I work for a big box store as a backroom employee. The core of my job is to unload trucks and stock shelves, which means I handle a lot of product and open a lot of boxes. Unfortunately for me, I have delicate hands that seem to get cut on just about anything I touch, including deodorant and blankets. I’ve tried various gloves, and I’d rather face the paper cuts than rashes from the gloves I can find. It’s a running joke at work that I consume an excessive amount of bandaids daily.

This time, I’m helping to stock refrigerated items, and lo and behold, the edge of a package of cheese nicks me pretty good. Recounting this event later in the break room, I tell my coworkers this:

Me: “It was some sharp cheddar.”

Cue a room full of groaning.

I am a tourist at an art museum in Rome. I am admiring paintings that are hundreds of years old and most containing Christian themes. As I go around the room and look at the paintings, I notice a woman behind me, huffing and tutting, camera in hand.

I notice that she is trying to take pictures of all the paintings containing Jesus, and as I admire the paintings slowly, I keep getting in her way. This keeps happening, and eventually, a security guard notices.

Guard: “Madam, no photos allowed.”

Tourist: *Scowling at me* “I wouldn’t have been so obvious if he hadn’t been hogging all the Jesus!”

I’m in college, home for the weekend, and I have a bad headache. I tend to take as little over-the-counter medication as possible to avoid building up an immunity, but my head is really bothering me, so I take ibuprofen. My dad sees me shake out a single pill.

Dad: “You okay?”

Me: “Yeah, just a bad headache.”

Dad: “Come on, at least take an adult dose!”

Me: “It’s fine. I’m good with just one.”

Mom: “You heard your dad. The answer is always more drugs.”

He yelled, “NO!” while we laughed.

The hotel kitchen I work in is partially open-plan, meaning people in the restaurant can look in. When it’s not lunch/dinner service time, the restaurant is closed up but not locked since hotel guests need to pass through to get to the courtyard if they want something from our cafe area.

During one of these closed times, another chef and I are prepping food when a young man with his little daughter comes in. The girl is wearing a pirate hat, eyepatch, and the typical blue-and-white-striped marine shirt and neckerchief, and she’s carrying a wood toy saber.

Dad: “Hi, sorry to bother you. Can we ask you a question about the menu?”

Me: “Absolutely!”

Dad: *To his little pirate* “Go on. These are the cooks. They’ll know.”

The little pirate, hiding behind her dad’s legs, stares at us and then grins and shouts in her loudest, most “gruff” voice:

Little Pirate: “WHAT’S THE CATCH OF THE DAY?!”

I had to resist laughing very hard, while the other chef ducked down to hide his giggles. I told her the catch of the day was salmon trout, but the fish fingers on our kids’ menu were also fresh from the sea, wink-wink.

The little pirate, now dressed as a normal little girl, was very happy with her fish fingers when her family came in for dinner.

I work as a behavior interventionist. Basically, I observe certain students’ behaviors and come up with ideas to help them be successful in school. I then implement the plans (once approved) and collect data so the school can track progress. I love my job, and seeing the progress students make is incredible. It also happens to be shortly after the song “What Does The Fox Say?” has gone viral.

The student I’m working with now has unintentionally deceptive body language. The same body language could be signs of a bunch of different things, and it’s my job to figure it out.

The science teacher rented a bunch of animal pelts and the students have the option to touch/examine them. They can choose not to, though. The student I’m focusing on might be fine, might be shutting down, might be stressed about the dead animals, might be about to blow, or might just want to draw. This kid is an enigma.

A wonderful child notices their body language, and instead of drawing attention to them and asking, “Are you okay?”, they begin petting the fox pelt and say, in the same way as the song:

Wonderful Child: “What does the fox say?”

Then, the kid drops their happy attitude.

Wonderful Child: “Nothing, the fox is dead.” 

My kid BURST out laughing, and I knew all was well.

That strategy of making a joke to test a student’s mental state is a tool I use now. I have to be careful, of course, about the time, place, and person, but it works! 

Thanks, random kid!