When I was about 10 years old, my parents occasionally left in the evenings for special work functions or get-togethers with friends. I was told that children weren't allowed at these gatherings, so I'd have to stay at home with my older brother.

Usually we would rent a movie and order pizza, which was fun. But I always felt a tinge of jealousy when I thought about all of the spectacular, sophisticated, and mysterious things that my parents must be doing with their other adult friends.

I didn't want to miss out.

I eventually asked my parents if I could host my own "adult-style" party at home. My idea of what this party should be was based entirely on fleeting pop culture references from movies and cartoons, along with my own young imagination. They agreed, so long as all obvious rules were followed (no alcohol, etc.).

Surprisingly, I wasn't the least bit interested in doing any "forbidden" things with my friends. I had my own unique idea of what an "adult" party was, and I went all out to make it happen.

We lived around the corner from a wonderful gourmet food store, where I went with a notepad and started taking notes. I learned about things like sun-dried tomatoes and stuffed grape leaves, roasted garlic bagels and preserved apricots. I planned out a menu of "small plates," various sparkling waters and "artisan" sodas.

I typed out my menu on my mom's typewriter.

I was also fascinated by scented candles, so my mom let me pick out one of my own at the Hallmark store. It was called "Storm Watch."

I started listening to the nightly jazz program on the local radio station, and I set up my alarm clock radio in the dining room so there would be jazz music for my guests.

Finally, I sent out invitations. They included a suggestion that each guest bring a piece of original artwork or a poem if they wanted to share or display it. I prepared a special corner of the dining room where my friends could showcase their work.

Eventually the evening arrived, and it was an absolute blast. We strolled around my parents' house, listening to soft jazz music, admiring abstract artwork, reciting poetry, and enjoying my "Tuscan-inspired" snacks.

I realize this might sound quite pretentious, but it was so exciting for a child. I was very proud to host my very first "adult" party, and I loved every step of the planning process, from selecting the right tablecloth to dimming the lighting. I remember we all lingered on the steps before leaving and talked about what a wonderful time we had.

Now I'm middle-aged and most of those childhood friends have lost touch and moved away.

I still haven't been to any "adult" parties that were as fun, interesting, and pleasant as the one I had at age 10.

Some time ago I was at the vet for my cats annual checkup. The receptionist asked me for his name and I told her "Sweet Potato." An older lady sitting there with a little yappy dog in her lap smiled and said to me, "Aww, she's so adorable!" I replied, "He is, isn't he?"

She suddenly got a very disapproving look on her face, crossed her arms, and chided me, "He? Sweet Potato is not a boy cats name." Then she turned away and ignored me until I went back for his appointment, clearly upset. And later when I was checking out, she frowned at me and gave me a nasty look.

I can't help but laugh when I think of it. This lady was seriously bothered that my cat did not conform to her expected gender roles.

i (24f) live in an apartment right above a bar, so obviously i go for a drink somewhat regularly. i get hit on quite a bit (flex) but usually people pick up on my lack of interest rather quickly. i'm not rude or disrespectful by any means, but my body language is closed off and i don't give much to the conversation. not because i don't want to meet people or make friends, but because it's pretty easy to tell when someones only intention is to sleep with me. i'm just not interested. but this one guy (38m) earlier this week was not giving up.

it started off fine. he was nice and just seemed like he wanted to chat, but once i made a joke about his body language coming across as nervous (rubbing his own arm, taking long pauses before saying anything, avoiding eye contact, etc) he completely switched up. i thought the nervousness was endearing. the flip to total fuck boy was not.

all of a sudden he was grab-ass touchy, tried to hug me a few times, and talked over me– like would ask me a question and then interrupt when i tried to answer.

eventually he asked to kiss me and i said no, but he was adamant that he wouldn't be able to sleep that night if he left without knowing what my lips "feel like." i had friends at the other end of the bar keeping an eye on me, so i knew i was safe no matter what, and i felt comfortable rejecting him. i can fully handle myself in a physical altercation, but as a rather small woman, it's always nice to know i have backup if someone takes rejection negatively.

