(My older brother is in the military, and is engaged to his childhood sweetheart. She’s a full-time nursing student and is struggling to juggle work, family, and schooling. Due to his service complications, he is unable to provide her any financial support until they’re officially married. They’ve decided to be married by a JOP (Justice Of The Peace) over the weekend, instead of a vintage ceremony after she graduates. Our families have driven over 10 hours to meet them. My brother has been on the phone for over five hours trying to find someone to marry them. All the JOP’s in the next five towns were off the whole weekend, and no preacher felt comfortable marrying them without at least six months of marriage counseling.)

Brother: “Dad! I’ve found someone willing! They’re in [town another five hours away], and we need to be there by 2pm tomorrow!”

Dad: “Are you serious? Five hours! You can’t make that.”

(My brother and his fiancée have to be back on his base by 5pm on Friday to put in the financial paper work. Otherwise, this was all for naught.)

Brother: “Yeah, sure we can! “

Me: “No, you can’t. The five hour drive back means you won’t make it by 5pm.”

Brother: “We’ll make it.”

(The next day, both families pack up and are halfway to the town, when my brother phones us.)

Brother: “Turn back! We told a secretary here out story, and she called in a personal favor! He’s the first JOP I asked! He’d said no, since he’s only part-time and will be working at his business today. He can marry us here at noon!”

Dad: “That’s great! Why didn’t he agree to do it before?”

Brother: “Well… he’s working at a funeral home today. They’re painting, so he’s in ripped clothes and he can’t leave. We have to perform the ceremony there. [Fiancée] doesn’t really like it, but we’re taking what we can get.”

(My brother and new sister-in-law were married in the chapel of a funeral home, with the other seven of us standing between empty caskets! We joke about the story they’ll tell their children, and how the ceremony was ‘really dead.’ Love persists!)

(I hate surprises, especially expensive ones. I get really worried I won’t like the present, and that it’ll be a massive waste of the giver’s money. I have just found out my boyfriend has spent $650 on me for our anniversary. I am panicking about it to my mum.)

Me: “He says it represents exactly how he feels about me, and what he wants to tell me.”

Mum: “Oh, do you think it’s going to be all cheesy?”

Me: “I don’t know! But $650? I can’t think of anything I’d spend that much money on! Well, I can, but I don’t think they represent how he feels about me.”

Mum: “Why? What would you spend that much money on?”

Me: “A taxidermy fox.”

Mum: “Yeah… let’s hope that’s not how he feels about you.”

Me: “Ooh, there’s something else I’d spend that much money on.”

Mum: “What?”

Me: “Tickets to see Philip Quast.”

(Philip Quast is an actor/singer I have a massive crush on. My mum laughs and impersonates my boyfriend.)

Mum: “I feel for you, the way you feel for Philip Quast.”

(The gift ends up being a really nice necklace. The funny thing is that he wrote a Philip Quast innuendo in my card, and was insulted when I didn’t get the reference.)

(My boyfriend and I are trying to park at a mall. My boyfriend has a large truck, so finding spots is difficult. We see an open spot up front reserved for ‘Expectant Mothers’.)

Boyfriend: “Babe, you look pregnant.”

(As he says this, he pulls into an ‘Expectant Mothers’ parking spot.)

Me: “Excuse me?”

(My wife has finally conceived a child after years of fertility treatment.)

Me: “I hope the child is more like you. My DNA is terrible.”

Wife: “Your DNA is fine.”

Me: “My DNA isn’t even ATCG. It’s UUDDLRLRBA.”

Wife: “I wish we had a cheat code for this process.”

Me: “But that would give us thirty!”

Wife: “Okay, maybe that’s too many lives.”

(My mother and I have a very strained relationship. My boyfriend especially hates the way she blackmails me. I am aware that I have some similar traits, and while I’m not as crazy as she is now, I sometimes worry that as I get older, I’ll get worse.)

Me: *texting my boyfriend* “Promise me something?”

Boyfriend: “What?”

Me: “Promise me you’ll never let me turn into my mom.”

Boyfriend: “Oh, sweetie. That’s why I have a shotgun.”

Me: *laughing, genuinely relieved* “Thank you so, so much!”

Related:
The Couple That Slays Together, Stays Together, Part 12