This story reminded me of my grandmother.

She bought all of us grandkids some ice cream. Being the excitable little s***s that we were, we ate the ice cream way too quickly, giving us all brain freezes.

Me: “Ouch! This is giving me brain freeze!” *Kältekopfschmerz.*

Grandmother: “That’s good. It means you have a brain.”

My brother, who has never been the brightest bulb, puts all of his ice cream in his mouth at once. He starts hurting also.

Me: “What are you doing?!”

Brother: “If I have the biggest brain freeze, I have the biggest brain!”

My grandmother sighed, and simply said to no one specifically:

Grandmother: “He only has a head so that he can get a haircut.” *Er hat denn Kopf nur zur Haare schneiden.*

She loved us all dearly, but did worry a little more about our brother than the rest. She was happy when he finally graduated from school and got a job… in an ice cream factory!

I think I got this from a TV show, but I told my girls that the ice cream truck only played music when it was out of ice cream…

One day my sister asked her nieces:

Sister: “Oh, I hear the ice cream truck! Who wants some ice cream?!”

My oldest daughter turned to my sister and told her in a corrective tone:

Daughter: “Aunt [Sister’s Name], everyone knows the trucks only play music when they’re all out of ice cream…”

The look on her face as she stared at me, realizing what I had done, was pretty classic.

A few years later, my sister had kids of her own, and this time it’s my turn to hear the ice cream truck and ask my niece and nephew:

Me: “Who wants some ice cream?!”

Niece: “Aunt [My Name], everyone knows that’s the fish truck. They don’t sell ice cream…”

I can imagine the look on my face as I stared at my sister was similar to how she looked back then…

We were at a very popular off-leash area the day after Christmas, with lots of dogs happily playing and running, chasing after frisbees and balls.

This sweet family showed up, sans dog. Their young son wanted to try out his new foam toy plane.

Me: “Uh, guys, this is an off-leash area. If he throws that, the dogs will think it’s a toy for them.”

The mom looks around and realizes.

Mom: “Oh, we didn’t notice!”

She turns to her son to tell him not to throw it…

…just as he threw it.

A dog saw it, came running, jumped and grabbed it mid-air, and proceeded to parade proudly, trying to get other dogs to chase him, which they of course did, and then broke it into pieces in the tussle.

The contrast between that cheeky, over-the-moon-happy flat-coated retriever and a devastated boy was sad and hilarious at the same time.

The dog owner ran over and apologized profusely, and gave the mom some cash to buy a new toy (it was about five bucks). The tears instantly disappeared.

Dog Owner: “I promise I am trying to raise my dog, but with mixed results!”

Mom: “Same here with my kids!”

The boy ended up having a happy half hour playing with all the goodest boys, so at least he enjoyed his time in the park, and the parents (new to the area) learned what off-leash means!

I’m admiring a pond bustling with wildlife in a local park, when a small boy shouts to his mother:

Boy: “Look, Mummy, a moron!”

Mother: “No, darling, it’s pronounced moorhen.”

I’m walking my dog in a city park. It’s not a dog park, so dogs are supposed to be leashed. I sometimes see some dogs unleashed, but they’re usually well behaved, walking in even keel with their owners, so I tend to ignore them.

I see one man and his (admittedly beautiful) huge dog in the park. The dog is running free, and I mean RUNNING. He’s friendly and boisterous but scaring some people, and trying to aggressively befriend every dog he sees, some of whom are nervous and growling. 

The man is either oblivious to all this or doesn’t care.

Me: “Excuse me, but there’s a dog park area on the eastern side of the park.”

Guy: “Oh, he’s fine.”

Me: “He needs to be on a leash.”

Guy: “He needs freedom.”

I shrug, consider the guy a bit of an a**hole, and continue on my walk.

I do half a circuit of the park when I see the same big, beautiful dog running toward the pond with reckless abandon. The guy is running after him, shouting at him to stop. 

The dog launches himself into the pond and starts splashing about with glee. The guy finally catches up to him, panting, not too happy with how his dog now looks. He catches my eye.

Me: “Gotta love that freedom, amirite?”