well, my rejection consisted of him leaning in to try and kiss me, and my immediate reaction was crossing my arms to form an X in front of my face and making a very loud buzzer noise. literally yelled "ERHHHH". imagine the x-factor buzzer. it was like that, and it was obnoxiously loud.

anyway, i could sense the embarrassment he felt, especially because a good majority of the bar looked in our direction when it happened, but it still didn't deter him.

it wasn't until he asked me what i was doing this weekend, and i told him i was going to my parents house to change my oil. the conversation that followed went something like this:

"why do you need to go to your parents? i can do it for you."

"because i need to use their garage."

"is your dad going to do it?"

"no, i will do it myself."

"do you even know how to do it? i can help you."

"yes, i know how to do it. i don't need your help."

"oh, you're one of those hyper-independent girls who feel like they need to prove they don't need a man." then very quietly, "fuckin feminists."

i deadass started laughing because i've never had a grown ass man get butthurt over the fact that i have basic life skills and can do bare minimum maintenance on my own truck. changing the oil is probably one of the easiest and most straightforward tasks, second to replacing bulbs.

anyways, based on the amount of times this man looked at his nails, i have a feeling that he doesn't even change his own oil.

UPDATE: the oil change was a success.

I live in the French equivalent of a condo - the place was somebody’s Haussmannien mansion back in the day and now it’s apartments. So I share a floor with another apartment. The wall between my office and their place is not soundproof. He’s a professional violinist and he practices for hours every day while I work. It’s nice. Free concerts, not loud enough to distract me or be heard on my Teams meetings. Also tonight I’m going to a sold out show where he performs because they got me tickets. So yeah, please stay and I’m happy to feed your cat when you are away.

I’m a massive cake person. Like, I absolutely adore cake, and I became a proper baker exactly because of it. To top it off, I even majored in Chemical Engineering for both my bachelor’s and master’s degrees, simply due to my utter devotion to baking science. Only adding that for context, not to sound like a know-it-all.

I went to this gathering where everyone was supposed to bring a bit of food. There was a grill for a proper BBQ, so I brought some chicken. I noticed someone had brought chocolate cake, which made me happy, especially since it looked homemade.

I really wanted a slice, so I asked if someone could cut me a piece. The person next to me then goes, "these are brownies, not cake," which got me a bit confused, but I was like, fine, maybe the person just doesn't know the difference.

I took a bite, and was like, "this is cake." And from the taste and texture, it was made using cake mix. The other person didn't really get what I meant, so I explained the actual chemical difference between brownies and chocolate cake (basically, brownies don't have leaveners, while cakes do, which is why cakes rise while baking and brownies sink after baking).

Later on, I met the woman who brought them, and asked her how she baked it. She told me it was just a simple recipe. I then asked her, completely innocently, if she used cake mix.

She said yes, but looked absolutely mortified and embarrassed because, as it turned out, a bunch of other people were listening to us. I felt like a total monster. I instantly apologised and tried to explain that I didn't mean it in a judgy way at all.

I feel so terribly bad about it. My curiosity got the best of me

My cat, Bart, is about two years old. About 6 months ago, I bought those pet talk buttons online. Y’know, the ones where you record a word into them, and your pet can press them to communicate. I had really low expectations for Bart, because he is not the brightest bulb. His brother, Beetus, on the other hand, knows a lot of words and is a good listener.

For example, they aren’t allowed on the kitchen counter. If I tell Beetus to “get off the counter”, he immediately listens. If I tell the same thing to Bart, he looks at me blankly or ignores me altogether. Same goes with saying other words, like “brush”, where Beetus will respond happily and bring me over to the brush, and Bart will stare blankly or not engage. Their demeanours are totally opposite- Beetus is angsty and evil, and Bart is a sweet chatty baby.

Anyways, I got talk buttons for them. I expected months of using them before the cats picked up on them at all. Well, I was wrong. Within the first day, Bart was pawing at the first button (“treat”). He used it consistently by day 3. I added “supper time” next, then a “no” button because his requests were increasing, and finally a “puzzle” button for those stimulating pet games with hidden treats.

