(My husband and I have been married for a year now. Whenever our families get together for the holidays, the topic of children comes up—especially when WE are going to have them. During a Christmas party at my in law’s house, his father is telling me all the stories about my husband when he was a child. We are talking about it on the drive home.)

Me: “You were a troublesome child.”

Husband: “What? I was always a good child!”

Me: “That’s not what your dad says. Going down a double black diamond when you’re only seven, calling your dad an f’ing idiot to your mother when you’re just three!”

Husband: “Yeah, he likes those stories.”

Me: “See. That’s why we can’t have kids. If they turn out like you, it’d be bad.”

Husband: “Whoa! Good child! I was the good child!”

Me: “Well, I wasn’t! I was a manipulative instigator.” *pause* “So, that’s it, then. We can’t have kids because if we do, they’ll end up being a combination between the two of us: troublesome, manipulative, evil demon children. I don’t know if I feel right about bringing that evil into this world.”

Husband: “That’s going to be my excuse from now on. I can’t place that evil upon others.”

Me: “We would be the ones having to deal with that evil! I can’t deal with the evil!” *pauses, nods sagely* “It’s decided, then. We can’t have kids. They will be demons.”

(It is late evening on Christmas Eve. My husband and I are driving back from his parents’ house, after spending the evening with his family, including his sister and her husband.)

Husband: “It’s midnight. Merry Christmas, baby.”

Me: “Merry Christmas!”

Husband: “Since it’s now technically Christmas Day, I suppose you can open your present. Check the glove compartment.”

(I open it to find a neatly wrapped, box-shaped present.)

Me: “Aw baby!”

Husband: *devilish smile* “Just to warn you, Santa has decided you were naughty this year.”

(I laugh, and open the present expecting to find an ‘adult’ toy. Instead, it is a DVD box set of a TV show.)

Me: “I guess I was the wrong kind of naughty, huh?”

Husband: “Aw, crap!”

(He immediately does a U-turn and starts speeding back towards his parents’ house. It dawns on me what has just happened, and I start laughing hysterically.)

Husband: “Forgive the speeding, but I really don’t want my sister opening my ‘gift’ to her of edible panties.”

(He suddenly gets a phone call from his sister, which he answers on loud-speaker since he is driving.)

Sister-in-law: “First of all, I don’t think I can look at you guys in the eye again until new years. Secondly, my husband says thank you for dessert.”

(My boyfriend has just proposed, and he is driving us home. We have given up a lot of things for each other, including moving to a different hemisphere and being partially disowned. We’re also huge math geeks. I have been running my fingers over the ring over and over. I notice that there is something engraved on the inside of the ring: 3.1415926535897.)

Me: “Babe, why does this ring have Pi engraved on it?”

Fiancé: “I was waiting for you to ask. I asked for that because our love is like Pi – spontaneous, somewhat irrational, and never-ending.”

(My eyes water a little.)

Me: “That is the sweetest, most nerdy thing anyone’s ever done.)

(My then-boyfriend is walking me to my car one night after work.)

Me: “Thank you for walking me. I saw a group of people hanging out around here earlier. It was kind of shady.”

Boyfriend: “Of course! I wouldn’t let anything happen to you!”

(We walk in front of a house with very large bushes along the sides. Just as we get near a bush, a small dark mass bolts out from the bush directly towards me.)

Me: “HISS!” *I jump and genuinely cat-hiss*

(Turns out, it was actually a cat. It got highly offended and ran off without another thought. I then turn to look at my boyfriend.)

Boyfriend: *eyes huge* “Did you just?…”

Me: *looking down* “Shut-up… never happened.”

(I’ve been seeing this guy for a few months, and while we have spent a lot of time together, we haven’t said ‘I love you’ yet. He is opening my car door for me; we are laughing and joking as I sit in the car.)

Him: *out of nowhere* “I love you.”

(Both of our eyes get as big as saucers. Before I even have a chance to react, he puts his hand on the side of my head, pushing me the rest of the way in the car.)

Him: “Go away. I said nothing.”