(I am about eight years old. I wake up before my parents one Sunday morning and decide I want to do something nice for them and make breakfast. Setting the table goes fine, making tea goes fine — water-heater, so no stove involved — but then I come to the bread. On a normal Sunday, my mom will eat just a few slices of bread, my dad a croissant, and I a breakfast roll. The thing is, I don’t know the breakfast rolls are bake-off bread, while the other stuff is just frozen. So, little oblivious me just puts everything in the microwave to defrost it. When the microwave pings, the slices and croissant are ready, but the roll still looks “frozen.” No biggie, I think; maybe it just needs longer to defrost. So, I put the roll back in the microwave, set the timer as far as it will go, thinking I can check up on it every couple of minutes until it is done, and turn it on again. Then, I go to watch TV and, as you can imagine, pretty much forget about the roll, until after a while I notice a burning smell and smoke coming out of the kitchen. I turn off the microwave, open it — more smoke — open the garden door, usher the dogs and cat outside because I think they shouldn’t be in a room that is full of smoke, and go upstairs to tell my parents. They are both still sound asleep. As my mom is sick, I try and wake up my dad.)

Me: *softly* “Dad?”

Dad: *snores*

Me: *louder* “Dad.”

Dad: *grumbles*

Me: *shaking his shoulder* “Daaad.”

Dad: *grumpily* “What?”

Me: “The kitchen’s full of smoke.”

Dad: “WHAT?!”

(You can bet he flew out of bed after hearing that. Thankfully, my well-intentioned mishap caused no permanent damage, and my parents were even able to laugh about it… after the microwave was cleaned out.)

(I’m on the phone with my mother, discussing my parents’ visit next weekend. Since both are obnoxiously nosy, traditional, and fearsome about nearly everything in life, I tend to keep relationships to myself to keep things healthy.)

Mother: “So, do we get to see [New Boyfriend]?”

Me: “Oh, he can’t be there this weekend.”

Mother: “Oh. Why not?!”

Me: “He can’t make it. He isn’t there.”

Mother: “Ah! Why! Not! I am so eager to meet him!”

Me: “He isn’t around that day.”

Mother: “Now I can’t meet him. I so hoped for it.”

Me: “Well, he just isn’t here this weekend.”

Mother: “Why can’t he? It’s the first time we get to see him.”

Me: “He is not around, not in town…”

Mother: *deep sigh*

Me: “But we will come to [Aunt]’s party in June.”

Mother: “Aaaaahh! Not fair!”

Me: “Why so…”

Mother: “Now [Aunt] gets to see him first!”

Me: “That depends who sees him first at the party, I guess?”

Mother: “Just isn’t fair. Why can’t we see him this weekend?!”

Me: “He is just not around.”

Mother: *keeps muttering until I change the subject*

(Mind you, I used to have a cat which was afraid of her. Every year on my birthday, she would sneak out of the living room and chase the trembling cat until I dragged her — my mother — back to the living room, and my father told her to stay put on the couch and not chase the poor cat. She kept trying. My boyfriend is not going to be around during their visit this weekend!)

(My office hands out an Easter goodie: a limited-edition chocolate bar of a famous fair-trade chocolate brand. It’s clearly an Easter edition, with Easter eggs and the word “Easter” on it. After Easter, we have a few left.)

Me: *to a couple of coworkers* “If someone wants, they can have a second chocolate bar!”

(A coworker practically dives on top of the bars.)

Coworker: “Ooh, I needed a gift for my wife! It has been such a while since I gave her anything!”

Me: *jokingly* “So, your wife gets free Easter chocolate after Easter?”

Coworker: “Don’t judge me! We’re Muslim, so we don’t give a s*** about Easter, anyway.”

(I hope she’ll like the chocolate bar.)

(I work for the customer service of a web-store. I get this call:)

Client: “I keep on mailing, but I just won’t get a reply!”

Me: “That is strange; all mails are answered.”

Client: “Oh, so, he’s doing this on purpose?!”

Me: “Let me look into your file… No, I don’t see any emails. I don’t think we received any. Where did you mail to?”

Client: “To Mister No-Ree-Plee.”

Me: “I don’t know that name; which department is he from?”

Client: “How should I know?! He always mails me when I order something, but never responds when I mail back.”

Me: *things start to clear* “Sir… are you talking about our ‘No Reply’ email address?”

Client: “Well, maybe you pronounce it like that… Go talk to him!”

Me: “Sir… ‘No Reply’ means you can’t respond to this email. If you want to contact customer service, you should use [address].”

Client: “Well, how was I supposed to know that?! And who have I been mailing with, then?!”

Me: “That would be our computer, then.”

Client: “Can’t you tell him to mail back that I used the wrong address?!”

(I’m a sysadmin at a school. As I’m the only one taking care of IT, I’m responsible for everything concerning IT, from ordering toner cartridges for printers to server maintenance, and everything in between. I do, however, have two people to answer to: the vice principal and the principal of the school. The principal is easy. He told me when I was hired:)

Principal: “I don’t care what you do or when you do it. I only want you to take care of everything IT-ish. As long as everything runs smoothly, I’m good.”

(The vice principal is a different type of person who is always trying to boss me around and trying to interfere in my work. One day, I get complaints that computers randomly start temporarily losing their network connection. I soon discover that a network switch is having problems, but I have to wait until school’s out before I can replace it. I tell the principal what the problem is and that I can fix it, but not right now because that would mean that the entire network would go down. The principal understands, and we agree that’s it’s wiser to wait. So, when everyone’s gone, I start replacing the switch. This involves disconnecting a lot of cables, replacing the switch, patching the cables again, and configuring the switch, which takes me a couple of hours. This solves the problem, but I still have to sync some servers and do some tests. At three am, I go home, knowing that everything is fine. I leave a note on principal’s desk with what I’ve done and at what time I finished. I don’t clock in or out. I pretty much come and go as I please, usually. The next day, I show up at school around noon. As soon as the vice principal sees me:)

Vice Principal: “We need to talk.”

(In his office, he tells me:)

Vice Principal: “We don’t come and go as we please. You’re fired for being absent without my permission.”

Me: “I’ve had enough of you. It’s true that ‘we’ don’t come and go as ‘we’ please, but I do, and if you have a problem with that you should see the principal.”

(And off he goes, straight to the principal. Ten minutes later, the principal calls me into his office to tell me that I’m not fired and that the vice principal has decided to leave the school, so I can delete his account. The principal’s secretary later tells me that the vice principal had given the principal an ultimatum:)

Vice-Principal: “Either the IT-guy is out or I’m out.”

Principal: “I accept your resignation. You have fifteen minutes to clear your desk, hand in the keys to my secretary, and leave.”

(It turned out that a lot of teachers had complained about his behaviour to the principal and that the principal also didn’t get along with this guy.)