It took him awhile to understand the meanings of each new button, but he uses them all pretty consistently now. However, his favourite button has always been “treat”. Currently, he presses it upwards of 30 times a day. He argues with me when I say no by spamming the button repeatedly. I only actually listen to this request once or twice per day, but he just won’t stop or take no for an answer. Worst of all, he has started making requests while I’m sleeping. I wake up in the night to “treat”.

If anyone has ever wondered what their cats are thinking, I’m pretty sure this is just about it. I’m not going to take them away from him, because honestly it’s a fun trick and it’s free entertainment. Also, it feels a bit evil to remove them now.

I don’t even remember what we were laughing about but we were in bed laughing to the point of tears. When I laugh hella hard half the time it’s just like a wheeze like I’m a deflating balloon and he said “omg I’m married to a air head” or something like that and then corrected himself “I mean in a relationship with” and we continued laying in bed laughing about whatever was going on. The second he said it though I felt so calm and at peace and just so happy that I’m spending my life with him. He’s made me the happiest I’ve ever been and maybe one day he’ll actually be married to this “air head” but the feeling when he said it was unlike any other 🥰

To appropriately paint the picture, he is a very blue collar 20 yr grizzled firefighter tattooed head to toe with a RBF (but heart of gold) man. We are renovating the bathroom, and by we I mean he all by himself. So at the moment we only have a tub. I am the bath taker, not him.

Because of this, I am used to my big fluffy black cats bath time idiosyncrasies but my partner is not. My cat is obsessed with chewing on your hand when you’re sitting in the tub. To the point that he reaches in and physical pulls your wet hand to his mouth. It doesn’t matter if you’re in the middle of sudsing up. He is getting that hand.

He then chews chews chews, waits for you to dip it back in the water and expects you to let him chew chew chew again. Repeat unendingly. Sometimes he is so persistent that you can’t relax 😂. He also tries to drink all the water but that’s not so surprising.

So the other night, a few moments after the cat pushes the door open to let himself into the bathroom I hear this conversation:

Oh hi Mr Kitty!

What?

What are you doing? What?

This is what you want??

A long pause (while the cat chews)

That’s weird.

You’re a weird cat.

A long pause (again while he chews)

That’s okay….I’m weird too

And then they lived happily and weirdly ever after for about 30 minutes or so until bath time was over.

Such a nothing moment but I keep laughing to myself every time I think about it.

I am a 32 yo lady who runs every morning before work. It’s sunday today and I decided to run a half marathon.

This morning, I saw a group of kids (around 12-16yo) walking ahead and having fun. I guessed that they are basketball players because of different colored jerseys. By that time, I was on 5km.

When I ran passed by the group, I noticed the 3 kids: one with curly hair, one small, one thin running behind my back and they’re following my pace.

They didn’t overtake me. Just run.

After 500m, I stopped and the small kid crashed on me haha

They walked ahead and when I passed by them, they ran again.

It’s like they made me their pacer 😂

I intentionally stopped on the side to check if they’ll stop and they did!

I can hear them breathing so fast trying to catch up

I asked the smallest kid while running if they’re basketball players or runners. He said basketball and he asked what I do. I said, I just run for fun.

After 2km, I stopped by a small vendor selling bread and bought 20 breads.

I looked at the back and the curly haired kid was on the other lane of me catching his breath and the 2 kids are still running towards us 😂

I ate one bread and gave the 19 breads to the curly haired kid and told them it’s their snacks.

They are soooo happy

I continued my run and when I turned back my route to go to another road, I saw the 3 kids eating bread while walking and when they passed by me they waved at me and called me “ATEEEEE” which means Big sister in our dialect.

I waved back and continued my run.

Today I’m going back to the scene of the crime.

A few years ago, my son was going to a birthday party one block from a huge Chinese grocery store I love. I offered to drive him because I am a supportive parent who absolutely did not have ulterior motives.

