes and shrugs* “I’m sure [Soldier] would like to have a giant bag of those.”

(I feel sorry for my husband, because she’s probably going to send him lots of useless junk alongside the candy. But on the bright side: if she sends him crap that he doesn’t want or need, there are plenty of other soldiers who will appreciate it.)