(My toddler is sitting on the couch next to my husband and is playing with his large Spider-Man and Venom action figures by hitting them together. My husband gets his attention and he stops.)

Husband: “Don’t do that, son, or you’ll break them.”

(Our son suddenly drops Spider-Man on the couch next to him and starts cuddling Venom.)

Son: “Aww, baby! Mwah, mwah!” *kisses Venom’s head then cuddles him more*

Husband: *picks up Spider-Man and holds him out to our son* “What about him? Is he your baby, too?”

(Our son looks at Spider-Man, then at Venom, before snatching Spider-Man from my husband and throwing him on the floor. He then goes back to cuddling Venom and calling him “baby.”)

Husband: *laughs and shakes his head* “He prefers the villain, just like Mommy.”

Me: *cackles* “Good, good. The dark side always needs more people.”

(I am checking out a married couple at my till. It is just about sunset.)

Me: “Hi, how are you today?”

Husband: “Good.” *looks at wife* “She hasn’t killed me yet.”

Wife: *chuckling* “The day’s not over yet, honey.”

Related:

Death Becomes Her, Part 4

Death Becomes Her, Part 3

Death Becomes Her, Part 2

(My in-laws are visiting and my mother-in-law comments on my new purse, so I show it to her.)

Me: “You like it? I made it myself.”

Mother-In-Law: “Wow, that’s really nice! Where’d you get it?”

Husband: “Mom, she just told you that she made it.”

Mother-In-Law: “Oh? All I caught was, ‘See my new purse.’”

(I fight the urge to roll my eyes because that is NOT what I just said. She looks over the purse then looks at me.)

Mother-In-Law: “Can you teach me to sew? I have a sewing machine, but I don’t have the book for it. It was secondhand and the person who gave it to me lost it, so I don’t know how it works.”

Me: “Sure, if you bring it over one day I’ll see what kind of machine it is and look up the manual online. We could probably find one for free or very cheap.”

Mother-In-Law: “Okay. Then you can show me how to sew a purse like that, right?”

Me: *shakes head* “No, you should start with something simple, like a pillowcase or simple skirt, just to get the hang of it. This purse isn’t a beginner project, but we can find you a beginner’s purse pattern.”

Mother-In-Law: *scoffs* “If you can make it, how hard can it be?”

Husband: “That’s not very nice, Mom.”

Mother-In-Law: *feigning innocence* “What do you mean? She’s obviously new to this herself.”

Me: *calmly as possible* “No, I’m not. I’ve been sewing since I was 14 years old, and I am now 28, so I’ve been doing this for half my life. The pattern I used for this purse says that it is not recommended for beginners. After you have made a few simpler projects, I can help you make a purse like this in whatever fabric you like.”

Mother-In-Law: *sighs* “Well, I guess I could do that, then. Just let me know when you can teach me.”

(I don’t think I will have the time to teach her. Ever.)

(My husband and I work for the same company. Our daughter is in daycare. Our daycare has a strict rule about parents picking up their children no later than 5:45, which is perfectly reasonable. When our company holds its annual Golf Day, it is traditional for the day to end with a drawing for several nice prizes. On this particular day, the drawing has been delayed, and it is starting to get late.)

Me: “We’re going to have to leave soon; otherwise, we’ll be late picking up [Daughter].”

Husband: “I know. I hate to miss the drawing, though. The top prize is a mountain bike, and I’d love to win it. My bike is falling apart, and we can’t afford to replace it.”

Me: “Well, let’s give them five more minutes.”

(Five minutes come and go. No drawing yet.)

Me: *to the event organizer* “We have to get going. If we win a prize, could someone else accept it for us?”

Organizer: “Nope. You have to be here to accept it. We want to discourage people from sneaking off early.”

Me: “We’re not sneaking off early, though. We have to pick up our daughter from daycare.”

Organizer: *shrugs* “Too bad. That’s the rule.”

Husband: “Oh, well. We probably wouldn’t have won anything, anyway.”

(The next day, we found out that my husband’s name WAS called for the mountain bike, but because he wasn’t there, it was given to someone else. The worst part? The person who won it didn’t like us, and he gleefully rubbed it in our faces that we’d missed out.)

(My wife and I are both women. One Christmas, my mother-in-law gives us new pillows for our couch. She made the covers herself. They’re African print, with bare-breasted women.)

Mother-In-Law: “Your grandma told me to do something with this fabric specifically for you.”

Me: *later, when we’re alone* “How much should we read into this fabric choice?”

Wife: “I’m… honestly not sure.”