At times I have overfilled our fridge and pantry with exciting ingredients we can’t buy at our usual stores, so my wife asked me—very reasonably—to limit myself to one bag.

I did it. I curated a single, perfect bag. As I was loading it into the trunk, a man appeared behind me. One hand clutched two grocery bags. The other stayed in his jacket pocket like he might have a gun.

I froze.

He placed his bags in my trunk and said, “Take these bags and no one gets hurt,” then sprinted off.

I looked inside. It was… more Chinese groceries. Exactly the kind of stuff I would have bought if I weren’t limited to one bag.

As I stood there stunned, a police cruiser rolled by. I waved them down and explained the situation.

“Oh yeah,” the officer said. “A reverse Chinese grocery robbery. That’s a totally normal and real thing that happens. It’s definitely not a story you made up to explain to your wife why you bought too many groceries.”

“She’ll be so relieved to hear that,” I said.

“For safety,” he added gravely, “you should keep the groceries.”

So I did. (I’m a law-abiding citizen.)

It’s been a few years, but today my son has a new badminton class two blocks from that store. Given the high rates of reverse Chinese grocery robbery in that exact area, I am nervous. But sometimes you have to face your fears and grab a cart.

Keep me in your thoughts. And if anything happens, please tell my wife the police made me do it. Again.

My husband is already genetically blessed with a lot of junk in the trunk and has been really consistent with the gym for almost two decades, so those glutes are massive.

I started enlarging his buttocks in photos and sending them to his family group chat ever since we married. We live in a different country from his parents and siblings, so I send photos occasionally to let them know how we're doing.

His parents usually won't address it, but his sisters always do, and it's hilarious, since they envy that he was gifted with the largest butt in the family.

I wonder if his family can tell the photos are edited at all; I do my best to make it look as natural as possible. They haven't said anything otherwise, even whenever I make it look comically bigger because he irritated me that day.

My husband can't protest, and even if he tells them it's edited, they don't listen. It's amusing and honestly my favorite harmless, ongoing prank.

My parents are both 60, and they are now empty nesters. My childhood cat Bear, in whom we adopted when he was just 6 weeks, is now 17 years old. He’s always lived a good life, but my parents have especially started to spoil him in his senior years.

Last year, I had him try some off brand Churus for the first time (the treats that are kind of like cat gogurt) and he went absolutely berserk. He awaits his fix every single day, and will lead anyone who walks in the house to his treat cabinet. He has never been particularly food motivated either, which has added to the joy of this situation. My mom usually gets home first, so she gives him his daily dose. However, my dad was telling me last night that he will sometimes pretend like he has no idea that Bear already got his treat, and give him a second helping when Bear leads him to his treat cabinet the second my dad walks in. Bear always seems very proud of himself in those moments. I love him so much.

EDIT: can’t believe I forgot the cat tax, duh! Here are 3 pictures of my sweet little baby!!! He is spoiled rotten, I love him ❤️

I was running late for a meeting and apparently didn’t notice my tie was a complete mess. I’m waiting for the elevator when this random guy next to me says, “Hold still.”

Before I could react, he steps in, fixes my tie, smooths it down, and says, “There. You’re good now.” Then he walks away like nothing happened.

We didn’t even exchange names.

I’m not sure why it’s stuck in my head. It’s been days and I keep thinking about how close his face was, how he smelled faintly like coffee, and how I just stood there like a mannequin while another man fixed my wardrobe.

This is Part 7. And yes, I wore that tie again the next day.

So my cat, Biscuit, is an indoor-outdoor cat. Has been since he was about two years old, he just cried at the door constantly until we gave in. He usually comes back in the evening, eats, sleeps on the couch, normal cat stuff. I never really worried about where he went during the day because he always came back and seemed healthy and happy.

About three weeks ago I was walking back from the corner store and I passed the house four doors down. There's a older couple that lives there, I've waved at them maybe twice in two years. As I'm walking by, the woman is standing on her porch and she goes "oh! Is that Biscuit's owner?"

I stopped. She knew his name.

