(I’m running errands for my pregnant wife. While walking to a nearby store, I see two teenagers harassing a child that is only four or five years old. I shoo them away from the boy, and he introduces himself.)

Me: “So, where’s your mom at?”

Boy: “She’s in the store. Do you have kids?”

Me: “Not yet. We’re expecting a baby girl soon, though.”

Boy: “Well, she’s going to turn out nice, like you! So, I’m going to marry her someday!”

(I laugh, and play along while I bring him to the service desk, and wait until his mom picks him up. Six years later, my daughter comes home from school and introduces us to a friend that defended her against a bully on the playground. I didn’t recognize him, but he certainly knew who I was!)

(I am a lesbian and married. My little sister is introducing my wife around her office building. I have neglected to come along because I have an anxiety disorder. My wife is short, very skinny, and all around tiny.)

My Sister: “…and this is my big sister’s wife.”

Coworker: *looks horrified and says nothing*

My Sister: “They are married.”

Coworker: *still horrified, saying nothing*

My Sister: “They are gay…”

Coworker: *still horrified*

My Sister: “They. Are. Lesbians.”

(My sister is very angry. My wife however, is perfectly calm.)

My Wife: “I’m 26.”

Coworker: “Oh, thank God! Don’t scare me like that!”

(She thought my wife was 14 or 15, and was utterly horrified about that, and not about anything else. I almost peed myself when I heard, but it’s nice to know my little sister has my back.)

(We’ve just bought a new TV. My boyfriend is taking the remote control out of the packaging. He pauses to laugh, and shows me the sticker it has, saying ‘PASSED’.)

Boyfriend: “You passed! Oh, well done, remote! We are so proud!”

Me: “We will throw you a party to celebrate! Well done, you!”

(My boyfriend opens the back of the remote, to see that is takes AAA batteries, not AA.)

Boyfriend: “Aw! Remote! You take the small batteries!”

Me: “You b******!”

Boyfriend: “We hate you, remote!”

Me: “Pass or not; you’re still a failure in our eyes!”

Boyfriend: “You have brought shame upon this house!”

Me: “…we’re going to be terrible parents.”

Boyfriend: “Only if our children take AAA batteries.”

(My husband and I can’t decide whether to try for a second child this month, and we end up agreeing to use ‘rock, paper, scissors’ as the deciding factor. We’re both on the fence about it.)

Husband: “Okay. If I win, it’s a no. If you win, we’ll go for it.”

Me: “Sounds good to me! We’ll go one, two, three, then shoot.”

(The game ensues.)

Husband: “Rock!”

Me: “Spock! Spock vaporizes rock! I win!”

Husband: “Live long and procreate?”

(A recent college graduate has moved to a new town for a job opportunity. One of his coworkers asks him to join the rest of his work crew for an end-of-summer party. He decides to visit, and while he is there, he notices a woman a few years his senior mowing the lawn next door.)

Man: “Seems like her husband is a lucky guy! Where I come from, you rarely see women mowing the lawn.”

Coworker: “Actually, she lives on her own. I think she dated once or twice, but not successfully.”

Man: “Oh, really?”

Coworker: “Yeah. It’s a shame, because she’s a nice person. Not many men are willing to look for an older woman, especially with her interests.”

Man: “Like what?”

(The woman finishes mowing the lawn, and starts to put her equipment in the shed. Meanwhile, the radio in the background announces a home run for the popular baseball team in the area.)

Woman: “Yahoo! We’re in the lead!”

(She grabs a nearby scorecard on the patio to update the progress. The man comes over to her fence.)

Man: “You keep baseball scorecards?”

Woman: “I’ve been doing it since my father taught me; why stop now?”

Man: “No reason! I was, um, just wondering how you mark the card, is all…”

(It turns out that the two of them had many things in common. Over 30 years later, my parents still happily watch baseball, and keep scorecards together. However, someone other than my mother mows the lawn!)