I’ve made the decision to cut my hair short. I’m an adult female and have always had waist-length hair, so going down to pixie-length is a big change for me. I live with my partner, but because of my unsociable shift pattern at the time, I spend the day of the big chop at my parents’ house. My mum and I have the following conversation at least three times.

Mum: “What does [Partner] think about you cutting your hair so short?”

Me: “He said he doesn’t care because it’s not his hair. He’s still supportive because he knows it’s what I want. And even if he did care, it wouldn’t change my decision because I’m my own person and not his property.”

The new haircut looks even better than expected, and I’m so taken with my new style that I keep it. Every time I visit my parents, my mum asks when I’m planning to grow my hair out again.

Shortly before the world goes insane and everything gets locked down, I get several additional piercings in each ear, including a couple of cartilage piercings. The next time I see my mum, she expresses her disapproval but doesn’t push the point. Until I leave the room. 

On my way back into the room, I overhear the following.

Mum: “I really don’t like it. What do you think? Did she tell you she was doing it?”

Partner: “Of course, she did. I think it looks great. And I know she’s happy with it, which is important.”

Mum: “Don’t you think it looks unprofessional, though? Can’t you tell her to get rid of it?”

Partner: “Not really. And it’s her decision.”

Since being in lockdown, my partner and I have been cutting each others’ hair with clippers. When mum saw it over video call, she threw a fit. Telling her [Partner] had done it shut her right up. 

My parents have always been traditional, but I’ll never understand why my mum put more emphasis on my partner’s opinion of my style than my own!

My boarding school has been reopened cautiously, but we’re faced with a whole load of safety precautions. The one that grates the most is that we have to take and submit our temperature twice a day, every day — once in the morning, once in the afternoon.

My houseparent gets tired of us forgetting to submit our temperature, so the person who forgets the most temperature checks has to send twice-daily reminders to the dorm WhatsApp group for a week.

I get stuck as the first person. After a few days, I get bored and decide to have some fun.

Me: “Roses are Red,

Violets are Blue,

I’ve submitted my Temperature,

And so should You.”

Houseparent: “As a literature teacher, that is painful to read. If you’re going to do poetry, please at least do a proper job.”

Me: “Challenge accepted.”

The very next day”

Me: “Thermometers between lips,

Wait ‘til beeping ends,

See what it predicts,

And temperature, send.”

Dormmate #1: “Are you really going to say every reminder in rhyme?”

Me: “Now I will.”

This lasts for the rest of my week, my poetry getting more and more elaborate, until it reaches a fourteen-line Shakespearean sonnet.

Me: “It’s the end of the week,

Sunday is nearly gone,

I know we’re all weak,

But turn your thermometers on.

“Place them between your lips,

And wait for the beeping to end,

See what it predicts,

And temperature, send.

“Alas, my time as monitor is out,

My heir’s task is great importance,

You will not be a layabout lout,

Challenge: Beat my performance!

“The victor will gain great glory,

The loser will find his end gory.”

The next victim on reminder duty replies:

Dormmate #2: “Challenge accepted.”

And thus began an informal competition between those of us on reminder duty, with progressively more elaborate and absurd reminders. My heir’s reminders were all memes. His heir rapped all of his. That person’s heir wrote the reminders as lyrics of a song. The next person sang the aforementioned song in a homemade music video. His successor made a jazzy remix of it. I wonder what will be next!

And yes, temperature submissions have significantly improved since we turned the reminders into a game.

This story is part of our Best Of March 2021 roundup!

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A lady comes in with her granddaughter, who looks to be around four or five years old. She wants a library card for the child. I explain that she will need to sign as a guarantor for the child and that I will need to see some ID with her full name and address. The little girl, dressed in dungarees, pipes up: 

Little Girl: “But Granny, I’m not wearing a dress!”

I’m a hostess at a restaurant. A customer walks in.

Customer: “Do you serve sushi?”

Me: “No, sir, this is a French restaurant.”

Customer: “Okay. Can I order chicken tikka masala to go?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, we don’t have that, either. This is a French restaurant.”

Customer: “Oh, okay. I’ll take a paella, then.”

Me: “This is a Spanish dish. We only serve French cuisine. Take a look at our menu.”

I point toward the menu board, but the customer starts walking out with an angry face.

Customer: “This is the worst customer service ever!”

I do a lot of work around the house — repairs and DIY. I have been thinking about building some fitted wardrobes, so when my wife keeps pushing me for ideas for my upcoming birthday, a new battery drill would be perfect.

I’ve only ever had cheap unbranded tools before, so I pick out a really affordable brand-name drill and even send her a picture of the one I specifically want.

A few weeks later, I open a very heavy box to find… an unbranded version.

Wife: “They didn’t have the one you wanted, so I got this one. Look, it comes with all these tools.”

It comes with some cheap drill bits.

Me: “Thank you. I have to admit, I was hoping for the other one.”

Wife: “They’re the same, aren’t they?”

Me: “Not really, no. I  was really looking for one with a bit more power. Plus, I think I mentioned that I was hoping to buy more [Brand] products and just have the one battery.”

Wife: “I think you’re just being picky.”

Me: “I’m not trying to be ungrateful, but this just won’t do the job.”

Wife: *In a huff* “Well, I guess I can return it.”

I felt bad, but we have always said that we would rather get each other something we actually wanted, and I have done the same for her in the past.

After several months of her “forgetting” or “not having time” to return the drill, she let me know she had lost the receipt and couldn’t return it.

I used the new drill for the first time, and I think it’s worse than my old one. It struggles to drill any large hole and the charge time is rubbish. 

I’m still the bad guy if I use my old drill. I think I will buy my own tools from now on.