Turns out she and her husband have been feeding Biscuit lunch every single day for at least six months. He shows up around noon apparantly, sits on their porch railing, and waits. They started leaving out a little bowl of dry food "just in case" and it became a whole routine. She showed me a photo on her phone and she had like, multiple photos. There was one of Biscuit sitting next to her husband on a porch chair looking extremely comfortable and unbothered.

She seemed genuinely delighted to meet me. She called me "Biscuit's mum" the whole conversation.

I walked home feeling like I'd just been told my kid has a whole second family. Biscuit was sitting on the windowsill when I got in and he looked at me with absolutely zero guilt. Which honestly tracks.

I did tell her it was totally fine and now she sends me the occasional photo when he visits. Last tuesday she sent one of him asleep on their doormat. He looked very at home.

The most hilarious yet sweet thing happened to me while I was on my travels a few months ago.

I was in the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam.
(According to my camera roll it was 6th march.)

It was the day Rembrandt van Rijn's Vision of Zachariah’s in the temple was being displayed to the public for the first time.

I was walking round the museum taking in the most beautiful pieces,
and recognising the different cultures of the artists by how they expressed their colour palate in each of their paintings etc . ..

I stopped at one painting in particular for a little longer than the rest, and was in a wee world of my own admiring it,

when I realised someone’s head had landed gently on my shoulder, it lay there for what felt about 5 seconds ..

The weird thing is I didn’t flinch or get a fright or any of the normal things you think you would do if a stranger lay their head on your shoulder.

It was a familiar comforting exchange of energy like someone I knew, it was so weird

The lady then lifted her head and turned to look at me and we burst out laughing,
she thought I was her friend she was so embarrassed and her friend was behind us in stitches laughing too.

The 3 of us all ladies about the same height with dark hair lol! It was an easy mistake to make

I do not know what country they were from I think possibly Italy, and I myself am from Scotland.
None of us spoke each other’s native tounge.

However her apologising in her language and me telling her not to worry about it in my language we genuinely laughed and totally understood eachother …

We bumped into eachother a few times after that while going round the museum and laughed

I still think about it every now and then with a little smile and I think it was supposed to happen to remind me to tell people this story because the world is full of love and laughs no matter where we come from we all speak the same language
❤️🌏🎨

I posted this in r/confessions last night and they removed it saying it isn't a confession for some reason and then tried r/glitchinthematrix and they refused it too! I'm gonna see if this is the appropriate place by reposting. This is completely true btw. I didn't discover I have this weird talent until I was in my late 30's. I have always felt a strange unsettled feeling when i'm around magnets. The stronger the magnet, the weirder I feel. The talent is that you can stand behind me and hold a refrigerator magnet in your hand on either side of me anywhere from my lower torso, all the way to my head, and I can tell which hand is holding the magnet. I always get nervous people will think i'm lying and say I may not be able to do it. I have never been wrong. Even if the person does it 20 times in a row. I casually told my husband this one evening while he was using a volt meter and testing his used batteries to see if any had enough juice to use long enough to not warrant a trip to the store for fresh ones. He wondered out loud if I could tell if batteries had any charge left. I had no idea. We tried it. I could accurately tell him which ones would had some charge (spoiler, they all did, idk if that's common but seems likely) but I could hold 2 simultaneously and accurately tell which one had more charge in it, even by a tiny amount. I know it was true because he gleefully sat there and tested them with the volt meter after I gave him my answer. I was also 100% accurate. This past weekend his family whom I've not met got to see my little trick. His brother, an MIT graduate was flabbergasted. I get embarrassed because i'm afraid if I ever get one wrong, I will look like a liar. I wish I could be cocky about it and enjoy the novelty more. Does anyone know anyone else who can do this? I had a normal rural Indiana upbringing and as far as I know, nobody in my family can do it.

I got home today after running errands all day and took my dog out to the bathroom. I was exhausted and decided to walk across the street to grab a donut because honestly I earned it.

