(I am in the car with my mom and brother to drop him off for school. I’ve been giving him a last-minute quiz to make sure he knows what he needs to for an upcoming test, so he’s a bit distracted.)

Brother: *kisses my mom and me on the cheek*

Me: “Aw, hey, that’s different! You don’t usually kiss me, too.”

Brother: “Whoops, sorry. I forgot.”

(My drama class is doing improv exercises.)

Teacher: “Okay, so imagine you’re making an energy ball. Imagine its size, weight, and what it’s made of. Be creative. [Student #1], what’s your ball made of?”

Student #1: “Bubblegum.”

Teacher: “What about you, [Student #2]?”

Student #2: “Music.”

Teacher: “And you, [My Name]?”

Me: *hoarse voice* “THE SOULS OF MY ENEMIES.”

(It’s 11th grade and for our term paper, we have to pick a book off of the teacher’s list and write a paper on it. I choose ‘All Quiet on the Western Front’ and turn in my first draft. Per procedure, the teacher has called me in for our mid-paper conference.)

Teacher: “Good thesis… You’ll need to clarify this sentence and this one is redundant.”

Me: “I’ll see what I can do…”

Teacher: “There is something that concerns me, though.”

Me: “What?”

Teacher: “You chose such a godless, faithless book. You must repent!”

Me: “It’s not my—”

Teacher: “Lay your sins at the foot of the cross and come to Jesus!”

(This is a common thing to be said to me, since I’m a Christian attending a Christian academy, but they think that you can’t be Mormon and a Christian and that I need to get saved.)

Me: “Thanks, but I already came to Jesus. Long time ago now.”

Teacher: “No, you haven’t! You clearly have no faith if you chose to write about such a godless book!”

Me: “YOU ASSIGNED IT!”

(My nephew is five, and has gotten in trouble at school with two other boys for yelling rude words, including ‘d***head,’ through the school gate at a woman passing by. His step-dad goes to pick him up after school and speak to the head teacher, and then drives him home.)

Nephew: “Is mummy mad?”

Step-Dad: “A bit, yeah. She’s upset that you were so naughty and used that word.”

Nephew: “Am I grounded?”

Step-Dad: “I don’t know. You apologised to the lady and Mrs. [Head Teacher]. You need to say sorry to mummy as well, though.”

Nephew: “I will.”

(There’s silence for a little bit, and then:)

Nephew: “[Step-Dad], what’s a d***head?”

(I’m at school, putting things in my locker when a boy walks over to my friend, who is next to me.)

Boy: “Do you have a mirror in your pocket? Because I can see me in your pants.”