Coworker: “Out of curiosity, what is the really loud bell in the back room?”

Me: “You mean the doorbell?”

Coworker: “Doorbell? Doorbell! [Coworker #2] is trapped outside!”

(I work in a mid-range jewelry and handbag store. We have these giant faux fur pom poms that are meant to hang on your handbag as charms, but they also have a portable charger built in, which actually is pretty cool. A customer brings one of these to the register.)

Customer: “What is this?”

Me: “Well, it’s a purse charm that can charge your phone.”

Customer: “Oh, that’s cool. How does it work?”

Me: “Like any other portable charger, you have to plug it in and charge it before you leave, and then when you’re out, you can just plug your phone in whenever it’s low.”

Customer: “Oh. I don’t want it if I have to charge it, too.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll take it back then. Have a good day.”

(This lady thought that we were selling unlimited electricity for $12. Sure.)

(I’m at a family gathering at my sister’s house. I see that one of my other sisters is wearing a cute shirt, and decide to compliment her on it.)

Me: “Hey, [Sister #1], that’s a really cute shirt. I should go shopping with you, so you can help me find cute clothes.”

Sister #1: “Actually, I don’t know where it came from. Mom just brought it home one day.”

Me: “Oh, okay.”

(A little later in the evening, I start talking with my two-year-old niece.)

Me: “[Niece], that’s a really cute shirt. I should have you take me shopping!”

Sister #2: “[My Name], you bought that shirt for her.”

When my little sister was around ten years old, she had a hard time judging how long to put things in the microwave, so she would press “9999, start” and check it every so often. One day I came home from school to find the kitchen filled with smoke, a burrito-shaped piece of charcoal in the microwave, and my mother chastising my crying sister.

Fast forward to my sister’s wedding: I was giving my speech and I brought up the story to tease her a little bit. Halfway through my story, my sister’s new hubby started crying as he was laughing so hard, not because my story was so funny, but because he now understood her weird microwave tic.

He shared with the whole reception that she only uses the +30 second button, checking the food in between each… even if it needs five minutes in the microwave.

Apparently, she is afraid she will charcoal-ify everything.

It was ten pm, my wife and kid were asleep, and I had the grave shift starting in two hours, so I was killing time before work.

I was watching a horror TV show where a demon-baby telekinetically slams her letter blocks into the wall to spell out, “Feed me.”

It was an intense moment, and my office was pitch black except for the light from my computer screen. I glanced to my side and found my three-year-old daughter standing there, who simply said, “I’m hungry.”

My scream woke up our next door neighbor, who called to make sure everything was all right.