When I was younger, I didn’t put any effort into finding a job. I wasn’t lazy; I just couldn’t find anything I really wanted to do. 

Rather than letting me sit on my a** waiting for inspiration, my parents found me a little job working a few hours, cleaning for some business contact they had.

It started with a few hours a week. Then, suddenly, after some big argument, one of the other cleaners disappeared and I was asked to work more.

I agreed, and I’m glad I did because a few days later, the cleaner turned back up. She was shouting at the owner, saying something about his wife.

I started “cleaning” around the window to see what was going on.

Cleaner: “I told you. You could have prevented all this.”

Owner: “I’m not going to be blackmailed by you!”

Cleaner: “You could have avoided all this. Now she is going to know. Big mistake.”

The owner’s wife came out.

Wife: “What’s going on? Is this the cleaner you fired?”

Owner: “Yes. Go back inside, please.”

Cleaner: “Yes, go back inside. You don’t want to find out about the other woman. Oops, now you know.”

Wife: “What other woman? What is she saying?”

Owner: “I didn’t want you to find out. It’s my sister; she’s been coming round.”

Cleaner: “Oh, don’t believe him, sweetie. He is full of lies.”

Owner: “She’s been coming round to help sort out your surprise party. Look, we’ve planned everything.” *Hands her his phone* “My sister’s friend is a baker and, well, look.”

Wife: “Oh, darling, it looks amazing. Thank you so much!”

Owner: “I know you didn’t want a fuss, but…”

The three of them stood there. I was surprised the cleaner hadn’t run for it.

Owner: *To the cleaner* “As for you, I’m speaking to the agency tonight. And the police!”

They went back inside. The cleaner looked shocked and didn’t move. I ended up going back to cleaning with her still standing there.

I never found out what happened to the cleaner, but I was offered extra to clean after the party, and judging by the mess, I’m sure that went well!

My family attended a work-related party. My husband’s coworkers had not yet met me or our children, so I was asked many questions. Some were invasive rather than curious.

One woman glared at my husband on and off while we spoke. Finally, she started to ask questions about my age, which I deftly sidelined. Then, she gave up on subtlety.

Woman: “You seem too young to have children this old.” 

My husband is only four years older than I am; I just look young.

I could see what she was implying and thought, “Game on!”

Me: *Blandly* “Oh, these are my husband’s kids with his first wife.”

Confusion played across her face.

Oldest Son: “Mom, you are Dad’s first wife!”

The woman left our group even more confused. I did have to explain to my kids that I said that to stop her probing and, frankly, insulting questions.

When I was running a lot, I was in several online running clubs. We’d talk about training tips, give race reports, discuss the impressive runners, share motivational tricks, and just yuk it up about running stuff. Cool.

There was a woman in one club who told us about a friend of hers, another runner, who was married to a guy who liked to hunt.

[Husband] decided to take a buddy to his deer-hunting cabin out in the sticks where he spent nearly a week every year. It was an annual thing.

[Buddy] came over the night before they were leaving to help pack all the hunting gear and get ready for an early start in the morning. He was going to sleep on the couch to save time.

As the guys were packing the rifles, camouflage, food, blankets, cooking stuff, and everything else they’d need for several days, they decided to open one of the twelve-packs of beer they were taking on the trip.

[Husband] left detailed instructions for his wife on how to finish packing everything in the camper-covered pickup truck, which was parked beside the garage, backed in so they could just take off in the early dark. 

He also requested that she pack their breakfast and lunch for the long ride to the hunting grounds, make sure the truck was full of gas, and set the alarm for the guys, maybe waking them up if need be.

The guys had fun messing around finishing the beer and got to bed early. They left hours worth of work for [Wife].

She dutifully finished all the tasks, but she added her own touch after packing everything.

The hunters left in the early dark, coffee in hand and breakfast in the cooler. The truck was fully packed, so they drove a bit slower than traffic and stayed in the right lane. They were gonna do the primal thing and bring home some meat!

It went well, but the guys noticed that a lot of people were tapping their horns as they passed while it was still dark. After the sun came up, even more honks were heard as people passed. 

They’d just smile and wave at the cars as they went by, but they were kind of getting tired of being honked at all times. 

Three hours into the trip, well into the morning light and after hearing several dozen horns, they stopped at a gas station to refuel, stretch their legs, and maybe get some fresh coffee.

As [Husband] walked around the truck to head into the store, he saw something on the back window, written in big letters with bright white shoe polish.

“Just Married!”

My husband and I work for different companies, but both are overly motivating and overly praising. Whenever someone does something, it gets met with praise. While I know a lot of people appreciate getting some sort of recognition, my husband and I are tired of getting praised as if we’ve solved world hunger after handing in an assignment or bringing a cup of coffee. I know a lot of companies don’t care for their employees, so I know I sound like a spoiled person. 

This has resulted in us playfully mocking each other whenever one of us does something small. We have the same type of humor, so neither is offended by it. 

One day, we visit my mother-in-law. Her husband is working in the garden. Everything goes calmly, and my husband decides to get up and get a cup of tea. As a force of habit, I blurt out:

Me: “I believe in you! Go for it! I’m proud of you!”

I do say this kind of deadpan, and my mother-in-law looks up with a serious expression. 

Mother-In-Law: “Oh, you say this often?”

Me: “Oh, eh, sorry, force of habit.”

I think she is joking or even reprimanding me. 

Mother-In-Law: “Do they do this at your home, as well? Do your parents support each other so much?”

Me: “My parents? Nah, it’s just something between us.”

Mother-In-Law: “I can’t remember when my husband praised me… nor when I praised him!”

I realize my mother-in-law is serious. She gets up and walks out to her husband. 

Mother-In-Law: “I just wanted to say you did a great job in the garden. I’m proud of you!”

Father-In-Law: “Eh… thanks?”

My father-in-law looks at my mother-in-law, bewildered, and my mother-in-law sits down again. 

Mother-In-Law: “I should do that more often.”

Glad to be of service?

On our honeymoon in Greece, we nearly get stranded driving our little scooter back from a day trip as it is running out of fuel. We finally find a petrol station in this village, but it’s during afternoon nap/siesta time. We tap on the glass door of the station and a guy steps forward looking groggy.

Me: “Sorry, we didn’t want to wake you up, but we’re almost out of petrol, and we don’t want to be driving back in the dark later.”

We apologise as best we can in the little Greek we know. The guy obliges but looks a little annoyed.

Station Owner: “Where are you from?”

Me: “New Zealand.”

His face lights up and he looks amazed.

Station Owner: “I have never met someone from New Zealand before! What are you doing so far away from home?”

Me: “It’s our honeymoon.”

He tells us to wait there and comes back with a bottle of wine that’s obviously worth more than the €6 of petrol we are buying. He refuses to let us round up the bill for the petrol or buy anything to make up for it.

Station Owner: “Honeymoon is honeymoon. Be happy. Go.”

Hands down one of the best highlights of our trip.