Adorable, Lovable, Cute, Endearing, Sweet, And Darling

, , , , , | Related | April 3, 2021

When I am nine and my sister is five, our neighbor Roger decides he needs to live in an assisted living facility. Knowing that I play violin and piano, he gives me his clockwork, non-electronic metronome — a device that clicks to keep you on tempo. I put it on top of the rather tall upright piano.

Later that week, I am given an English assignment to use a thesaurus on a previously-written essay.

Me: “Mom, have you seen Roger’s Thesaurus anywhere?”

Mom: “What did you say?”

Sister: “What’s a thesaurus?”

Mom: “Did you say, ‘Roger’s Thesaurus’?”

Me: “Yeah, that’s what my teacher wants me to use.”

Sister: “What’s a thesaurus?”

Mom: “It’s not Roger’s; it’s Roget’s! I’ll call and ask your father where it is. I know we have one. Go ahead and get on the computer.”

I turn to explain to my sister what a thesaurus is, but she has left the room, so I head downstairs to the family desktop.

A couple of minutes later, I hear a crash from upstairs. Figuring it is my mom dropping things like usual, I ignore it. My sister then comes bounding down the stairs with a freshly-forming bruise on the side of her face, metronome in hand.

Sister: *Happily* “I got Roger’s dinosaur for you! I had to climb on the coffee table to get it, and the coffee table fell over and I fell, but don’t worry. I didn’t break anything. I’m okay, too.”

Me: “Um, thanks. That was really nice of you. But I don’t have to practice violin until later. Why’d you bring this to me? And why do you think it’s a dinosaur?”

Sister: “But you told Mom you needed Roger’s dinosaur for your English homework! This is the only thing Roger gave you!”

I figure out that the “saurus” in “thesaurus” confused her. I explain that this is a metronome and what a thesaurus is. 

Mom: “Your dad had the thesaurus in the shed for some— [Sister], are you okay?!”

Sister: “I’m fine! Give [My Name] the dinosaur book so it can teach her fancy words! [My Name], will you teach me some fancy dinosaur words, too?”

Twenty-five years later, my sister still calls long, complicated words “dinosaur words.” I still have that metronome.

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When This Is Your Job, They All Look The Same

, , , , , | Learning | March 28, 2021

I am a pre-k teacher and it is picture day. I have a set of identical twin girls in my classroom. Their mom asks me if I mind asking the photographer to get a picture of the two of them together. The school has used this photographer in the past and I know he’s usually willing to take a photo of siblings together. His assistant comes into the room, and one of the children she asks for, by first and last name, is one of the twins.

Me: “Would it be okay if [Other Twin’s First And Last Name] came, as well? They’re sisters and their mom would like to get a picture of the girls together.”

Mind you, I have both girls standing next to me. The only difference is that one wears glasses, but without the glasses or personally knowing the girls, you wouldn’t be able to tell them apart.

Assistant: *Rolls her eyes* “Are they siblings? Because we don’t do friends.”

There’s a very long pause before I respond.

Me: “They’re identical twins.”

She blushed and muttered an apology and took both girls. The girls thought it was very funny that the lady didn’t see that they were identical.

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That Darn Cat!

, , , , | Related | March 26, 2021

My younger brother, who is nine years old, has been playing the piano for a few years and works hard at it. One day, I find a video of a cat online and show it to him.

The video features a cat accidentally stepping on a piano, freaking out, falling over the keyboard, and running away, but the cat’s panicked movements on the keys manage to pound out a decent song.

When I show him the video, I expect him to laugh, but instead, he looks bewildered and heartbroken. He whispers, “That cat plays the piano better than me!”

He groans about the cat who plays piano better than him for two days. I now believe his goal is to play the piano better than the panicked cat.

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We Can Vouch For Your Slacking Skills!

, , , , , | Related | March 20, 2021

In order to revitalise the failing tourism industry in the wake of a certain health crisis, the Singaporean government has given every Singaporean adult $100 of vouchers that can be redeemed at most tourist attractions. I am above eighteen when the vouchers are handed out, so I get a share, as well.

Alas, the government forgot one minor issue. EVERYONE has a massive backlog of work and studies from the lockdown and quarantine, which means that no one has time to go visit tourist attractions. That’s why, several months later in February, my family’s entire supply of vouchers is still untouched.

Mom: “[My Name], you can have all of our vouchers. Go spend it all quickly.”

Me: “Huh? Why?”

Mom: “They’re about to expire really soon. It’ll be a waste if you don’t do it.”

Me: “Wait? Really? I thought they lasted until June.”

Mom: “Like I said. Really soon.”

I roll my eyes at my mom’s definition of “really soon.” It’s a common affliction among Singaporean housewives.

Me: “So why are you passing it to me instead of [Younger Brother]? My A-levels are in three months! I need to study.”

Younger Brother: “Yeah! Why are you giving him the vouchers?”

Mom: “Because [My Name] is the king of slacking off.”

Younger Brother: “No! I’m the king of slacking off! Nobody can be lazier than me!”

Me: “He’s not wrong.”

Mom: “Let me rephrase. [My Name] is the king of slacking off and is somehow still getting straight A’s. You are the king of slacking off and failing.”

That’s true. I played computer games the night before my GCSEs and still walked home with straight A’s. My oldest cousin is even better; he binged video games the week before his A-levels and somehow managed to get the single highest grades amongst the cousins.

