Dirt Made My Lunch

, , , , , | Related | July 27, 2020

My son’s girlfriend, who lives with us, has a bunch of pet hermit crabs who also live with us. She recently bought a new tank for them, but the pet store didn’t have the sterilized dirt and sand she needed for the bottom.

My son does some research and finds that raising the sand/dirt to such-and-such a temperature for some amount of time will kill all the bad microbes. He proceeds to fill two pans — one with dirt and one with sand — and bake them in the oven. The smell that results is… interesting, to say the least.

My husband comes home and enters the kitchen.

Husband: “What’s cooking?” *Opens the oven* “Is that dirt?”

Me: “Yep.”

Husband: “Why are you baking dirt?”

Me: “This is what happens when you ask [Son] to cook dinner.”

I let him give me puzzled looks for a good thirty seconds before I explained.

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But The Internet Is Forever

, , , , , , | Romantic | July 25, 2020

My wife and I have been together for nine years, living together for seven years, and married for almost four years. For the first two years of our relationship, we were long distance, and part of how we communicated with each other was through writing daily haiku on each other’s Facebook profiles. I am scrolling through my Facebook memories when I see a haiku my wife wrote for me in 2012.

Amused, I walk to the bedroom where my wife is playing our Switch. Note that I can be very loud and obnoxious, and I love doing very weird and cartoonish voices when I’m bored.

Me: “Hey. Apparently, in 2012, you wrote this haiku: ‘I love hearing your / voice, and I wish I could hear / it all of the time.'”

Wife: “Uh-huh.”

Me: *Smirking* “How do you feel now?”

She pauses.

Wife: “File that under ‘Things that did not age well.'”

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Your Days Are Numbered, Kiddo

, , , , , | Related | July 21, 2020

After I have been given an iPad as a gift, my husband needs the passcode for it. My son is twenty.

Son: “Mum, Dad wants the passcode that you chose for the IPad.”

He gives me no time to answer before he laughs.

Son: “I bet you forgot what it is; I told you not to choose a number too hard to remember. Hey, Dad, she’s probably forgotten.”

I was coming to them as I wasn’t going to yell the code across the house, and I prattle off a six-digit number when I enter the room.

Son: “What was that again?”

I repeat the number.

Son: “How can you remember a ridiculous number like that? What do you think, Dad?”

Husband: “I don’t know. It must mean something to her; no idea what, though.”

I slowly repeat the number and add two more numbers to the end.

Son: “That’s eight numbers; we only need six.”

Husband: “Who knows what goes on in your mother’s head?”

I roll my eyes and talk even slower, adding two more numbers this time to the beginning of the number.

Me: “Zero… Two… [the rest of numbers].”

Son: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Husband: *finally catching on* “Um… It’s our house phone number. Better be quiet now before she hits us with something.”

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Old Flames Going Up In Smoke

, , , , , , , | Romantic | July 18, 2020

Just after my husband and I were married, we lived with his parents while searching for a place of our own. Their house was old and had a few problems.

Our bedroom had a closet in which one wall was the bricks of the chimney. One day, while we were away, there was a fire. Luckily, not much was damaged.

Or so we thought.

We had a box containing about two dozen letters written to my husband when he dated other women and a single letter from and a photo of one of my old boyfriends.

We soon discovered that, while all my husband’s mementos had survived, my two mementos had been completely destroyed.

Burnt to ash. 

In the same box with my husband’s uncharred items.

Yeah, my mother-in-law never liked me.

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The Failed Sequel To “Snakes On A Plane”

, , , | Romantic | July 15, 2020

I’ve been having very vivid dreams lately. One night, I bolt upright in bed, waking up my partner. I scramble for my phone.

Partner: “What’s wrong?”

Me: “I have to check my online order history.”

Partner: “Wait, why?”

Me: “I don’t want to say.”

After scrolling through my orders, I’m relieved. I put my phone away and we go back to sleep. The next day, my partner asks me about it.

Partner: “Why did you need to check your order history at 1:00 am?”

Me: *Embarrassed* “I had a dream that I’d ordered a bunch of snakes for a prank. But I didn’t end up going through with the prank, so I put the box of snakes in the garage and forgot about it for two weeks.”

Partner: “What?”

Me: “And I woke up worried that I’d accidentally killed like twenty snakes.”

Partner: “And the first thing you did after waking up was check your phone? Not the garage?”

Me: “Of course not! It could’ve been full of angry snakes!”

This story is part of our July 2020 Roundup – the best stories of the month!

Read the next July 2020 Roundup story!

Read the July 2020 Roundup!

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