My family frequently goes skiing in the winter. We typically end up staying at a nearby hotel for one night per trip.

One weekend, I have to share a fold-out bed with one of my younger brothers, who is taller than me and quite lanky. I’m awake long after everyone else is asleep, being an insomniac. My brother sprawls out and I don’t want to touch him, so I’m basically clutching the side of the bed for dear life to keep from falling off.

Eventually, I get fed up with the awkward position and move to the floor, which at least has more room. Once I attempt to lay down, I realize that there is a freezing draft down there and remember seeing an extra blanket in the closet on the other side of the hotel room.

I wrap myself up in the white hotel blanket and slowly shuffle across the room, not wanting to trip or fall because I’m tired and walking in the dark without my glasses. While I’m making my slow trek across the room, my mother wakes up.

She told me the next morning that when she saw a shuffling figure all dressed in white and thought that she’d seen a ghost! I told her that no, it was me trying to get another blanket because my brother was being a bed hog. We had a good laugh about it.

(It’s the day of a major American holiday and my sister and mother are spending the day cooking that evening’s dinner. With limited counter space, four full burners, and a massive bird in the oven, things get messy and a little smokey. As the afternoon progresses, we assume the smoke is just from all the cooking until my sister opens the utility room door and a cloud of smoke billows out. The culprit is a pile of laundry which has been quietly smoldering. My sister had tossed a rag she used to wipe up some grease on top of the pile earlier, not noticing that one of the corners had caught fire on the burner. The laundry is hastily evacuated outside, doused with water, and stomped on for good measure. It’s as we’re looking to see if there’s anything left to put out that my sister spots something else.)

Sister: “Hah, I found what started the fire!”

(My sister lifts up a blackened elastic band. All of the cloth has burnt away but I recognize the band as belonging to a pair of my underwear.)

Mom: “[My Name], what have you been eating?!”

(My family has never let me live down the day I nearly burnt the house down with a pair of dirty undies.)

(I stay with my grandma most summers while my father works. I’m about eight years old, watching TV inside, and Grandma is outside working on her truck. Her landline phone rings.)

Me: *loudly through the open door* “Grandma! The phone is ringing!”

Grandma: “I’ve got oil on my hands; can you answer it and tell them I’ll be right there?”

Me: “Hello–“

Caller: *shouting* “You’re in so much trouble! You oughta be ashamed of yourself! I’m gonna call the sheriff on you and you’re gonna get arrested! And go to jail!“

(I hang up and burst into tears just as my grandma walks in.)

Grandma: “Honey, what happened? Why are you crying?”

Me: *blubbering* “The man on the phone was yelling at meeeee! He— He said he was gonna send me to jaaaaaail!”

(The phone rings again and Grandma snatches it off the receiver.)

Grandma: “Who is… [Grandma’s Brother]? Oh, Lord, do you have any idea what you just did, you idiot?”

(Turns out, Grandma’s brother, who lived nearby, noticed he was driving behind Grandma’s truck earlier in the day and that she had a tail light out. He figured he’d call his little sister up and “threaten” to call the sheriff — the sheriff at the time being their older brother. And the reason he was yelling into the phone? He was half-deaf at that point and too stubborn to wear his hearing aids. It took Grandma ten minutes to get me to stop crying, and I didn’t answer her phone again for a month!)

(My brother and I share a strong family resemblance, but since I’m a woman and about six inches shorter than him, it’s pretty easy to tell who’s who. He’s picking up lunch one day when a casual acquaintance walks up.) 

Acquaintance: *sincerely* “Hey! Now that you’ve got a beard I can finally tell you and your sister apart!”

Brother: *bewildered* “I don’t know which of us should be more bothered by that.”

Related:
Oh, Brother! – Part 3
Oh, Brother! – Part 2
Oh, Brother!

My sister is getting married. As her fiancé was raised Catholic, they’re having a Catholic wedding. Our side of the family is Christian, too, but we’re not familiar with Catholic rites or services, being a variety of other denominations. In addition, most of the friends of the bride and groom aren’t religious and so also aren’t familiar with Catholic practises.

Regardless of our inexperience, everything goes smoothly and my sister and her fiancé exchange vows and rings. The priest then invites my now brother-in-law to kiss his wife.

Awaiting the classic “I now pronounce you husband and wife” line which isn’t actually used, the guests don’t quite realise that this is the big moment and there are a few heartbeats of silence.

“There’s usually a big cheer right about here,” the priest prompts, and we all start clapping.

“We’d better try that again!” the priest jokes, inviting my brother-in-law to kiss his wife again.

This time we raise the roof with claps, cheers, and laughter!