(I am 17 years old. My mother and I are in Paris, France, for a couple of days so that I can take the entrance exam for one of the universities I’ve applied to. This conversation happens in French while waiting to go into the exam room. My family is mostly bilingual.)
Me: “I’m really nervous. What if I fail? I kept failing a lot of the general knowledge questions in the practice tests.”
Mom: “It’ll be fine; you’ll see. Want a hug?”
Me: *in English, taking a step back, unable to choose the best words* “No! I don’t love you in public.”
(A random person nearby burst out laughing at the horror in my voice at being seen in public with my mother.)
Years ago, when I first started dating my now-husband, we were together with his kids: a five-year-old daughter and a seven-year-old son. I don’t know how this conversation got started, but we were discussing relationships boundaries. As far as “looking” went, I said that my philosophy with my significant other was, “It doesn’t matter where you get your appetite from, as long as you come home for dinner,” meaning that I can’t stop them from “looking,” but it is not something that I am insecure about. I didn’t even think about the kids being there, figuring they wouldn’t understand what I was talking about.
Wrong!
Months later, we were all in the car driving somewhere. While stopped at a light, I noticed a nice-looking guy walking by and started checking him out — not ogling or drooling, just looking — when suddenly from the back seat, his daughter screamed out, “[MY NAME], STOP CHECKING OUT THE MENU!”
I laughed so hard, then. Thirteen years later, I still kid her about it.
I was shopping for cereal one day when I noticed something odd further down the row. Approaching it, I discovered that there was a bundle of asparagus that had been shoved behind a box of cereal on the bottom row.
Based on how low it was and the fact that it was obviously hidden, I can only surmise that some kid waited until their mother’s back was turned before ditching a hated vegetable.
(My four-year-old son and I are home alone. I go to use the bathroom while he’s playing with his toys. As soon as I have closed the door and sat down, he comes barreling down the hall and barges in.)
Son: “What’s that sound?”
Me: “That’s the sound of me peeing.”
Son: “I don’t like it.”
Me: “Then don’t come in here.”
(My daughter’s car is in the shop, and as a result she and I are sharing my car for a few days. I have some errands to run before she goes to work.)
Me: “I’m leaving now, but I’ll be back in time for you to go to work. Do you want me to leave my spare keys, in case you have to go anywhere before I get back?”
Daughter: “Um… Mom? Think about what you just said.”
Me: “This conversation never happened.”
(She was still laughing as I walked out the door.)