My younger brother, on the other hand, actually has to deal with the consequences of laziness — namely, failing his exams because he didn’t study for them.

Younger Brother: “Not fair!”

Mom: “Life isn’t fair. Get double your current grades and we can renegotiate terms. In the meantime, your brother gets the vouchers.”

Me: “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m nineteen now — a legal adult. I can’t simply slack off like a kid anymore. I’m going to work hard and ace my A-levels! No more slacking off!”

Mom: “Okay, then. I’ll see if your cousins want them, instead.”

The very next day, it is announced that the international A-levels are cancelled due to the health crisis.

Me: *To my mom* “Can I have those vouchers now?”

Luckily, my cousins were facing a similar issue regarding the vouchers and were struggling to spend all of theirs, so they didn’t want ours on top of theirs. I got the money!

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Always A Sister, Sometimes A Bridesmaid

, , , , , | Related | March 19, 2021

I’m the oldest of three sisters. The youngest sister is fully in her gothic elegance/vampire-esque fashion style. She’s had to really fight our parents about wearing it; despite her looking extremely smart in it, they can’t get over the fact that it’s black on black, so at this time she’s been refusing to change her style for ANYONE and ANYTHING. She also works in fashion and knows seasonal trends, etc. She’s ideal to have around if you want style advice, basically. The middle sister — [Bride] in this story — has a very effeminate style — bright and pastel colours and florals.

[Bride] is getting married and is having a spring-themed wedding, which she clarifies to mean light colours, pastels, and florals. Her bridesmaids — the groom’s sisters, her friends — go from being great and loving the light pinky-purple dresses [Bride] picked to suddenly hating them after [Bride] pays for them. They start demanding that she buys them black dresses that are really, really short and reveal a lot; it’s pretty clear that they want [Bride] to pay for party dresses for them.

I then find out from [Youngest Sister] that Mum has been steamrolling every appointment so it’s what SHE wants rather than [Bride], and when [Bride] stands up for herself, Mum calls her a Bridezilla and threatens to not let her have use of a family heirloom that’s been used for every wedding in our family for literal centuries.

We are in a group chat, just the three of us sisters. None of us have discussed what [Youngest Sister] and I are wearing for the wedding. [Bride] has been messaging us complaining about the bridesmaids.

Bride: “It’s just OBVIOUS they just want a free outfit from me! I don’t have that kind of money.”

Youngest Sister: “Plus, like, you’re the one who has to live with the photos. I’ve tried that with Mum, by the way, and she’s still not budging on the holly jacket and dark green skirt.”

Me: “They’re s*** friends. Drop ‘em. Also, how dark is this green?”

Youngest Sister: “It’s pine green. Literally the colour of a Christmas tree. I have no patience for her. ‘It’s flooooraaaaaaal and green is new groooooowth.’ BS! It’s not. It’s obviously from the autumn/winter collection. It even says it on the label!”

Bride: “Thanks for trying. Oh, by the way, you know that velvet floral thing you have?”

Youngest Sister: “You mean the one dad calls my funeral attire, yes?”

Bride: “Yeah. Can you wear it to the wedding?”

Youngest Sister: “I mean… I can, but I did buy something specific for the wedding.”

Me: “Ooh, so did I. Do you have photos?”

Youngest: “Sure do. I’ll send them through. But like, I’ll wear whatever you want, [Bride]”

We wait for the photos to come through. I am shocked to see that it’s a pencil/shift dress with a rose pink bodice and a white rose floral design for the bottom with the roses outlined in black. She’s coupled it with a black shrug, black and pink shoes with roses on them, and a pink fascinator/hat that has a little veil effect.

Me: “This is mine!”

I share what I picked out, which is from the same collection as [Youngest Sister]’s dress. Mine is an A-line with the white floral rose print on the bodice and the skirt section entirely in the rose pink. I’ve coupled it with a white shrug and white and pink shoes.

Youngest Sister: “Oh, my!”

Me: “We match!”

Bride: “Did you match on purpose?”

Youngest Sister: “I spent a long time looking at that one but couldn’t deal with the amount of rose pink on that one, though I love the silhouette.”

Me: “We didn’t talk about it! I tried that one on but the hips said no.”

Youngest Sister: “We didn’t. And just as well your hips don’t lie, really. But anyway. I’ll wear what you want me to do, in this case.”

Bride: “But you HATE pink! And… colours! You’re a beautiful, gothic fairytale living your best life and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable!”

Youngest Sister: “I hate them for making you cry more than I hate pink. I’m gonna give them a shock and show ’em how it’s supposed to be done since they’re s***s.”

Bride: “Christ. Like. Wow. Okay. If you’re happy to. Like. Thank you.”

The subject changes and a few days go by. Then, we get this.

Bride: “I was trying to compromise with the two s***s and was telling them how my very gothic sister has gone with a pink and white dress… which matches my other sister’s dress… and then it clicked. Why am I wasting my time with those two?! F*** ‘em! Will you be my bridesmaids, instead?”

Naturally, we agreed. Our parents did think this meant that [Youngest Sister] had moved on from her phase, but they were quickly disappointed. Whenever Mum nagged her over her clothing, she’d just point out the winter suit Mum wore to a spring wedding.


This story is part of our Best Of March 2021 roundup!

Read the next Best Of March 2021 roundup story!

Read the Best Of March 2021 roundup!

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