My wife and I are talking to another couple at a house party about travel plans in the coming year.

Me: “We were thinking about going to Las Vegas as it’s always somewhere I’ve been curious about.”

Friend Husband: “We’ve been there! It’s fun, but don’t go during the summer. The humidity is crazy.”

Me: “Humidity? Really? But it’s so dry there.”

Friend Husband: “Yeah, it’s a dry humidity.”

My wife and I share a look. The wife of the other couple changes subjects and then ushers him away. Later, she finds us alone.

Friend Wife: “Yeah, he thinks humidity means heat. Doesn’t matter what I say, or what Google says, or what our son, who is a f****** meteorologist, says, he’s dying on that hill. Anyway, have fun in Vegas!”

I’m hosting a three-year-old’s birthday party at a kiddie-themed venue, so lots of parents and their kids/toddlers are running around that we know from daycare.

 A couple walks in with their toddler son.

Parent: “Where can we put his bag in case you need anything?”

Me: *Confused by the question.* “Feel free to keep it at any table you choose to sit.”

Parent: “Oh, we’re just dropping off our little one. We’ll be back to pick him up after the party is done in a couple of hours.”

Me: “We cannot watch your child. We are only hosting the party; nobody here can be left responsible for watching your child. You will need to stay.”

Parent: “He is super simple to watch, and you won’t have a problem at all. Just call us if there is one.”

Me: “That will not be happening. Once again, we are busy hosting. You need to stay with your child.”

Parent: “Well, I guess he and the gift we brought will not be able to stay because we have shopping to do.”

Me: “Thank you for stopping by.”

They blankly stared at me, shocked that their threat did not work. Of course, their kid had a tantrum about having to leave so fast, so they stayed for the first half of the party. They still walked out with their gift, though (oh darn, one less random Amazon kid’s toy).

Who in their right mind thinks it is okay to drop off a three-year-old with people they have never met before, other than a daycare?

I’m talking to a friend of a friend at a college party, talking about interests.

Me: “As for me, I’m fascinated by the historic nature of myths. My thesis is actually about the idea of dragons developing over time.”

Friend Of Friend: “Is that a bit like dinosaurs? People say they used to exist, but no one really knows.”

Me: “Uh, no, dinosaurs definitely existed.”

Friend Of Friend: “Yeah, but no one knoooows.”

Me: “There’s a fossil record.”

Friend Of Friend: “Were you there?”

Me: “I didn’t need to be. There’s a fossil record. That’s evidence.”

Friend Of Friend: “I don’t know… I need to see it to believe it.”

Friend: “[Friend Of Friend], aren’t you taking American History?”

Friend Of Friend: “Yeah…”

Friend: “When was the Gettysburg Address?”

Friend Of Friend: *Proudly.* “November 19th, 1863.”

Friend: “You know that for sure?”

Friend Of Friend: “Yup! I study!”

Friend: “Then… wow, you look really good for your age.”

Friend Of Friend: “Huh?”

Friend: “I mean, you must have been there, since that’s the only way you know things happened in the past, right? You must be almost 180 years old! Congrats!”

Friend Of Friend: “What are you talking about! There are records! We know it happened!”

Me: “[Friend Of Friend], so when I said ‘fossil record’ what did ‘record’ mean?”

Friend Of Friend: “Oh that’s different! Those were bones put there by Satan to make people doubt God!”

Me: *Blinking, then turning to my friend.* “Well, thanks [Friend], this has been great. I’ll go over there now…”

It was my dad’s birthday. Our family has low-key birthdays; no restaurants, no big parties, no drinking. We buy presents and BBQ steaks on each birthday, plus a baked potato and salad. Restaurant-quality dinner, but easier and cheaper.

Dad comes in from the mailbox with the mailed birthday cards from family. After dinner, he opens them. 

Inside one small box is a joke gift from my aunt: a fridge magnet of a can of beer that makes the sound of a can opening, someone drinking, and then saying “Ahh,” in satisfaction. 

Dad sighs heavily and facepalms. Then he upends the box, and a few gift cards slide out.

Dad: “Only my sister would be goofy enough to put a fridge magnet in the same box as magnetic strip gift cards.”

To the surprise of no one, yes, the fridge magnet scrambled the data on the magnetic stripes. 

On the plus side, Dad got some good mileage from sharing the story with every cashier who had to put the ID number in manually. My aunt never lived it down.

Apparently, a family BBQ that I missed turned into a bit of drama involving an altercation between my dad and an in-law.

I overheard my mom on the phone with the in-laws’ spouse, discussing what to do with their husbands. The morning after the BBQ. I am just waking up to hear my mom’s side of the conversation with zero context.

Mom: “Look, I know your husband is a police officer.”

Pause.

Mom: “Yes, I know that [Dad] said, “f*** the police”.”

Pause.

Mom: “But if your husband hadn’t gone straight to punching, he would have heard him follow up that statement with, “Sting’s solo work is much better”.”