(My friend and I are both still at high school and are 15 years old. My mum has a strict ‘no-one round on a school night’ policy, as there will be school/work the next morning. It is a Wednesday, meaning I’m not allowed people over, when this happens)

Mum: “Does [Friend] like pie?”

Me: “Probably. Why?”

Mum: “Well, I’m cooking the pie Grandpa bought for us from the butcher, and I’ve realised it’s too big for just the two of us, so I’m wondering if [Friend] wants to come over?”

Me: “Er… are you telling me to invite [Friend] over for tea? On a Wednesday night?”

Mum: “Yes.”

Me: “We have school tomorrow.”

Mum: “I know. It’s fine.”

(I call my friend up.)

Me: “Hi, [Friend]. I have a couple of weird questions.”

Friend: “Hello! What is it?”

Me: “Have you had tea? And if not, do you like pie?”

Friend: “Er… No, I haven’t, and yes, I do. Why?”

Me: “Mum’s baked a pie that’s too big for the two of us. She wants you to help us eat the pie.”

Friend: *there’s a pause before I hear her shouting to her mum* “Mum, can I go to [My Name]’s for pie? Her mum’s made too much and needs a [Friend’s Family Surname] to help out!” *there’s another pause* “Mum says yes; she’ll drop me there in a few!”

(About five or six years later, this friend is now at uni, and have been having a long conversation on the phone. At an hour, the phone call stops being free, so we agree to hang up and call back. I get the call back quickly, but it’s not what I expect.)

Friend: “You know we said we’d continue this conversation?”

Me: “Yeah?”

Friend: “[Housemate] has just turned up with pie that’s too big for them.”

Me: “Are you needed?”

Friend: “Yes. Yes, I am.”

Me: “I totally understand; you’re the pie eating hero we do not deserve but need.”

Friend: “I knew you’d understand. You and I having an understanding when it comes to pie.”

(Even ten years after the incident, the fact my mum invited my friend over for a pie is still a joke in our household and with our group of friends.)

(While out to eat, the topic of what foods are vegetables comes up. These are just some of the food items that we bring up.)

Brother: “Is watermelon a vegetable?”

Me: “No. Lettuce is a vegetable.”

Dad: “Really? Is lettuce a vegetable?”

Mom & Me: “Yes.”

Me: “What would you classify lettuce as?”

Dad: “Cow food.”

Brother: “Tomatoes?”

Mom: “Yes, well… it’s technically a fruit.”

Me: “It’s a fruit that identifies as a vegetable.”

Mom: “Like avocados. And cucumbers.”

Dad: “Avocados are fruit; they grow on trees. Like apples and oranges.”

Mom: “What about nuts?”

Brother: “Are nuts a vegetable?”

Me: “No, nuts are nuts.”

Brother: “Potatoes?”

Me: “They’re a root.”

Mom: “Like carrots.”

Me: “Or onions, though onions are more a spice thing. Like garlic.”

Mom: “Also a root.”

Me: “Parsnips?”

Mom: “Those are disgusting.”

(My family has recently become proud owners of a six-month-old border collie. She has quickly become the light of our lives, but she becomes very attached to my dad right away. One day, my dad and I are driving with our dog in the back seat. She is really enjoying the ride, switching from one window to the other with a huge grin on her face. My dad looks in the rearview mirror and starts baby-talking to her.)

Me: “Aww, Dad, you really love [Dog], don’t you?”

Dad: *jokingly stoic* “NO!”

Me: “Yes, you do. You don’t use baby talk for anybody.”

Dad: “Cubans don’t love dogs!”

(My dad is half English, half Scottish, and very pale, so no chance of any Cuban heritage. I look at him, confused.)

Me: “But you’re not Cuban.”

Dad: *confused* “No, I’m not.”

(We sit there in confused silence for a minute or two.)

Me: “Then why did you say, ‘Cubans don’t love dogs?'”

Dad: “Humans don’t love dogs.”

(The exchange was so funny, we now use it as an inside joke every now and then.)

This story is part of our Border Collie roundup!

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(My mom has a knack for dealing with people on phones and getting her way. Sometimes it’s a blessing and sometimes it’s a curse. I do aspire to be as knowledgeable and headstrong she is when dealing with issues, but I hate to admit that one of her methods is to use the annoyance of repetition. This happens when my sister is dealing with an issue with her university.)

Sister: “I finally found out why I couldn’t access my schedule for my program. Apparently, they didn’t receive my chemistry mark.”

Mom: “What? But you sent that in months ago.”

Sister: “I know, but it wasn’t on my file. They found it, though, and I should get my schedule Tuesday.”

Mom: “But I don’t understand; you sent that in months ago.”

Sister: “I know, but I guess it got lost. It’s all dealt with though; they found my chemistry mark.”

Mom: “But you sent your chemistry mark in months ago.”

Sister: “Yes, I did. Things can get lost, though. I’m glad they found it, but I am irked that they didn’t tell me what was wrong earlier.”

Mom: “But you sent your chemistry mark in months ago.”

Sister: “Mom, did you hear the part where I said they found it and that they’ll get my schedule to me as soon as they can?”

Mom: “Yeah.”

Sister: “So, you know that the issue is solved, right? I’ll get my schedule soon.”

Mom: “I just don’t understand.”

Sister: “Don’t understand what? Everything is sorted.”

Mom: “But you sent your chemistry mark in months ago; why didn’t they have it?”

(Cue face-palming from my sister.)

(We go to St. Louis on vacation and decide to visit the Gateway Arch. There are about 40 or so people in front of me. Directly in front of me is a dad with two young children. The dad looks ahead and counts out how many families are going before him and works out which elevator they would be getting on. Note that ALL the elevators kind of lurch, making a metallic noise as the elevator starts up.)

Dad: “Yeah, kids, this is going to be really awesome! We are going to be very high up and have an amazing view of the city! But we don’t want to be on elevator four.”

Kids: “Why not elevator four, Dad?”

Dad: “That elevator will jolt and make a horrible metal noise and will eventually fall and we will all die! But there are a lot of elevators, so we don’t need to worry about that.”

(The kids look scared, but reassured by their dad. As the line shortens, the kids start counting ahead to predict which elevator they will be on.)

Kids: *gasp* “DAD! DAD! WE ARE GOING TO BE ON ELEVATOR FOUR!”

Dad: “Nooo. There’s no way!”

(The line ends, and the dad and kids are next. The kids are near hysterics. The dad turns to me.)

Dad: “Sir, would you mind switching places with me?”

Me: “NO WAY! That’s elevator four!”

(The dad only smirked as his plan came full circle. They got into the elevator and, sure enough, it jolted and made the noise. Pure horror-filled screams filled the room, as everyone who was aware of the situation was bent over laughing.)