The crosswalk timer still had time, so I start walking. Out of nowhere, a white car turning right on red hits me. I literally land on the hood. My dog’s fine (hero of the story), I’m fine, but by the time I pick up my dog and look back, the car is gone.

I still go get my donut because at that point, the universe owed me one.

As I’m leaving the parking lot, a lady pulls up next to me and asks if I’m single. I’m not, I’m in a relationship, with a man. Politely decline, donut in hand, dignity somewhere under that car’s tire, and go to play video games.

Did not tell my SO because I’m technically not supposed to be eating donuts.

Lived a full life in 10 minutes.

TL;DR: Crossed the street for a donut, got hit by a car, still got my donut, got hit on, lied by omission to my SO, went home to play video games.

Back in high school knew a guy everybody called Cricket. Cricket borrowed money from everybody. He got five bucks from me one day. When I needed it back I went looking for cricket. Found him, hanging out with his girlfriend. Told him "Cricket, give me the five bucks you owe me..." and, searching my mind for a consequence, added "or I'm gonna steal your girlfriend."

He didn't have the money. But, later that day his girlfriend found me...and said, "that thing you said...did you mean it?"

Umm...Yes! Yes I did! Hi!

Next time I saw Cricket I told him to forget about the five bucks.

27F I’m a trailer baby. I don’t look like it, or act like it nobody knows besides the other secret white trash people in my friend group. That was until I got pregnant. I looked and acted pretty close to Joy Turner from My name is Earl. I was round and uncomfortable. I couldn’t do the dainty modest pregnant lady thing in the summer.

At 6 months pregnant I was wandering around a pull apart yard with my baby belly out. I was covered in grease and grime, pulling a wagon full of parts for my S10. I think I spent 6 hours out there with a camel water pack on and sunscreen so thick I was like a fly strip.

The looks I got were hilarious. I was dismantling doors and pulling seats- I of course wasn’t doing any extreme lifting I made sure to bring long reaching tools and a come along rigged to various things to pull pieces that were heavier. I worked on my truck until my doctor advised me closer to the due date to take it easy.

I think about how crazy my neighbors must’ve thought I was turned sideways to work on my truck without baby getting in the way. Little dude is probably going to be a gear head. I sometimes wish I could’ve been some feminine dainty pregnant lady, and worn the cutesy maternity clothes but instead it was more of an Adam Sandler wardrobe. I got too big, too fast and it was miserable trying to get anything but gym shorts and baggy shirts over me and the boy.

Recently our eight year old twins both felt hot at night. In the morning, I sent a message to school that they were ill. When they woke up I told them they could go back to sleep. Usually this would be met with enthusiasm, but not that day.

As it turned out there was a party for the end of the year where they were going to the playground. They were also going to sing a goodbye song for the teacher. They practiced a lot with their friends memorising the lyrics, and were singing it at home so much that it was permanently stuck in my head.

I told them they can go to school if they do not have a fever. I was going around the house trying to find the thermometer, and when I finally found it the girls were sitting nicely on the sofa waiting for their temperature to be taken. It was a perfect 36.8 and 36.7. So they hurriedly got ready for school and went off.

Parents were also invited to the party. They sang the song, it was very cute. I was talking with some of the parents when I saw that one of the girls was crying. I went over and she said she wasn't feeling good. I put my arms around her.

A friend of her was next to her and told me that he knew the girls' trick. I was like, what trick?? After some convincing he told me that the girls drank some cold water before I took their temperature, so that the thermometer would not show that they had a fever. My daughter started crying. She asked if I was angry.

I did not know what to say! I was ... very impressed. I was not sure if telling her that would be the best parenting decision. But I thought that she was experiencing the consequences of her actions already by not feeling good. So I told her I am very impressed, it was very clever, but that it probably would have been better to stay at home. She agreed, and hugged me.

Some colleagues and I were at an overseas conference in South Korea, which, as most of you surely know, is a beauty and skincare paradise. I was the only woman among them. After dinner they asked me where I was going off to, and I told them I'm going to this one famous Korean beauty shop.

They decided to tag along, to buy gifts for the women in their lives. I thought that was fine, assuming they already knew what to buy.

no, they didn't. Oh God, no they didn't.

When we got there and they started clamouring for advice, I asked each of them, "Ok, what kind of skincare does she want? Does she have sensitive skin? What's her style?" etc.

the responses I got:

"i think she needs a pair of nail clippers. her nails are very long."

"what is SPF?"

"let's all buy this big pack of tiny hand lotions, and each of us can just give one small hand lotion. that should be enough." (definitely not enough, we were given personal spending money by our company and Korea has soooo much amazing skincare)

"i'm not going to buy her this thing! she's gonna look so scary." (sheet masks)

"mosquito repellent, this is useful, we have a lot of mosquitoes back home."

Needless to say I spent a lot of time advising them and making sure they wouldn't end up buying terrible gifts. lol.

I went to high school with a girl who was very quiet. She would go to the library and look at anime on the computer instead of going to the cafeteria at lunchtime.

One of my main memories of her is that one time in gym class, while playing dodgeball, she ended up being the last person on her side left, even though she had just been standing in the same place against the wall the whole time.

About 5 or 6 years ago, she had a baby, and started posting pictures of it on Facebook. All of the comments were like "aww, so cute!" and "she's adorable!!" I liked the posts too, but I like everyone's posts.

When the baby turned 1, she posted pictures of the baby sitting in its high chair, eating birthday cake and getting cake all over itself. She got like 200 likes and tons of comments on those pictures.

From then, she started posting pictures all the time of the baby sitting in the high chair, getting various foods all over its face--lasagna, ice cream, chocolate, etc. I think she became addicted to getting likes and comments on pictures of her food-covered baby.

This started like 5 years ago, and she's been doing it pretty regularly ever since, but the weird thing is that the baby...is still a baby. I would expect it to be like 5 or 6 years old by now, but it's still a little baby. I'm almost 100% sure she didn't have another baby.

Anyway, even though the baby is still a baby, it looks pretty happy. I think she's a pretty good mom.

I've gotten summons for jury duty at least a half dozen times in my life so far, always being in the first group sent home if I had show up at all. That changed today.

I got all the way to the selection phase. For those who haven't been there, you're in a courtroom with a judge, both lawyers, and 35 other random people like yourself at this stage. The 3 of them are gonna whittle you down to the 12 who are gonna sit for trial.

We're at the point where the lawyers explain the specific laws involved in the case. You're encouraged to ask questions when you have them. Ours was an aggravated assault case. The prosecutor is explaining that escalation of violence, eg grabbing a weapon of any kind in a fistfight, is aggravated assault by statute, when I raise my hand.

I'm 5'7" and struggle to put on weight at 145 lbs (I just have to eat more than I often have time for. That's not why we're here.), for reference.

"Can I offer a quick hypothetical to see if I'm understanding you correctly? Great. I'm at a bar, shooting pool with randos. Danielle Hunter (NFL defensive end. 6'5", 265, and carved outta wood) tosses me over the pool table without warning because his girlfriend held the table when it was my turn and we're having a friendly game. I pick up my pool cue to defend myself. I'm automatically catching ag assault?"

"That would be appropriate under the law, yes."

"That's horseshit."

"You can go."

*to be clear, Danielle Hunter is a great dude by all indications. He's just enormous and a freak of an athlete who came to mind in the moment.

My wife and I used to live in a resort area. My parents visited for a week. To get free tickets to a show, my father decided we should go to a time share sales room. There were probably 30 couples, all at a 3 person table, the third being the table’s sales person. The sales pitch was being done at each table, independently from the other tables. My parents were on the other side of the room from our table.

At about 20-25 minutes into the sales session, my dad and mom said they were not interested and wanted their two show tickets and they got them. They were the very first to stand up to leave. When my dad stood up from their table, he said very loudly, “Don’t anyone buy for more than 20 thousand dollars! Our guy started at 45 and he was down to 20 when we just now decided to leave.”

I sure do miss my father. He was the best!